Chapter Thirteen
Mynowelechw Solishah Cwig
The Nomoi Squad
lla Mæmæn Tqod
The squad of Nomoi soldiers arrived in Hathion Kathuiolké at nine o’clock in the morning. It was a Sunday, and most of the townsfolk were still in their beds. The soldiers marched into town and knocked on the door of the tavern.
“Who is it?” snapped Zhallad.
“Open up in the name of the Emperor!” the Captain replied.
Zhallad opened the door a crack, thinking it was a joke played by one of the other miners. Seeing a Nomoi Captain there, he assumed a humble, snivelling tone of voice and said, “I assume you and your men will want beds? I will go and get them ready for you.”
The Nomoi Captain intoned, “We believe this town to be harbouring fugitives, partisans, and gryphons, and we demand that the townsfolk meet in the town square, while we search the entire village. Once you have finished getting the beds ready we demand that you come down.”
Zhallad went straight inside and told the young Duke to hide in the cellar, then went and got his sword. Meanwhile the soldiers had divided into three groups of three and gone to each house in turn and escorted the men, women and children into the town square, where the Captain and the Lancepesade guarded them.
One of the women, Athelae, whose husband was away, began shouting at the Nomoi soldiers when they approached her house, swearing at them and abusing them. She had just finished renovating her kitchen, and the last thing she wanted was to have the soldiers messing everything up, for she knew that they would not clean up after themselves when they searched her house. They ran her through with a sword, right there, and she died on her doorstep, and after that no-one in the town protested, though the soldiers threw the villagers’ possessions out onto the street and trampled on them under the pretext of searching for partisans and gryphons.
As they were going from house to house, Zhallad was shadowing them. One by one, he pulled the soldiers aside, into the shadows, and slit their throats, then pushed the bodies underneath the houses.
After about twenty minutes only two Nomoi were left alive: the Captain and his Lancepesade, guarding the townsfolk.
And as they stood guarding them, their eyes alighted on the stable that Hinfane had converted into an eyrie. “What is this for? It looks like a stable, but not for horses. Cushions and pots – what are they for? Tell us! Tell us or we will start killing you one by one!”
And Tesed had a stroke of genius at this moment, which many in the town ought to have been grateful for. “Why!” said Tesed, “This is where the horses of Nomoi knights and Mages are stabled. We had a terrible experience recently with an elf-mage who came to our town, for he became very angry with us. We know it was because we did not show him enough hospitality! So we have resolved that the next Nomoi to come to our town would enjoy our country welcome. Come, come into our tavern and eat your fill. Drink as much as you want. Make yourselves comfortable.”
And so the Nomoi Captain and his Lancepesade went to the tavern, where no feast awaited them. Zhallad was there waiting, and he slew both of them before their feet had crossed the tavern threshhold.
And though Zhallad had saved them from the Nomoi, the townsfolk resolved to be more cautious, for many are the towns that were razed to the ground during the long reign of the despotic Aelfynn Nomoi Empire, and many are the souls that were sent to their maker by Nomoi swords.