The rest of the week passed relatively uneventfully with Kyren ensuring every detail she could possibly manage was handled and the rest of us doing our best to lighten her load. The soldiers were kind enough to help Hrig train, though she had fewer and fewer volunteers to spar with her every day. Eventually it actually became a punishment that Captain Tylus would liberally dole out to any soldiers he thought were spending too much time with the female staff, or in one female recruit's case the blacksmith’s apprentice.

As we packed and prepared for our journey to the capital Kyren called me down to the reception hall. I assumed one of the remaining bars needed to be pried loose and they needed my help, but when I arrived each of the twenty foot bars was already laid neatly across the floor.

Kyren waved me over to her.

“Hey, you needed help with something?” I asked.

“I feel a little embarrassed to ask this, but could you… well would you mind storing a few of these for me.”

“Sure, I can do that, but why?”

“I want to take them into the city to get an appraisal and confirm to one of the debtors that what I have is genuine. It’s a noble my brothers owed money to. If he confirms it, the other debtors will have his word that I have the means to pay them and I can have more time to find a buyer. I’m going to have Stone hide the rest in hidden areas on the property.”

“Makes sense to me.” I moved over and lifted one of the bars. Despite it being only two inches in diameter it was exceptionally heavy and I found myself needing to adjust my stance to lift it while also holding it steady. I opened my faceplate and gently lowered the bar into myself. Kyren averted her eyes, blushing slightly.

“What’s the matter?” I asked as I began lifting the second bar.

“It’s just, seeing your faceplate down. The blackness of it. It feels like… well it feels like seeing someone naked.”

I laughed. “Technically I’m always naked in a way. I consider this,” I knocked on my chest, “my skin, though both the armor and what’s inside are ‘me’ if that makes sense.”

She shook her head, “It doesn’t, but I don’t understand why Hrig is so fond of fighting, or why Stone feels the need to steal all the time either.” She looked thoughtful. “I guess seeing your, well let’s call it a ‘face’ doesn’t break your oath to Dur.”

“How would we know? Is it not possible that I've broken it already?”

“Oh no, you’d know if you’d broken an oath like that one. Maybe it’s because I’m not seeing you ‘outside’ the armor since the armor is you. Or perhaps because it’s because you're not ‘outside’ the armor, just your face is exposed. Dur is a real stickler for precise wording, and he has a tendency to interpret things in odd ways.”

“I’m just hoping he’s not paying too close of attention to me.”

She smiled, “I’m afraid that with how things have been going for us, I’d be surprised if he wasn’t one of many gods keeping their eyes on us.”

Hrig and Stone entered the room as the last couple feet of the third bar disappeared. Stone was carrying his usual packs, but along with that he also had a single large sack.

“I see you had the same idea I did.” said Stone

“Which is?”

“To have Sevald here help with the packing.” He handed me the sack. I opened it and found multiple faceplate sized packages with foodstuff or coin. “I figured it would be easier on us if you carry those. I’d understand though if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine, I can do it. Honestly it’ll help me feel less guilty for all the times you guys pulled me on wagons or sleds, thinking I was too hurt to walk.” I started to store the packages.

“Not to mention the fact that you could’ve taken the entirety of every night’s watch,” said Hrig.

I shrugged, that was true.

Hrig frowned,“Did you still want us to call you Sevald by the way? I mean, it’s not really your name.”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Do you have your own name? One from before?” asked Stone.

“No, my master didn’t give me one. Just referred to me as ‘armor’ which, while accurate, I don’t think counts as a name.”

“Would you like to pick a new one?” asked Kyren.

“I think you’d make a great ‘Stone’, maybe with your own surname. Something like ‘Stone Under Steel’.”

“I think people would be confused if I had a dwarven name. Besides, other people already know me as ‘Sevald’. I think I’ll stick with it for now. It’s what I’m used to.”

They nodded, seemingly relieved that they wouldn’t need to make any major adjustments.

“Are we taking a carriage?”

“No, the capital isn’t too far and Its been awhile since we’ve actually walked anywhere, and since Sevald can carry everything for us I don’t think we need a wagon either.”

“Don’t worry, if you get tired I can carry you,” said Hrig with a wink to me. She knew by now that I didn’t get tired.

Before we left Kyren spoke with Imiri one more time about where she could be located while in the capital. Imiri was a middle aged woman, with soft eyes, and silvery hair. She projected an air of competent confidence and clearly had been involved with every aspect of managing the house before Percy and Byren had dismissed her. I also got the impression that she’d worked closely with Kyren’s grandmother, though I had no concrete proof of that.

We left through the main gate. Between the work of the last week, the soldiers now garrisoned at the estate, and the competent staff running things Kyren seemed confident that the Wyrwind house was at least in order enough to allow her to return to what she considered her more important work. The fact that her brothers were now wanted men and would be hunted if they ever re-entered Caedun was also a welcome comfort.

The trail to the manor eventually became the road to the capital. It wasn’t too busy near the noble estates, the most we ran into for the majority of the day was couriers carrying messages and servants bringing goods to the various manors they served. By evening the roads were empty and we set up camp in a small clearing that had clearly been used as a campsite before.

We started a fire and I pulled a parcel of food out of my faceplate that turned out to contain a plucked chicken, potatoes and garlic. I went to start cooking, but Stone stopped me.

“Come now lad, you're already carrying everything and taking the watch tonight, you don’t have to cook too.”

“Yeah, you don’t even eat. Let us handle it,” said Kyren.

“It’s okay, I like to cook. One of the people I ate, Syven, was a chef or at least wanted to be.”

“Do you want to cook though?”

I thought about it, thinking back to the time I cooked at the brothel. “It’s not so much that I want to cook as I want to help and I enjoy it when people like my cooking.”

“How about this lad, we’ll take turns. I’ll cook tonight, let me sleep with at least a marginally clear conscience.”

“Stealing doesn’t bother you, but a friend cooking for you does?” asked Kyren.

“Exactly.”

…

This time the night didn’t pass quietly. Ten men, dressed in dark cloaks and wearing black cloth masks approached the camp. Three more had bows and hung back preparing them. The rest had a mixture of short swords and daggers and started closing in.

Before they got close enough to see us I woke Kyren who woke Hrig and Stone. Stone slipped away before they got too close and I kept my back to them while Hrig positioned herself to launch out of her bedroll.

The first of them got near enough to me to reach me with his sword. He raised it and at the moment he was about to strike I spun my helmet around 180 degrees. He screamed and fell backward into the mud. I stood and turned my body around until it was facing the same direction as my head. I then lifted my leg and kicked his face, hearing bones crack as I did.

The dead bandit’s scream had caused his companions to rush me, but Hrig caught them by surprise, tackling three to the ground before they had any idea what was happening. I heard an arrow whistle past me and turned my attention to the bowman just as Stone landed heavily on his shoulders knocking him to the ground and giving himself the perfect angle at which to strike his head with his hammer. Before the other two bowmen could react he leapt again driving his heels into the face of one and on landing he struck the knee of the other, causing a loud pop.

Two of the bandits charged me, waving their shortswords. I didn’t bother drawing my own, instead I lifted the man whose face I’d kicked and threw him at their legs. They tripped and rolled forward, but one of them actually used the momentum to roll back to his feet and continue his charge driving the point of his sword toward my chest. I stepped to the side and grabbed his wrist, squeezing until I heard a crunching sound. He fell to the ground just as his companion had regained his composure and charged me. He was wielding only a dagger so I prepared a straight right to his face, but before I could throw it a rock struck him in the temple. I turned back toward Kyren who was whirling her sling, preparing to fling another stone.

Hrig had four men down and bleeding under her and was fighting three more. She didn’t have her axe, but was wielding a short sword she must have taken from one of the attackers. All three of the men were raining down blows at her, but she was deftly dodging and deflecting all of them, a smile on her face. She ducked under an overextended slash and lodged the shortsword into another man’s foot before launching herself into an uppercut that took the first man in the chin and threw him several yards. The last of them tried to strike her face with a mace, but she leaned just a hair out of its reach before closing the distance and punching his throat which sent him gasping for air to the ground. The man with the sword in his foot managed to remove it just in time for Hrig to bring the other man’s mace across his temple. By the end of it she didn’t have a scratch on her. All that training she’d been doing since fighting Donyin seemed to be paying off.

With the last bandit down we took stock. Thirteen men, most dead or dying. I grabbed the living ones and tied them around a tree using a sailing knot I learned from Lythia.

We searched the bodies and found nothing but some coins and a few rings. I decided to keep a few of the nicer weapons and stored them.

“What do we think? Regular bandits or assassins?” I asked.

“Bandits I’d say. Probably servants trying to make quick gold by robbing people on the roads between estates. The masks are to hide their faces in case they rob their own employers,” said Stone.

“Any of yours?” I asked Kyren.

She looked around. “No, but there are a few whose faces aren’t really recognizable anymore so I can’t be certain.” She shrugged. “I can’t blame them. For a lot of servants the pay is just enough to survive on, and many lords are worse than others when it comes to how they treat people.”

“I’ve had words with more than a few when Ellis got me to attend a party and I saw one of the lords strike a maid. Maybe it wasn’t words, so much as fists, but you understand.”

“Shall we just leave them like this?” I gestured to the ones who were tied up.

“Aye, it may be some time until someone finds them. I think the scene will speak for itself.”

With that we packed our gear to the occasional moans of pain of the living bandits. There was no chance of getting any more sleep after the scuffle. Kyren insisted on taking a moment to perform last rites over the bodies, but she didn’t have us bury them, just cover them with their cloaks, she said that was more than enough for people who tried to kill us, at least in Sidi’s eyes.