Chapter 13

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Mhylzul snorted. "I doubt it."

The black robe mulled it over a moment before he passed some coins to Neghez and dismissed him. "Your services were appreciated."

Mhylzul smiled. "A decision you won't regret."

Neghez pushed himself from the table, disgusted. He got up to leave and stared at Mhylzul. "Talk is cheap."

"So was your mother," Mhylzul replied.

Neghez unsheathed his sword and made a quick move towards Mhylzul, upending the table in the process. Mhylzul dodged the table and had his sword ready, parrying a thrust by Neghez and countering with a swift slash that cut Neghez' arm badly. Others entered the fray which was quickly getting out of hand. Mharkhel and Setryv both moved to end the fracas and had their hands full. Mharkhel took on an already heavily bleeding Neghez, bringing him to his knees with two powerful smites. Setryv went after Mhylzul. The knight spotted him opposite a group of combatants, but by the time he reached there, Mhylzul had disappeared into thin air. Neither was there any sign of the black robe.

Setryv suppressed a few lingering skirmishes and got back to Mharkhel, who was attending Neghez. "How is he?"

"Bad, but he will live," replied Mharkhel.

Setryv winked at Mharkhel. "A shame. I should kill him. It will make it easier for us."

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