“Ho!” Vane shouted.
“Ho!” the gang responded cheerfully.
The fight began. The guards didn’t stand a chance. They fell dead the moment they unsheathed their swords. Not one of them could fight alone against three or four bandits. There were bloodcurdling screams and shouts, desperate cries for help, clanging of metal and smell of blood, but Vane didn’t allow himself to get distracted. He needed to find the warlock, the only one that was capable of stopping them singlehandedly.
“Warlock!” he shouted, plunging a dagger into the visor of someone’s helmet. “Where are you?!”
A tall man emerged from between the stagecoaches when the last guard fell. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, wrapped in a tattered cloak, and with his head covered by a hood that hid his face. His powerf
