The four men who blocked the road were nothing more than thugs, called in to make up the numbers. Their task was to "block the way if the target tried to escape." As long as they could delay the target until their leader and the main force arrived, their job would be done. Only one among them had ever stabbed someone, while the other three had never seen blood. They could hold their own with weaker opponents, but when faced with someone who dared to fight back, especially a real fight to the death, they were terrified.
Facing the Night's Watch man in black, charging toward them through the darkness with sword raised and a fierce momentum, their morale had already broken before the fight even started.
Clang!
A crisp metallic sound rang out as the thug closest to Aegor ducked and raised his knife to block the first sword strike. His hand went numb from the unfamiliar shock of impact, and the courage he'd gathered from years of bullying the weak instantly drained away. He forgot all about defense, counterattacks, or coordination. He didn't even try to block the second sword, he turned and fled into the darkness.
A fleeing deserter usually becomes the best target, but the remaining three instinctively stepped in to block for him.
The second thug slashed at Aegor, forcing the Night's Watchman to dodge and parry. Then he froze for half a second, wondering if he should also run. But he never got the chance to decide. The pain in Aegor's shoulder kept him sharp, and he showed no mercy. He didn't care who this man was, or whether he deserved death. He only knew that these people had come to kill him tonight and he wasn't ready to die.
Go to hell! That was the only thought running through Aegor's mind as he struck sideways when the man's chest was exposed. Blood splattered across his cheek and the walls of the alley. The wounded man clutched his chest and collapsed, screaming.
One down, two to go. Aegor tensed, preparing for the next round, but found that Jaqen had already taken care of the other two. They were lying motionless on the ground, their condition unknown. Not a drop of blood on him. Truly, a Faceless Man.
The first skirmish ended in mere seconds, but the chaos of the night had only just begun. The two disappeared into the shadows, running deeper into the darkness.
…
"Don't let them get back to their lair! Spread out and cut them off!" the gang leader shouted, looking down at the three thugs lying on the ground. He gritted his teeth, waving his hand with a vicious glare. "Two go this way, two that way. If you see them, don't fight, just shout!"
"Yes!"
"Move faster, don't let that Night's Watchman escape!"
He led four men in the direction the targets had fled. Fury and bloodlust burned in him… but within half a minute, he realized he wasn't hunting the prey anymore. He was the prey.
---
Life is fragile. Killing is easy.
In that first short clash, Aegor's instincts as a soldier were reawakened by the blood on his face. His bloodthirst, buried deep in his bones, surged to the surface under threat of death. Though he had faced real combat before, he didn't panic. This was more than a mile from his home. Hoping to escape blindly was nearly impossible. When ambushed, the worst thing one can do is fall into the enemy's rhythm. He had to kill his way out and break their formation if he wanted to survive.
With that in mind, he and Jaqen hid in a nearby alley. Their black clothing blended into the shadows. After a minute, they ambushed the pursuers and cut them down.
This second wave wasn't much stronger than the first. Their only advantage was using crossbows. But it was a poor choice for the twisting alleys of King's Landing. When Aegor and Jaqen burst from a dark corner in a surprise attack, the fight became another one-sided slaughter.
Aegor's sword slashed down at the man in front. The thug tried to raise his crossbow to block, but the weapon cracked with a sharp snap. Before the sound faded, Aegor's second strike pierced the man's chest. Behind him, the gang leader with two daggers finally reacted, screaming as he lunged forward and forced Aegor to retreat two steps.
This leader was infamous in the Flea Bottom underworld. He had killed dozens, including trained swordsmen. One-on-one, he might have been a match for Aegor. But he had placed too much trust in his underlings and never expected the target's companion to be the best assassin in Braavos. The Faceless Man.
His focus stayed on the "White Walker Slayer" in front of him. So when Jaqen silently knocked out another crossbowman with an elbow and appeared behind him, the gang leader didn't even have time to cry out before his neck was snapped.
In an instant, the top two fighters were down, the third was bleeding out on the ground, and the last two panicked and dropped their weapons, fleeing in terror.
Real combat was nothing like dueling. There were no fancy exchanges, no showy footwork. These attackers were untrained and had no idea how to defend against an ambush. Two of their best fighters had the wrong weapons. Excluding the White Walkers, this was the first time Aegor had killed someone. He had swung his sword only five times that night and taken two lives. As for Jaqen, his blade hadn't even been bloodied, yet he had taken out twice as many.
That seemingly insignificant chess piece they had placed months ago had saved their lives tonight. But the chaos was not yet over. They quickly left the bloody scene and ran several hundred meters in a random direction before stopping.
"They're using crossbows. Slynt has gone mad," Aegor panted, wiping his sword with a cloth. Slynt's madness was his own problem, but Aegor had no intention of dying because of it. "What do we do now? Hide out for the night?"
"I follow your command, my lord," came Jaqen's calm voice from the darkness.
Well, saving him in a critical moment was already a big favor. It was too much to expect Jaqen to also provide strategy. Aegor stood between two buildings, thinking. "If they're ambushing us on the way home, that means my brothers at home are still safe. Slynt might not have the guts to hire a killer directly, but he might use the garrison. We'll go back and gather everyone."
Yesterday, Tyrion had sent ten young men from the outer-city security team to reinforce Aegor. They were part of the guard squad of one of the Night's Watch's two major leaders. Though not seasoned fighters, they could easily deal with a gang of clumsy thugs, as long as the garrison wasn't involved.
Leaving them at the house instead of keeping them close was a serious mistake. But then again, if he had gone out with bodyguards, Slynt would likely have sent more than just a few hired blades.
After circling around for several hundred meters, they finally returned home about half an hour later. On the way, they encountered a City Watch patrol. They hid in the shadows across from their door, observed carefully, and when they saw nothing unusual, dashed across the street and entered the yard.
Home was safe for now. Three newly assigned guards from outside the city were chatting on a stone bench. When they saw Aegor, they immediately rose and saluted.
"Where's your commander? Gather everyone. We can't stay here. We're leaving now."
…
Half a minute later, the group had assembled in the courtyard. Nina was shocked at Aegor's appearance.
"What happened? Is that blood on your face?"
"Not all of it's mine. Slynt got wind of something and set up an ambush. I barely escaped. He'll probably send the garrison next. We need to leave, now."
"At least bandage the wound!"
"I won't die. Stop fussing. Open the door. We're moving!"
As the guard squad filed out, Aegor spotted eight or nine figures across the road. Seeing the fourteen of them emerge, the watchers quickly scattered into the night.
He had escaped, but was still being watched. And another question immediately arose.
"My lord, where are we going?"
Where? The drawbacks of being new to King's Landing became painfully clear. The Night's Watch had three locations in the city, the first and second offices, and the staff residence. All were known and exposed. In this critical moment, Aegor realized he didn't even have a safe house.
Could they just pick a random spot and wait out the night? King's Landing was too crowded. Even the filthiest alleys under bridges were full of beggars and vagrants. There was no such thing as hiding quietly. And he was already being followed by a dozen men. He was just an outsider Night's Watchman. Slightly well-known, perhaps, but far from someone the locals would protect like some guerrilla hero.
His distinct foreign appearance, once a mark of pride, had become a curse. He couldn't hide even if he wanted to.
As for turning to his allies… with Janos Slynt making a desperate play, it wouldn't matter. No one's name would shield him now. Without the strength to resist, any hiding place would be exposed and stormed by the City Watch.
The enemy held command over King's Landing's garrison. At this moment, there was no safe place in the city except the Red Keep. Unfortunately, the royal castle was closed at night. After weighing his options, Aegor made his decision, he needed to get out of the city.
The Iron Gate was closest, but he had just come from that direction. It would be too dangerous to return. After thinking for a while, he decided to head for the next closest, the Mud Gate. Ser Bywater, the "Iron Hand" who commanded the River Gate, was known for his bravery and honor, according to Tyrion. That made him more reliable.
The bustling chaos of Blackwater Port outside the Mud Gate would be a good place to disappear. And from there, he could follow the river upstream to reach his own territory, the Night's Watch Industrial Park.
(To be continued.)
***
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