To Novek, the bandit leader's approach felt like it started in media res. He was either yelling performatively to demonstrate strength to his people or truly thought Novek and Ellie — or whoever he imagined was in the cart — could hear him.

  He was already mid-rant as he reached a distance where Novek could make anything out.

  “… think you're walking out of here, you have another thing coming. So just put your weapons down and take what you've got coming, or you won't be walking ever again.”

  Novek declined to answer; the time for talking wasn't quite yet. The sociopaths who had trained him might have been working at the behest of evil men, but that didn't mean they were stupid, and one of their rules that every battlefield was ultimately a negotiation. Battles where one side was entirely obliterated were essentially myth; not a pitched battle, not a siege, even a small skirmish was an exercise in determining at what point a losing force broke and ran or surrendered.

  What this meant was that ultimately you weren't trying to kill the entire enemy force. You were trying to convince them that they weren't willing to pay the price for what they wanted. Diplomats used words, their turn at dissuasion usually happened well before the fight; but mercenaries had to be more tactical in their negotiation strategy.

  The bandits, now down to about a dozen Humans, were fanning out around the disabled coach; crossbows and spears at the ready. Novek decided that this would not do. He needed to retain the benefit of hard cover as long as he could, which meant he needed the bandits to stay grouped up. By himself, he'd likely have cut and run by now. They might have horses, but going to ground for him didn't mean being locked in position. Humans could only crawl slowly, once prone. Novek might not have the full flexibility of his previous quadrupedal form, but he could remain hidden and mobile in the tall grass. That thought he kept that in the back of his mind; for now, he'd literally aim for force reduction.

  He reloaded the bolt box for his crossbow; rapid fire and mobility were needed here, over draw strength for powerful shots. At this range, with their quality of armor, any hit would take a target out of the fight.

  His mentors at the time had a number of lessons that could apply at this point, but his favorite of these maxims was, ‘Don't be afraid to be the first to resort to violence.’

  Novek kept his crossbow low, so that it wouldn't be seen before he was ready to fire, came around the side of the coach, and took the closest spearman in the calf with a bolt. Bah, he'd been aiming center mass; it was hard to aim precisely so quickly — at least he hadn't wasted his opening shot. They'd not let him get another without retaliation.

  The spearman had fallen out of sight in the grass, but had started screaming and didn't stop. Good, that would both distract and affect morale. Hopefully he had friends in the group that would try to help him, the fewer trying to fight, the better.

  The leader promptly stopped whatever ranting he'd been on about — Novek hadn't been listening — and shouted to his group, “Keep your distance. Crossbows only!” The shot had it's intended effect, however, and the group of thugs all stayed back, grouped together — they ceased trying to pin the coach in a crossfire.

  Novek looked to the side where Ellie was behind the coach. She was breathing heavily, but staying in cover. That was good, at least. Novek didn't think the coach gun was going to be useful unless this turned into a melee.

  Now it was time to negotiate in earnest.

  Novek put as much bass into his voice as he could manage and shouted from behind the coach, “What is it you're after? There are easier marks out there, you should take your remaining people and go after them.”

  “Oh, now he wants to negotiate. One more trick like that last shot, and we'll set fire to this whole field. Now you listen to me, kitten, and you too, driver. I'm going to tell you how this is going to go. First off, you're going to put your weapons down. We're done playing with you, the next thing that happens that I don't like, and we'll just take what we want from your corpses. You, driver. The money from the sale. That's ours now. You give us that, we'll let you live. If I so much as see that gun of yours, the horses die.”

  Oh, Novek knew this type. This type of guy loved listening to themselves talk. He let him — time was Novek's ally. If someone saw this and alerted the local law, they'd likely run rather than fight. If night came, they'd have to flee or die. And however unlikely it might be, if Ceress showed up with some of her forces, all bets were off.

  The rant continued, Novek had missed some of it, but he didn't think it was important, anyway. These were just words; the bandits already thought anything they had was already theirs, so there was no offering them anything. If they surrendered, none of them were walking out of here.

  “… of course, we're going to be looking out for stories of a dark, green-eyed Ber. Or maybe a big sale of Ber meat, to see if maybe someone else found the rest of them and somehow didn't manage to get themselves killed. Even if it's not what we're looking for, where there's a hastily packed coach full, there's probably more that couldn't be hauled right away, right? Opportunity doesn't knock loud, you've got to listen close.”

  Oh, now that was interesting. They were looking for the kit — or at least another of the same Ber. Was this what Lennert was doing in town? He'd said ‘rest of them’; what did they know about other members of the kit's pack? Novek looked over at Siya, sitting next to the bolts and knives Novek had arrayed on the step of the coach, for ease of access — the kit was watching him intently.

  “… and then while out looking for that coach, my man here returns, and I'm told that someone's already made off with what I've negotiated for, put a down payment on, even. So tell you what, we'll pay you half what we agreed. We're practical men, we understand you saw an opportunity, and you took it. I can respect that. But you didn't put in the work, you didn't find it, it's not yours. It's ours.”

  Was this guy still talking? Novek looked to see what the group of bandits was doing. They'd started to slowly spread out again, now that they'd worked some courage back up. This time the spearmen and crossbowmen were moving in pairs, either too smart, or too scared to move alone. These guys were probably not professional bandits — it was more likely whoever he could scrape up quickly in response to an opportunity, and a couple of ringers. Yeah, his second in command there had a nice looking crossbow; Novek would keep an eye on him.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  What to do? The leader was armored, and using his horse for cover like many of the others were, and well past the distance Novek thought he could get a sure hit. The threat of setting fire was likely a bluff — they'd not risk the money, or the kit, unless they had to. He could likely fire into the massed group, but once engaged, they'd quickly realize they could just rush the coach; he couldn't kill all of them without undue risk to himself, Siya, or Ellie. He could fall back, but he'd be leaving Ellie here, and he'd rather not abandon her unless he had to. It might make sense to split up; let her defend the coach from cover, while he went on the offensive — away from her, so they couldn't just close on the coach with impunity.

  He reflected on it a moment. That seemed like the right decision.

  “Ellie, I'm going to go on the offensive and split their attention. If anyone comes close, shoot them, otherwise try not to draw attention to yourself.”

  Ellie squinted at him, “You're serious, aren't you?”

  Huh. He thought she'd ask if he was abandoning her. “Deadly serious. Watch Siya. I need to move fast and quiet for this. The crossbow is loaded and drawn; you'll only get one shot though — it's too heavy for you to span.”

  He put the crossbow down, picked up a few of his knives, and loosened some of his leather so he could stay close to the ground. Time to go to work.

  The main group of bandits had stayed near the road, with their horses. That wasn't a bad call on their part — it let them watch for unwanted attention, and keep them from being ambushed by slow movers in the grass. But the problem for them was that the two flanking pairs couldn't stay exactly in the road and still flank the coach, and more importantly, Novek didn't move slowly.

  There wasn't much wind, so he couldn't move at full speed without being observed, but as long as he didn't bend the grass down too far, they'd have a difficult time seeing the motion. Two of them had stayed on their horses, but they were further back — watching the road, not him. Which meant that no-one nearby should have enough of an angle to see the telltale movement and warn them.

  He decided to go opposite where the spearman had fallen, earlier. While the continued sounds of suffering might have lent him cover for his motion, some of them kept looking over to their downed compatriot.

  It was unfortunate that the bandit leader had apparently lost patience with the lack of response. He had resumed yelling — but Novek wasn't listening at this point. Ellie had taken it upon herself to answer back, however. That was good, it might buy a few more minutes of time.

  Novek was over halfway to the flanking pair when something went wrong. The bandits had gotten nervous about how long this was taking out on an open road, perhaps. Or they decided they'd had enough. Novek couldn't see what had happened from his low position, but suddenly Ellie's coach gun went off. Probably someone was trying what he was attempting. He should have thought of that.

  The next thing he heard was the thunk of a bolt slamming into wood, and a yelp from Ellie. Okay — time was up. He bounded the last few meters through the field, becoming visible at the top of his loping strides, and extended his claws, leaping at the bandit who had his crossbow looking towards Ellie and the coach, instead of covering his partner. Mistake.

  Novek's claws took the man in the throat, and he continued the leap, bounding past him. Continue or get back to the coach? He had to decide fast. Wait, what? Green eyes behind him, low in the grass.

  The decision was made for him. The kit had followed him, and was standing, frozen, a meter from where the body of the crossbowman had fallen. The green eyes were focused directly on Novek, and not on the spear wielder charging the kit from behind.

  The knives came out — all of them, as fast as he could throw them, as he charged back towards the kit. Most of them bounced off the man's leather armor — he hadn't had time to set up the throws properly, but it did stop him from charging Siya. The spearman turned to face Novek, and leveled the spear, snarling as best a Human could. The bandit thrust the spear directly at Novek's chest, and he had to dodge to the side, only to be met by a quick sweep as the point came inches from Novek's face.

  Okay, this guy knows what he's doing. That's bad. Novek was out of knives, didn't have his bow, and his teeth and claws required much closer proximity than the spear was going to permit. Run? No, the kit would be in danger. Novek snarled in frustration, a much better version than the man had managed. The thug knew he had the upper hand, and laughed haughtily, “Not so tough now, eh, kitten?”

  Which is when the kitten decided to attack. Tiny claws and teeth attached to the back of the spearman's boot, but could not penetrate. The man glanced down, but did not look away long enough for Novek to make a move. He then started to bring his boot up, to crush the kit, who was now hanging from his ankle, beneath his heel. His heel smoking with greenish mist.

  The smell of dissolving leather and flesh burst into Novek's nose as the man started screaming, trying to kick the kit off of his foot.

  He succeeded, in a way. The boot came off, and the kit flew with it. Still containing a foot.

  The bandit dropped to the ground, and the screams continued.

  Novek moved to scoop up the kit, after taking a moment to ensure the claws had stopped misting green, and ran back towards the coach, covering the distance in seconds.

  Ellie was pinned to the rear corner of the coach, tears in her eyes, a bolt sticking through the top of her shoulder, the coach gun dropped and forgotten. The horses were half out of their minds, trying to escape their harness, and the movement of the coach from their struggle was tearing her shoulder further.

  Novek rushed over, grabbed the bolt, and broke the tip off. Then he moved Ellie backwards off of the shaft, and she slid to the ground, holding the wound with the opposite hand.

  The bandit leader had gathered some courage, and had moved up towards the coach — he was wielding a sword, and was too confident not to have a combat Talent at the ready. Something with speed, probably — he knew Novek had a crossbow. His second was now standing out in front of the clustered group of thugs, and the man's eyes were lit up — bright green. Oh, a Talented sharpshooter — and he could sustain his Talent. Not good. Novek ducked down in cover, and retrieved his crossbow from where he'd left it for Ellie.

  Siya would not be put down again, despite Novek's attempts. The tiny claws were latched tightly to Novek's leather and through fur. Rage started to seep through Novek's professional demeanor. If they touched the kit…

  He growled, low, and threatening. Ellie started at the sound, but a slow, thin smile quickly settled in place. The kit stopped struggling immediately, and looked up at Novek's eyes, but did not let go.

  No, they hadn't hurt the kit… he had to keep cool so they wouldn't. He got it back under control. “Okay, it looks like we're out of options. The big mouth has a sniper for backup and is probably close combat Talented.”

  Even in pain, Ellie was still game for banter, it seemed. “Well, I've got one last dance left in me.” She gave up on holding back the bleeding, and picked up her coach gun, and reloaded the empty chamber with one hand.

  It was then that Novek looked up in the sky, and saw a dark shadow, still a ways off.

  “Okay, wait, new plan. We need to buy ourselves a couple of minutes. Keep their attention on us, and not the sky.”

  Ellie looked up, squinted, and saw the oncoming shadow somewhat off-target to intercept them. “Do they know where we are?”

  “Oh, good point. Okay, let's make some noise with your boom stick.”