Chapter Thirty-Seven

**Skirmish**

An arrow flew from Jax’s bow and struck the kneecap of a man charging towards Jason and Byron. The weighted arrowhead shattered the man’s bones with a sickening crunch. The man fell to the ground and a few nearby villagers gasped, an permanent injury to one’s appendages was as good as a death sentence for a manual laborer.

Most of the crowd was focused on the inferno engulfing almost half of the town. People ran in every direction. Some to help fight the fire, some to find their families, and some to gather their valuables, but a handful managed to notice Jax and Jason.

The man moaning with the arrow jutting through his leg was enough to give the half dozen onlooker’s second thoughts about attacking Jason and Jax. Some even turned and ran off. Despite the violent air on the main street, most of the villagers hadn’t brought weapons with them besides the short knives most people wore on the belts as a multitool. “Hurry,” Jax cried to Jason. The hunter cocked a second arrow and made it known to the villagers he was ready to fire again if they charged.

With haste, Jason began sawing at the thick binds tying Bryon to the post. Jason finally had a chance to look at the reeve and saw the man was blindfolded. “Wha… what…sss going on,” Byron's voice slogged, he sounded like a drunk. Dark blood caked with mud-stained the man’s clothes and blindfold. Salty sweat drenched Byron’s face staining what parts of his clothes weren't marred by blood with grime.

“It’s me, Byron…” Jason began.

“Oh Jason,” Byron moaned, “I…I couldn’t give you u…up. The…they would have k…kept attacking us if I…I didn’t give myself up.” Tears began to run down the folds of man’s blindfold. With one last saw, the binds around Byron’s hands came loose and Jason quickly pulled the man’s blindfold off before kneeling down and cutting at the binds around Byron’s feet.

“Jason,” Jax yelled.

Jason heard a clashing of metal but it was far off. He looked up and saw that while the crowd had dispersed more peopled had noticed them and were forming a half-circle around them. Anytime someone tried to get behind them Jax would raise his bow and they would back off. Jason's heart raced, the only reason why the onlookers weren’t attacking yet was that none of them had weapons to counter Jax.

Load stomps clambered behind Jason encroaching on him faster than he could comprehend. As the sound was just behind him he clamped his eyes shut prepared to feel a blade through his back but the sound rushed past him. Jason flung his eyes open and saw the militiaman that was their signal had arrived and was helping Jax to keep back the ever-increasing ring around them with a level spear.

“There,” Jason exhausted as the binds around Byron’s legs came loose. The reeve crumbled nearly falling to the ground but Jason was able to catch him at the last moment. Byron’s body was still on top of him and Jason worried for a moment that the man had met his end, but a moment later the man coughed weakly and his chest began to move softly. Jason tried to rise but the reeve’s weight was too much for him. “Ah, I need help,” he cried to Jax and the militiaman.

The two looked between themselves, Jason, and the ring around them but before they could make a decision a villager rushed out from the line. Jax quickly lifted his bow and before the runner could take two more steps there was an arrow protruding from his shoulder. The crowd didn’t seem to like the loss and a few of its members ran off. Jax pushed the militiaman to go help Jason then notched another arrow.

“Where are you going,” an angry voice screamed, “get back there and get them. Don’t let that criminal escape or I’ll have you on the gallows.”

Jason craned his neck up his body crushed under the semiconscious Byron. Through gaps in the ring, Jason could see another group quickly approaching every member armed with a weapon of some kind. Worst of all at the head of the group was Malcolm. As one of the deserters ran past Malcolm, the man slashed the deserter across the chest with the blade of his sword. The deserter twitched on the ground and Malcolm’s posse roared loudly. Surprisingly a few more members of the original ring around Jason’s party also ran off but each in a direction away from Malcolm.

“Damn,” Jax hissed. He frantically looked between Jason and the quickly approaching Malcolm. Jason gave a sigh of relief as the militiaman helped him lift Byron but the pair instantly began dragging Byron towards the alley. "Where is Trent?"

“I’ve got him,” the militiaman grunted. “Take my spear and help Jax.” The man up until then had been helping drag Byron with only one hand. Without the need for further convincing Jason let go of Byron and grabbed the spear from the militiaman. The weapon felt odd and off-balance in his hands but it would offer better protection than his own knife.

On his own, the militiaman actually carried Byron faster than previously with Jason but just as the man made it into the alley Malcolm and his crew burst through the ring. Jax stopped at the alley entrance and Jason followed suit not daring to look back. Malcolm paused for a moment, the new entrants adding themselves to the ranks of the ring. An empty smile crossed Malcolm’s lips then he gave a nod.

A member of Malcolm’s crew broke the line rushing towards Jax and Jason with an ax in hand. Jax fired his bow this time sending the arrow through the invader's throat. The arrow hit the man like a storm knocking him off his feet and to the ground. The man laid still without a sound. Jason looked to Jax and saw the void in the archer's dark eyes.

Jason turned his head back and saw a pair of attackers rushing towards them. Jax was able to loosen another arrow knocking out a foe but the man was a hunter, not a warrior, his shots were precise, not fast. Jason had to use his spear to deflect the next attacker. The trader nearly dropped the weapon when their weapons clashed for the first time but Jax was there to help him by stabbing an arrow shaft into the attacker’s side. The man groaned but showed no threat as he fell to the ground disabled.

Jason panted heavily. Typically his stamina bar was hidden as he didn’t use the points often but now that he was exerting himself he could see the thin green bar in his lower vision. No numbers were displayed but he could see the bar was below half. Jax notched an arrow and Jason looked over to the hunter and saw he only had three arrows remaining. Jason winced, then looked up at the growing ring around them.

Malcolm stared blankly at the pair not showing any signs of what his next move would be. Jason gripped his spear tight but then a weight pushed into the back of them. He looked back and saw the militiaman was dragging Byron back out of the alley. Jason's heart sank as he saw a pair of angry men rushing down the alley towards him with wooden clubs in their hands.

Jax looked back and saw the militiaman, “what is the pro…” he turned his head down the alley and went quiet. “lay him against the building and take one of their weapons,” Jax told the man gesturing his head to one of Malcolm’s fallen goons. The militiaman instantly followed and picked up an ax then turned to guard Jason and Jax’s backs from the men coming down the alley. “Do you pray?” Jax asked quietly.

“What?” Jason said squinting his eyes. “Um no,” he answered.

Jax lowered his head slowly. “You might want to start.” Jason, Jax, and the militiaman formed a triangle around Byron and readied their weapons. The rest of their party was nowhere to be seen but Jason saw the fire was still spreading and fighting sounds were still ringing on the far side of town.

Malcolm walked forward slowly and Jax raised his bow. Malcolm lifted his hands slowly but still held onto his sword, “ho there young man,” he said without a hint of fear in his voice. Jason scrunched his nose with anger and wished he were the one with the bow. He would happily have killed Malcolm then and there even if it meant his own death. Jax didn’t lower his bow but Malcolm continued talking. “Put down you’re weapons and we’ll forget about all this. All we want is the criminal who killed my boys.”

Jason had enough of this farce. “Criminal?” He cried. “You’re the criminal.”

Malcolm smiled. “Oh am I? I’m not the one who murdered two honest hard-working men in cold blood over a few sacks of wool. He did,” Malcolm yelled pointing at Byron, the faintest hint of sorrow etched into his voice. Maybe he isn’t completely heartless, Jason thought, but he still knows Byron wasn’t the killer and would rather punish an innocent man than go without revenge.

“He didn’t kill your sons,” Jason said. Malcolm went stiff and the crowd silenced itself. Everyone stared at Jason including Jax. Behind them even the two men fighting the militiaman paused, backing off to listen.

“What?” Malcolm asked angrily.

“Byron didn’t kill Jeb, Malcolm; or your other son,” Jason repeated.

“How… how you know their names?” Malcolm asked shakily. He forgot about Jax’s arrow pointing at him and raised his sword at Jason.

Jason puffed his chest out. “Not long ago I came through Fallows looking to buy some wool. I met two herders and they sold me a few bags. When I was on my way back to Exton they mugged me, taking all my things including my donkey, and left me for dead on the side of the road.” A few villagers began to mumble in the crowd. More than one let out gasps of surprise.

“Shut up,” Malcolm screamed at the crowd then turned back to Jason. The man began walking towards Jason with his weapon raised. "You bastard..."

“Hold it,” Jax said with an arrow aimed at Malcolm’s throat, “let him finish.”

Malcolm snorted, his face red with anger but stop. His thugs joined him from the crowd but many of the other villagers began to step away from the group. “I had no money so I had no choice but to try and get my things back. It's not my fault they attacked me,” Jason finished hoping he sounded smug enough.

“You bastard,” Malcolm spat. A heavy mass rammed into Jason’s back. He looked back and saw the militiaman had fallen onto him unconscious. Before Jason could push the man off him, the two thugs closed in on Jason and restrained him. Jax was able to get a punch in on one of the thugs before they had him on the ground as well. The villagers let out a victory cry but Jason saw only malice on Malcolm’s face.

The man slowly approached Jason. Malcolm sent a sharp kick to Jason's side and the trader’s vision went hazy. Malcolm crouched down and whispered into Jason’s ear, “my sons should have killed you when they robbed you.” Jason could smell the sour stench of ale on the man's lips. Malcolm spat a thick glob of mucus on Jason’s face then rose up and pointed at Byron, “tie him back to the post. Keep his blindfold off.” A few thugs moved to follow giddy with excitement.

“What are you going to do to him? He didn’t do anything,” Jax squealed as he wiggled beneath the thug pinning him to the ground.

“Oh he couldn’t have done it alone,” Malcolm said with a smile as he gestured towards Jason. “Look at him he’s just a weak peddler, he couldn’t have possibly taken out two grown men alone. He must have had accomplices,” Malcolm said airily.

“No,” Jason screamed and tried to move but the thug’s grip on him was too strong, "they had nothing to do with it. I hadn't even been to Finchead before I killed them."

“I believe all of you helped him do it,” Malcolm continued ignoring Jason. “And as reeve and judge in Fallows, I find you all guilty of murder.”

By then Byron had been tied back to the post, the reeve’s head lobbed to the side like he was a rag doll. “You can’t do this,” Jason yelled but his voice was weak.

Malcolm raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh but I can,” he replied arrogantly. “And I’m going to make you watch as I kill each of them before I finally peel every inch of skin from your body. Then," he said licking his lips, "we're going to light you on fire.” Malcolm turned to face Byron. “I’ll start with this pig,” he said then thrust his sword into Byron’s heart.