I pulled the draft horses to a halt as the adventurers slowed their mounts and clustered off ten yards to our right. My homunculi shifted uneasily at their presence and I ordered the Slammer to stop chewing on his shield.

This is serious business, I growled at him. Cut that shit out.

The Tracker chuckled as he cast his gaze over the cart.

“Good day, friend! What brings you this far north?” he asked cheerily.

“Business,” I replied. “Yourself?”

“We’ve just finished a dungeon raid. We’re headed back to an inn closeby, to the west.”

“What guild do you belong to?” the Hunter piped up.

The elf directed his question at Alexia. The blood mage froze, unsure of what to say, and I chuckled at the elf’s rudeness. Travellers were common enough in the North, and plenty of them didn’t belong to a guild.

“We’re not part of any guild, friend,” I said smoothly. “I’m a companion farmer, and these are my associates. As for the homunculi, well, the roads can be dangerous this time of year.”

A rapid, calculating glance rippled between the three adventurers. I pulled my fingers back when I realized I was slowly reaching for my arbalest. I’d seen the same expression on Brigmann’s and Kilcoy’s faces. The Tracker turned back to me and his smile widened in genuine delight.

“Well, they’re certainly of excellent make. Are you looking for customers at present?”

I shrugged. “Depends on the coin they’re prepared to pay. I offer a relatively small range of high-quality homunculi suited for dungeon divers of high standing.”

The Fighter barked a laugh of disbelief and pointed to my Slammer. “That looks pretty fucking standard,” he said.

“Bringing high-quality homunculi out here means risking damaged goods,” I pointed out. “Which means I don’t make a good sale. So I settle for a more economical method of protection for my travels.”

“And where are you headed?” the Tracker asked.

“Further north to see a supplier,” I said. “Need to pick up a few items.”

“There’s an inn a few miles north of here. Mind if we join you while we travel there?” the Tracker asked. “I could go in for a bed free of lice and a nice warm meal. What about you, Berred? Tystian?”

“Better lodgings would suit me perfectly,” the elf—Tystian—answered.

“So long as we can make a stop at the brothel,” grunted the Fighter. “It’s been a week since I’ve managed to fuck a whore. They’re in short supply in the mountains.”

I turned to the girls behind me. Selene gave me a devious smile and Alexia simply stared at the adventurers in fascination. The blood mage’s mouth trembled as her curiosity threatened to spill over into a torrent of questions. I slapped the reins and clicked my tongue, and the cart jolted as we started forward again. The adventurers matched our modest pace, the Tracker making sure to position himself to my immediate right.

“So, how much do you charge for a head?” the skinny man asked.

“Hundred silver coins,” I answered effortlessly. “Extra thirty coins if you want them delivered in the Northern Regions.”

The Tracker blanched at my price. “That’s obscene!”

I shrugged. “Decent homunculi are in short supply these days, and I work faster than any other farmer you’ve ever heard of. So it’s a fair price if you want a product that lasts.”

“And where’s your farm?” the Tracker asked.

I tapped my nose and smirked. “Trade secret, my friend. You’ll have to catch me when I open up a trading post in Roarwind. We can negotiate companions then.”

The Tracker nodded his thanks and retreated to rejoin his comrades. The Fighter—who I assumed was Berred—couldn’t take his eyes off Selene. The bastard was practically drooling as he stared at her. Tystian had resumed his uninterested expression, but it was all a front. The elf’s glances at Alexia were enough to convince me that this little guild detachment hadn’t joined us to make small talk and pass the time.

Selene’s gorgeous legs appeared in my peripheral vision. The blond mage slipped effortlessly into the seat on my right and slung an arm lazily around my neck. She leaned in and her full mouth brushed my ear. Pleasure blasted through my skin like lightning and I shivered slightly at the contact.

“Don’t get too excited,” Selene breathed slyly.

I grinned and leaned in to whisper back. “Let me guess, you don’t like their auras. Or the fact that they decided to turn around and follow us the moment they found out I farm homunculi.”

“Oh, good, so the friendly-salesman thing was just an act. I thought you’d suddenly turned as mercenary as me, and forgotten about your criminal enterprises.”

My hand crept around her waist and pulled her a little closer to keep up the act. I caught Berred’s eye, and he ripped his gaze away from Selene instantly. The mage’s perfume swam over my senses and I struggled to stop myself from kissing her.

All for the show, of course. It had nothing to do with my slamming pulse.

“Tell me about them,” I said.

Selene shifted, leaned closer, and made a show of kissing my neck. “Berred is an animal driven by rage and lust. Tystian is full of cruelty but lacks any kind of love. Neither of them are possessed of any magical talent.” Selene’s breath tickled my skin as her lips drifted back to my ear again. “Their leader, however, masters some simple spells and is filled to the brim with deceit.”

“Poetic,” I chuckled. “Their homunculi are poorly made and not maintained. If it comes to a fight, we have the advantage, but I’d rather not start one here. Stay alert.”

I caught Berred staring at Selene again and glared at him until he withdrew his gaze.

“Well, well, you’re protective,” she purred.

“If a fight breaks out, retreat and support from a distance,” I said.

Selene nodded, gave me a genuine smile that lit up her eyes, and then settled back into the cart beside Alexia. My blood mage piped up suddenly and directed her question at Tystian.

“What’s it like to go into a dungeon?” Alexia asked.

“Hard. Dangerous. Endless.” Tystian answered with undisguised irritation. “Someone of your pedigree has dived dungeons before, surely?”

Alexia shook her head. “No, regrettably not. What do you find on your adventures?”

Tystian met her eye and smirked. “All kinds of things, youngling. Gold. Minerals. Fallen corpses of other adventurers less skilled or more foolhardy.”

“Is that why you bring companion homunculi?” Alexia pressed excitedly. “The danger?”

The Hunter narrowed his eyes and stared at her. I gritted my teeth and silently directed my homunculi toward the right of the cart. My soldiers moved casually enough and the adventurers didn’t blink as my companions edged into a line to create a wall between the cart and the horses.

“Do you spend no time educating your lessers?” Tystian asked me coldly. “Companions are disposable, youngling. They’re shields of flesh that serve us and are barely worth the coin we pay for them.”

“Doesn’t stop you paying the coin, does it?” Selene interjected cheerily.

“They’re inefficient,” Berred laughed. “I mean, look at them. My horse is smarter than these drooling bastards.”

Alexia’s face slid into a cold mask of fury. “So you don’t care for them.”

Tystian slipped his foot out of a stirrup and kicked my Shield Slammer in the face. The homunculus tripped, and his skull cracked against the side of the cart. My hand caught hold of my arbalest as the adventurers beside us laughed. I took a deep breath to steady the ice-cold fury crackling through my veins and ordered my companion to its feet. The Slammer stumbled up to its feet and shook a line of blood out of its eye.

Alexia glared at Tystian and got to her feet in one fluid move. She bit down on her hand. Tystian sneered at her.

“What’s wrong, youngling?” he said. “Can’t stand the sight of a little violence?”

Blood spilled around Alexia’s hand and wreathed itself into a crackling ball of energy. The adventurers stared at her as the blood mage lifted up the small orb for them to see. I released the reins of the cart, snatched up my arbalest, and brought it to bear just as Alexia opened her fingers. Her spell whipped forward and hit Tystian in his right shoulder. Magic exploded outward, ripping his eye cleanly out of its socket and obliterating half of his jaw in a single pulse of raw energy.

“I’m a Companion, just as they are!” Alexia shouted.

“What the fuck?” Berred snarled as he yanked his horse to a halt.

Tystian slid nervelessly out of his saddle and smashed into the grass at his feet. I lunged off the front seat of the wagon to the left as the adventurers dived off their mounts. I slammed my shoulder blades into the side of the cart, using it as cover, and peeked over the top of it.

“I think you’ve been lying to us, traveller,” the Trapper called out cheerily. “You did bring the cream of the crop with you—and we’re taking her with us!”

“Like hell you are,” Selene growled.

The blond mage hooked Alexia’s arm and hauled her over the side of the wagon. The women landed beside me in a whirl of black cloaks. A fresh orb of energy swarmed around Alexia’s hand and I caught her wrist before she could fire off another blast of magic.

“We need them in one piece if possible,” I told her urgently. “And I need you both at a good range for magic. When I give the word, break cover and retreat. Selene, can you bedazzle them?”

“If I can get a clear shot,” she said.

“Wait for my signal to hit them,” I said.

“Farmer!” the Trapper called out. “This is an unfortunate accident, but perhaps we can negotiate some terms? Ones that don’t involve death, destruction, and an unfortunate mess?”

“What do you have in mind?” I shouted back to play for time.

Berred roared and raced out from around his horse toward the front of the cart. My two mages sprinted away from the cart in a crouch and I reached out to the minds of my homunculi as I spun out of cover. The Fighter blasted toward my Pike Piercer just as I directed my Slammer to take the blow on his tower shield. An echoing crack of splintering wood exploded across the hills.

Keep him busy, I ordered the Piercer and the Slammer. Work as a unit and keep him at a distance.

Berred laughed as the Slammer shoved him back. My Piercer stabbed at him, but he stepped out of range and shrugged his shield over his left arm. The Slammer and Piercer marched forward as one and pressed him away from the cart.

Attack the Trapper, I ordered my Swordsman.

My warrior grinned and hefted his weapon as he sprang forward after the second adventurer. I drew a bead on the closest enemy homunculus and saw the Trapper duck a swipe from my best creation. Blue energy sparked from the Trapper’s fingertips as he drew a rapid sigil on the ground and cartwheeled away to avoid the Swordsman’s massive blade. Azure light burst out of the ground, latched onto the Swordsman’s boot, and instantly encased him in ice.

I swore and reached out to the Yeoman Archer. Duck down until I tell you otherwise.

Details swarmed in and I rapidly created a mental picture of the situation. The Fighter’s formidable melee skills kept my Piercer and Slammer at bay. The Trapper was using the horses as cover. My Swordsman was out of the fight and vulnerable. And yet the guild’s homunculi stood there in dumbfounded amazement—which meant that the surviving adventurers didn’t have any idea of how to use a mental link to direct them.

“Kill the farmer!” the Trapper cried. “Find him and kill him, you useless bastards!”

The guild homunculi barrelled forward in a tight cluster. They stumbled around the back of the cart and forced me to adjust my aim. I lined up a shot on the Crossbowman, steadied my arbalest against the side of the wagon, and pulled the trigger. The steel crossbow jerked in my hands and my shot caught my target straight in the mouth. The barbed point of the projectile punched through the back of the homunculus’s head and severed his spinal cord.

Eye of the Hawk! I shouted silently at the Archer. Aim for the Footsoldier!

The Yeoman Archer whipped an arrow out of his quiver, braced his foot against the side of the cart, and took aim. White power blazed around the arrow as the homunculus drew back his huge bow and released it. The arrow sprang free of the string and punched into the Footsoldier’s helmet from less than four feet away. The enemy companion staggered backward but the arrow didn’t penetrate. I’d only bought a few precious seconds.

My arbalest was empty, and I didn’t have the time to reload it. I tossed the weapon into the cart just as I heard a throaty yell of excitement. I spun to my right and spotted the enemy Slammer advancing on me with lumbering steps. An ugly grin split his face as he raised his shield and braced himself for a charge.

My eyes found the still-loaded crossbow of the fallen homunculus just as the Shield Slammer barrelled toward me. I didn’t have time to jump clear, so I did the first thing that came to mind. I dropped to the ground and spread myself flat. The enemy Slammer’s boot found my ribs as he tried to slow down. The momentum from the Slammer’s charge carried him over me in a whirl of limbs and hair. I twisted into a crouch, came to my feet, and dived for the fallen crossbow beside the left wheel of the wagon. My hands closed around it just as the mental thread between my mind and my own Shield Slammer vanished.

“Is this all you have?” Berred roared.

I bit back a curse as I lifted the crossbow and aimed at the fallen Shield Slammer. The enemy homunculus groaned and struggled fruitlessly to find its feet. I risked a glance under the wagon and saw the Trapper’s boots slide up behind my Pike Piercer. Blood splattered the ground and my mental link with the spear-wielding homunculus vanished.

Two of my homunculi had fallen, but I still had the advantage.

Keep the Fighter busy, I ordered the Archer.

“Selene, get the Swordsman free!” I shouted aloud.

I yanked the trigger on my stolen crossbow. The quarrel ripped free of the weapon and punched into the ribs of the fallen Slammer. The homunculus grunted, rolled the wrong way, and drove the barbed projectile deeper into his body. I tossed the crossbow aside and climbed to my feet just as Selene dashed past me in a trail of black leather and blond hair.

I vaulted into the cart to get a better vantage point.

My Archer’s hands blurred as it sent arrow after arrow toward Berred. He snarled as the feathered shafts slammed into his armor and punched into his shield. The Trapper sprang away, dived into a roll, and scrambled to take cover behind his terrified horse.

“It’s done, Caleb!” Selene shouted.

I glanced over my shoulder. Hazy magic blurred around my frozen Swordsman while cracks spiderwebbed through his icy prison. The Swordsman tensed suddenly and the magic binding shattered around his limbs. My homunculus hefted his sword and looked up at me for orders.

Go after the Trapper and don’t give him time to breathe, I ordered.

“Fuck you!” Berred howled.

I scooped up my arbalest, slipped my foot through the stirrup, and rapidly cranked the weapon to reload it. Berred staggered as yet another arrow hit him in the arm and forced him to drop his shield. I slid a fresh quarrel into my crossbow just as the Fighter barrelled forward at the draught horses.

“Get him dizzy,” I told Selene.

The mage stepped out to the left of the cart and lifted her hands. A rippling haze appeared in her hands at a wordless command, and she blasted the Fighter with a beam of power. He staggered backward like a drunk as the hazy energy washed over him. My Yeoman fired off another arrow and hit the bastard in the gut. I lifted my loaded arbalest and sighted in on Berred’s throat just as he lifted his eyes to meet mine.

“You’ll pay for this,” he hiccuped.

“You should’ve stuck to raiding dungeons,” I told him.

I pulled the trigger and punched a hole in his jugular. The adventurer collapsed to his knees and blood fountained from his ruined throat. My eyes swept off him and searched out the last member of the little guild. A flash of steel and a scream of pain helped me pinpoint the Trapper’s exact location. The sneaky fucker lost his half-mount on his horse and tumbled to the ground. My Swordsman raised his blade to finish him off.

Halt, I ordered. Pin him down, level the sword at his neck, and keep him there.

I had intentions other than a swift death for this final adventurer.