Headed by a Snake

Chapter 217 Earning Their Pay

?The red-bearded Decanus, Ferrutius, wore a shite-eating grin.

He had news that Tycondrius wanted and it seemed the lesser man wanted to lord it over him. It was a cheeky attempt at payback for the man's earlier loss.

"What's on your mind, Decanus?" Tycon asked, "If you're lonely, I'm told that my man, Modestus, sells his services for 2 silver."

"Prices were raised, Decanus Zehr," Old man Modestus grinned, "3 slugs for that one-- and that's for a kiss on the cheek."

"3 silver? Those prices are criminal, Brother-Immortal. That's almost a whole loaf of bread." Tycon wore a look of feigned shock, "Perhaps we, Decani, can lobby for a discount on account of Ferrutius' green eyes."

Modestus waved his hands, "Can't do that, Decanus. I've got a family to feed... Now, if he had blue eyes like Gianna, I could bring it back down to 2."

Gianna, hiding in the brush a few fulms away, let out a gasp. She popped her head up, pouting, "Munifex Modestus, are you telling me you'd charge me for a kiss on the cheek?"

"Nonsense, Miss Gianna," Modestus reassured her. "If I could earn a kiss on the cheek from you, I could die a happy man."

"And what about that family of yours, Modestus? And what I'm assuming is a wife?" Gianna teased.

"Right. I'd die a happy man because my wife would kill me," Modestus shrugged.

Ferrutius grimaced.

Tycon tapped the man's armored chest, "Speak your mind, Brother-Decanus."

"Let's trade tent groups, Zehr. I think I'd rather have yours."

Tycon shook his head, "Modestus isn't for sale, Brother-Decanus, only for rent."

"You honor me, Decanus," Modestus chuckled, causing his belly to shake.

"Indeed." Decanus Ferrutius chuckled, "You're a Flame-scarred thief, Brother-Decanus. Anyroad... we're all in place, pila and crossbows, hidden around."

A Tyrion horn sounded in the distance.

"And that?" Tycon raised an eyebrow.

Ferrutius's smirk widened back into his wide grin, "That would be the 4-man team I sent to lure some of our kobold friends in."

...

Munifex Justus kept on one knee, waiting patiently. They had done plenty of waiting, but the adrenaline and anxiety for real combat frayed his nerves.

Zehr sighed and turned to him with a smile. Justus smiled back, feeling his mouth twitch. It was like the Decanus could read his nervousness like chalk scrawled on a wall.

"Having doubts, Munifex?" He spoke in a quiet voice.

Stealth was paramount, but according to the volume of the decoy team's horn, they were still some distance away.

Justus took in a deep breath. Talking would calm him down a bit. He responded to the Decanus, keeping his volume as low as he could, "Why is the scout team only 4? Half a tent group? Doesn't that reduce their survivability?"

"The Iredar only attack if they have a numerical advantage. I chose 4 as a good number to bait a 9-dog patrol," Zehr continued to slowly scan the surroundings, not facing Justus directly.

Justus squinted his eyes to observe the forest, but still found nothing of interest, "They're like dogs, right? Won't they... smell us, when they get closer?"

"Rena," Zehr muttered. "It appears Munifex Justus has judged your ambush position wanting."

Justus heard the sound of something low-crawling in the dirt beside him. He heard a light jingle of coin as that 'something' took his wallet.

He turned to glare at Rena, who had just lifted his hard-earned coin.

"What do you think you're doing?" Justus whispered as angrily as he could.

"The doggos won't smell us, dummy. We're downwind." The archer-turned-thief, removed a gold piece and bit into it, "Ooh, real gold. I'm taking this because you're stupid."

Justus snatched his wallet back, then the saliva-covered coin.

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry for doubting you," He whispered.

Zehr narrowed his golden eyes, "They'll be here shortly. Get to the kneeling, you two."

Justus stared hard at the location the Decanus was looking at intently. He glanced at his archer companion. She too was still moving her eyes, scanning for enemies.

...Decanus Zehr could see better than an Archer class? Justus realized that he didn't know what class Zehr had. The man could grapple better than a Fighter. He could sprint faster than a Scout. He knew the kobolds as well as a Sage. And he'd just learned that he could see further than an Archer.

Zehr was introduced to their tent-group as a Bronze-Rank Warrior. The notion was criminal. But Justus couldn't understand why he would lie. If he was an Iron-Rank or a higher Tier Class, he would have been inducted as a Decanus or better and with the pay to match. Besides that, he would have been assigned to the First Cohort and not the Second...

Was Zehr an enemy? No, that made no sense, either. The Decanus had been trying his damnedest to save as many men and women as he could.

Rena quietly steadied her crossbow on her knee and aimed down the sights, through the brush.

She had spotted something.

Justus slowed his breathing and focused.

It didn't take long for three runners in leather armor to come into view. Justus wasn't a learned man, but he knew the difference between three and four.

Flame take those kobold bastards.

The runners ran past the trio, none the wiser to their presence. He felt stupid for doubting Rena's choice of ambush point.

That's when Justus saw them. There were eight of them, blue-furred dog-men the size of 6-year-old children. They ran on both their arms and hind legs, but were weighed down by piecemeal metal armor, weapons and shields strapped to their backs.

A chill ran down Justus' spine, seeing their speed. He glanced over to Zehr's confident smile. The Decanus wasn't joking when he said the scouts would earn their pay for the month with a measly run.

"Remain calm." Decanus Zehr pointed, "Archers first."

Justus nodded, gripping his pilum tight. He had nearly forgotten.

Zehr lifted one of his pila to rest atop his shoulder and Justus did the same with his.

The kobolds were within range.

In a smooth and silent motion, Zehr stood, judged the distance, and hurled his spear.