Chapter Thirty
An Impossible Choice
Barlo did his best to hold the Direlings off, but they seemed completely focused on attacking him and Paige. He kept his tired arms moving, his ax a constant blur. A pile of bodies lay around him. Some had been reduced to piles of ash by Lysandir. Barlo was disgusted by the waste of it.
These people are humans. They aren’t inherently evil. They’re just fanatics who have thrown their lot behind the wrong god.
If he thought he could have reasoned with them, he would have. As it was, he did his best to knock his opponents unconscious whenever possible, killing only when he had no other choice. The Direlings didn’t thank him for his mercy—not that he had expected any different. He could feel bruises forming where he had been hit by stones from their slin
