Lleu swung around, his dark eyes blazing. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who will not stand for you abusing your fellow Evendarians.” Shade moved forward, weaving through the tables and drawing his hood back as he walked.

A hush fell; most of the patrons turned to stare. Wide eyes found the schiavona at his hip—against Olorian law to wear—and traveled upward to the set of parallel scars cutting diagonally across his face from right temple to the left side of his jaw.

Lleu’s four bullyboys crowded up behind him. One, with a crooked nose, cracked his knuckles, grinning. Another fingered a cleaver, much like Lleu’s own.

“This ain’t no business of yours, outsider,” Lleu said. “You don’t want no trouble.”

“That’s an interesting assumption for you to make, given the present circumstances.” Shade cocked his head but never broke stride.

Two more steps took him to within arm’s reach of Lleu, who realized too late that Shade wasn’t stopping. His cleaver started to come up, but Shade caught Lleu’s wrist in an iron grip, bringing his right knee up to smash into Lleu’s knuckles. Yelping, Lleu dropped the cleaver.

His friends surged forward, but Shade ignored them. Instead, he clamped his left hand down on the back of Lleu’s neck, propelling him forward and smashing his forehead off the bar. The blow wasn’t quite enough to knock him out, but Lleu fell, sputtering and moaning, while Shade turned back to face the others.

That same left hand swept back to shove his cloak aside, revealing the silver hilt of his schiavona. Shade didn’t draw, but his left hand, resting on the scabbard, did thumb the blade up an inch or two just to loosen her.

He met the redhead bully’s—Cavus, Nessie called him—eyes while Lleu mumbled something insensible.

“My name is Shade.”

“You’re…” Cavus trailed off, jaw dropping.

“Yes.” Shade took a step forward, cocking his head. “I am.”

Cavus dropped his cleaver, backing up a step. One of the others went with him. The other two, including the crooked-nosed knuckle-cracker, glanced at Cavus in confusion but didn’t move.

“It’s still four against one,” Crooked Nose said.

“I don’t make a practice of killing Evendarians,” Shade said. He still hated that the venatores forced him to, and he didn’t want to hurt these fools—only to scare them. “And nor should you.”

“We’re just tryin’ to scare them a little.” Cavus’ voice was tiny for such a large man. He skittered back another step.

“And you should not abuse your fellow Evendarians, either. The Olorians do that quite often enough, don’t you think?” Shade’s voice went sharp, and with it, his old accent; he pulled his fury back with an effort, softening his tone. “We are all less than nothing to them. Are you going to fight like animals for their amusement, butcher each other because they showed you that you should?”

“It’s not your business,” Crooked Nose said.

“Shut up,” Cavus hissed.

Crooked Nose scowled. “We can take him.”

“He’s a fucking Night Rider, Diamus. Who the fuck wants to fuck with a Night Rider?”

Diamus of the Crooked Nose turned to stare at Shade. “You’re a Night Rider?”

“Did I not say that? I thought the name would give it away.”

“Shit.” Diamus dropped his knife, which bounced off the floor and hit his friend in the leg. Luckily, it only scraped against his boots, but he still yelped.

Turning back to Lleu, Shade hauled him to his feet by the back of his tunic. Lleu was still glassy-eyed and useless, so Shade pitched him into the waiting arms of his friends. Lleu groaned as they caught him.

“I recommend you reconsider your line of work, gentlemen,” he said. “And if you think for one moment that you can resume your little ‘protection’ racket when I’m gone, keep in mind that I am not the only Night Rider. I will make sure the others know to watch you.”

Cavus gulped noisily.

Shade smiled. “And let’s say that you don’t want to find out what happens if I have to come back and deal with you again.”

Lleu and his so-called lords fled, with the would-be bullies half-carrying, half-dragging their boss. Without another word, Shade returned to his table, sat down, and sipped his wine.

A few minutes later, Nessie approached.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” She swallowed. “Then again, I don’t suppose any of you lot have to do what you do.”

“Someone has to.” And I swore an oath.

Thinking like that made a knot twist in his stomach. Instance swore an oath, too, one he fulfilled with far too much grace.

“Your meals and room will be on the inn tonight. Don’t you think of payin’, not after helping us like that,” Nessie said.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I pay for services rendered. And I’m sure you can put the money to good use.” Shade let his eyes flick to the rafters to his left, where a shoddy repair held them together.

Nessie crossed her arms. “Takes a brave man to argue with me, but I guess you’ve proven that.”

“I have my moments.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

He almost asked for a warm bath, but there was no telling if Lleu’s idiots’ gain in brainpower was temporary. If it wasn’t, they’d likely come back tonight and try to kill him, and Shade preferred not to be caught naked in the bath. Fighting like that was just undignified.

“No need.”