"Thanks old man," Zanadar said sardonically, "We couldn't have done it without you." He turned to the blacksmith. "Are you all right, Grodek?"
"Your head is bleeding," Morgan observed. "Let me take a look at it."
Grodek rubbed his bald head and then held his hand out in front of him, examining it. "It's just a scratch, I'm fine, boy." The smith pointed at the gaping hole where the door had been. "It wasn't even locked you dumb brute!" he roared.
"I guess that's a yes," Zanadar said. He started to absently collect the attackers' weapons and put them in a pile on the floor. "You're welcome, by the way."
"I could have handled it just fine," Grodek responded sourly. He turned around, looking at all the mess. He cursed loudly. "Will someone please tell me, what, exactly that was all about?" he yelled furiously.
"Well I couldn't say for certain, but I believe those men came in here with the intent to attack you," Elandar stated.
Zanadar grabbed a large coil of rope from a hook hanging on the wall and began to bind the men's arms and legs.
The smith glared angrily at the old man. "Don't try me, Elandar."
"They probably came here to rob you and you just caught them by surprise," the big man said as he finished tying up one of the attackers.
Grodek stepped over one of the unconscious men, knelt down, and began to lift up the long wooden table that had been pushed on its side. "Don't think that I buy that nonsense for a second, Zanadar."
"Why not?"
Grodek stared at the big man coldly.
Morgan thought for a moment. "Grodek may be right," he said hesitantly.
Zanadar and the old man shared a brief, uneasy look. "What makes you say that?" he asked, his voice neutral.
"That one," he pointed to the grimy man who now lay bound tightly on the floor, "He said, 'they're the ones'. We are the ones what? What is that supposed to mean? Unless..."
"They were here for you Zanadar," the smith growled, "Who did you kill this time? Why are you in trouble?"
"Oh quit jumping to conclusions," the big man said irritably, "You always assume the worst."
"And I'm always right!" Grodek spat back. "They weren't surprised at all when they came in here and saw me." The smith's eyes widened. "They even knew I was working on your sword!"
Zanadar folded his arms across his chest. "How is that?" he said flatly.
Grodek pointed to the broken sword lying near the forge. "That was the first thing they went for. They didn't even try to attack me until I brained one of them with my hammer." He shook his fist angrily. "Blast it all, this is your fault!"
Zanadar peered at the large worthless blade on the ground. "You let them break my sword?" he accused.
"Five armed men sneak into my forge in the dead of the night and try to kill me." Grodek sputtered, "Yes, I let them break your sword."
"He didn't use them both at once anyway," Elandar cut in. He poked his staff at one of the bound men on the ground. "My, aren't you an ugly one?"
The big man sighed. "No matter," he said. "The important thing is that you were not seriously hurt. I don't need them both right now, I suppose."
"Told you," Elandar added.
"Spare me the sincerity," the blacksmith responded, "I don't need any more trouble here. Why are they after you?"
Zanadar glanced back at the old man. He was giving him a withering look. "I guess we had better ask one," the big man said, turning back to Grodek.
He walked over to the grimy man who had thrown the knife at him. The man still lay unmoving in the spot he had fallen. His arms and legs had both been tied tightly behind his back. Even if he were conscious, he would not have been able to move.
Zanadar pushed at him with his boot. "Wake up."
The man did not budge. Zanadar sighed and knelt down next to him. "Wake up," he repeated, shaking the man's shoulders. Still, he did not move. The big man mumbled something under his breath and stood up. "He's being difficult."
"So, maybe you should try another one then," Grodek pushed.
Zanadar glared at the smith. "Maybe I will," he shot back.
"Its nice to see that we are not above acting like children," Elandar commented. The two men ignored him.
The big man knelt beside one of the other attackers and shook him by his shoulders, the attacker's dark curly hair flipped about wildly. "You had better wake up," he threatened.
The man groaned and began to squirm. Zanadar dragged him along the floor a few feet and sat him upright against the wooden wall. He was about average height and had a stocky build, short, tangled hair and a mangy black beard. Zanadar knelt down directly in front of the man and leaned in closely. "Open your eyes," he ordered.
The man groaned again and wearily began to open his eyes. They were dark, and very bloodshot. As his vision came into focus, he noticed Zanadar kneeling in front of him. His eyes widened in surprise and he attempted to spring to his feet, managing only to knock himself over as he fought against his bindings. From the floor, he saw the rest of the attackers with their arms and legs tied neatly together and lying about on the hard floor of the smithy. He leaned himself back up against the wall and looked directly at Zanadar.
"What do you want?" he asked, his haggard voice defiant.
The big man laughed. "Funny question for you to be asking me, don't you think?"
"If you were going to kill me you'd have done it already," the man replied, "What do you want?"
"Straight forward enough, I can admire that," Zanadar said pleasantly. He then looked his captive directly in the eye and spoke again, his voice taking a much more serious tone. "Let's start with why you broke into the forge and tried to hurt my friend."
"Grodek is reputed to make quality blades. We came here to rob him. We did not think he'd be here."
The big man nodded. "I see," he said. He stood up and looked down at the man. "Thank you."
The bound man seemed to ease back into the wall as Zanadar walked over to the table. Grodek began to protest.
"What kind interrogation was tha-" the smith was cut off as Zanadar held up a finger and grinned. He picked up a large pair of iron tongs and turned back to the attacker.
"Open your mouth," he said, returning to the man's side.
"Why?" the attacker asked, eyeing the tongs worriedly.
"So I can rip out your tongue. If all you're going to do is lie, you might as well not have it."
A look of panic shot across the bound attacker's face. "I told you the truth. I swear it."
"Then I apologize." Zanadar replied, "Now, open wide." With one large hand, the big man held the attacker's head back against the wall. "This is going to hurt a lot," he said as he slowly lowered the tongs down into the man's mouth. Despite the bound attacker's struggles, he clasped the tongue firmly between the tong's pincers and gave it a sharp tug.
Morgan started to say something, but was hushed by Elandar. The old man gave the ranger an assuring wave and then went back to happily watching Zanadar.
The man's head jarred forward as he screamed. He tried to speak, nearly choking himself in the process. Zanadar removed the tongs from his mouth.
"Did you have something to say?" he asked.
The man cursed. "You're a lunatic!" he yelled.
Zanadar nodded. "Was that it, then?" he asked as he began to lower the tongs back towards the attacker's face.
"Wait!" the man said urgently.
Zanadar raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"All right... we didn't come to rob Grodek."
"You don't say?"
"We were sent for you three," he said, giving the big man an icy stare.
"Us three!" Morgan repeated incredulously. "What did I do?"
The man smirked grimly. "Maybe it's the company you keep, boy."
"Who sent you?" Zanadar asked.
He shrugged. "I don't know."
Grodek slammed his fist on to the table. "What do you mean you don't know?" he demanded.
The attacker nodded towards the grimy man on the floor next to him. "He's the one who hired us. If you want to know who ordered it, ask him. I don't ask questions, I just get paid."
Zanadar frowned.
"Maybe you shouldn't have hit that one so hard." Elandar offered.
"You're not really helping, old man," he replied. He looked back to the captive. "How did you know where we'd be?"
"He told us," the bound attacker again looked back towards the man on the floor. "When we met up with him a few hours ago most of us came here, but he sent a few somewhere else. Listen, I was just doing what I was told. He promised we wouldn't have to kill anyone."
"Wouldn't have to kill anyone? Is that why you messed up my forge with all those weapons of yours?" Grodek fumed. "If Zanadar isn't going to do it, I'll rip your tongue out myself." The smith started towards the man.
The big man held up a hand. "One minute, Grodek. Then he's all yours, I promise." He studied the captive for a moment. "You said there were others. Where are they now?"
"They went somewhere else, they won't be coming here."
"You know, you're starting to irritate me." Zanadar grabbed the man's throat and began to squeeze. "Are you going to answer my question or not?"
"The stables," the man coughed, "They went to the stables."
An ill feeling began to creep through Morgan. The color drained from his face. Renna. The ranger grabbed his pack from the ground and raced out the broken doorway.
