Page 8 of Highland Lords of War & Thunder: The Prequel

“Give me the coin and you might keep your life.”

The merchant stared at the sword pointed at his belly and sighed.

It had been a profitable journey until two fools stepped from the trees and decided to relieve him of his earnings.

“I haven't got all day,” the taller of the two snapped. “The coins.”

The merchant reluctantly reached for the pouch beneath his cloak.

Heavy footfalls sounded along the forest road, catching the two thieves’ attention.

The merchant looked as well, waiting for the man to get closer, hoping he knew him and he could help him avoid being robbed, possibly killed.

A lone warrior approached at an easy pace, seemingly unconcerned by the sight of two armed men blocking the road.

A smile broke out on the merchant's face. Surely, the gods were favoring him today.

“Torden! A fortunate meeting,” the merchant called out.

Torden continued toward them.

He was taller than the average man and powerfully built, his broad shoulders made more imposing by the massive claymore strapped across his back. Dark hair fell past his broad shoulders, and strong features gave him a face worth a second glance, though there was nothing welcoming in his expression as his gaze moved from the merchant to the two men.

The shorter thief looked at his companion. “You know him?”

“Does it matter?” The taller man's interest shifted immediately to Torden. “There’s two of us and one of him.”

The merchant laughed.

Both thieves looked at him.

“You find something amusing?” the taller one demanded.

“Nay.” The merchant tucked his coin pouch safely back beneath his cloak and waited for the amusement to begin.

The man turned toward the warrior and demanded, “Your coins.”

Torden remained where he was.

“I said your coins,” the thief snarled as if it would make a difference.

It didn’t. Torden still didn’t move.

The merchant chuckled.

The thief swung around. “What's so damned funny?”

“You'll find out.”

The man's sword shifted back toward the warrior. “Hand over your coins or I’ll take them off your dead body.”

Torden’s eyes settled on the man with the mild annoyance one might give a fly that refused to be swatted away.

The thief held out his hand. “Your coins. Now.”

Torden ignored his demand.

The thief stepped closer. “Are you deaf?”