Free Hammers in the Wind by Christian Warren Freed

profile of Bahr standing cautiously off to the side. He also noticed the black clad body crumpled on the floor.
    “I haven’t seen you in years, Bahr.” He reached out so they could clasp hands.
    “Not since we hunted down those raiders up the coast,” Bahr jovially replied.
    Boen lowered his sword. “Come on in. I hope you don’t mind the mess. The service only comes in once a week.”
    Stepping over the carnage, Bahr said, “I don’t think you’re going to get your deposit back.”
    “Sign of the times.” He propped up a chair that had been knocked over. “Have a seat.”
    The two friends sat down and were silent for a while.
    “I like what you did with the man in the hallway. He was going to be trouble for me. The bastard ruined my pillow.”
    Bahr finally broke into smile. “Ahh, that. You’re getting old. He wasn’t that much trouble.”
    “Aside from giving me a hand tonight what brings you here?” Boen’s eyes held a budding suspicion. The big man brushed his golden locks, shot through with gray, back from his face. Clean shaven, he had a scar on the corner of his right eye that ran down to his mouth. No one living knew how he got it. Despite being close to fifty, the Gaimosian was still heavily muscled and in fairly good fighting shape.
    Bahr explained everything. Naturally he omitted his personal dealings with Badron. That wasn’t anyone’s business and irrelevant to the mission. The Gaimosian sat back and listened intently. Much of what the Sea Wolf said was common knowledge. Badron was a temperamental man capable of terrible deeds. Of course that didn’t matter. Gaimosians were a kingdom-less people. They made their way across Malweir doing as they pleased. Known as Vengeance Knights, they continually searched for a future. They neither forgave nor forgot but Delranan’s problems were their own. He cared little. What did matter were the needs of a friend.
    Bahr settled back. His tale was finished and he knew he’d said enough to convince his friend to join him. He just wasn’t sure if Boen actually would.
    “I need you on this one,” he added. The extra pressure never hurt.
    Boen scraped some of the crusted blood from his chin. “How bloody are you expecting this to be?”
    “Fairly. I have a hunch this isn’t going to end when we bring Maleela back. Badron wants this war too bad to stop there.”
    “What he doesn’t want are loose ends. How can we be sure he’s not going to double cross us the moment we succeed?”
    Bahr smiled. “It wouldn’t be much of an adventure if everything was guaranteed. I already have two men who can help if need be.”
    “Who are they?”
    He almost laughed at the similarity between his friends. Everyone wanted to know who the other guy was. “A couple of local sell swords, Nothol Coll and Dorl Theed.”
    “Good men,” Boen approved. “All right, I’m in.”
    They shook on it and said their goodbyes. Bahr walked away feeling much better than when he had arrived. His chances were improving.
     
     
    “So, is he coming or not?” Dorl asked once the Sea Wolf returned to them.
    He was still incensed at being left outside. Common sense said let the younger men take care of the assassins. What the sell sword couldn’t know was that Bahr felt the need to do that just to prove that he still had it before this expedition got underway. He had to know he was still sharp enough to deal with the threats when they arose.
    The Sea Wolf barely nodded. “He’ll be there. This is getting better.”
    “If you say so,” Dorl shrugged. “Nothol and me could have handled it just fine.”
    “I know.”
    The sell swords were confused by the answer. Neither had anything relevant to say so they simply fell in line behind Bahr and went back to his estate. Dawn was coming fast and they all needed a little sleep before leaving port. Bahr felt satisfied for the first time in nearly a season. Once again the Dragon’s Bane would set forth on a quest. He struggled to