A faint light bloomed around the edge of the door, where it had warped over time as a lantern approached. Harm could hear heavy footsteps on the wooden floor.

"Who's there?" Pardew called.

Harm could hear the uncertainty in his voice at someone knocking on his back door late at night.

"If it's you kids again, you wait until I speak to your parents."

Harm stilled himself before he spoke quietly.

"Pardew. It's Harm."

"Harm? Harm who?"

"I fixed your fence."

The voice that replied was one of surprise and shock. "Harmonious? Is that you?"

"Yes, Pardew. It's me."

Harm heard a bolt being drawn, and then the door was pulled open. The lantern the man held blinded Harm as he did.

"What on Amathera are you doing here? Have you got a death wish?" Pardew asked, looking past Harm and around him. He looked nervous.

"I came to ask for your help."

Pardew frowned deeply. "What help?"

"I need armour."

Pardew stood silent for a few moments, again glancing around his backyard.

"Come inside. It is too dangerous for you to be seen. You do know there is a bounty on your head after what you are rumoured to have done?" he asked, stepping back and letting Harm inside.

Harm entered the hut, ducking under the door lintel. He was pretty sure he had never had to duck previously when entering a house.

The back room he had entered was obviously Pardew's work area. The walls were covered with shelving and cupboards. Rolls and strips of leather lay everywhere, and a large bench stood in the centre of the room, where a multitude of leather-working tools rested: a half-constructed waterskin, a thick leather-working needle sticking from an unfinished stitch.

Pardew ushered him through the room into a small yet orderly kitchen. The ground floor of the home was mainly taken up by the workspace, a narrow corridor leading to the front door, and the only other room, a small living room situated off the kitchen. A table with two chairs sat in the kitchen, and Pardew placed the lantern on the table, sitting heavily in a chair.

"Please sit," Pardew said.

Harm sat. He wasn't quite sure what to say now that he was here.

"Is it true?" Pardew asked before Harm could gather himself.

"Is what true?"

"Did you kill Dasir and Satil's boy?"

Harm didn't feel guilt, but he still couldn't meet the man's eyes as he replied, "I did."

"Good," Pardew replied, nodding.

That made Harm look up, not the response he had been expecting. He met the old man's gaze, locking eyes for the first time. Pardew wasn't young; he had lived almost a whole life, and Harm doubted he had much time left in the world. 

"Your eyes look different?" Pardew said, staring intently at him. 

Harm looked away again, dropping his head.

"What about Wes and Sister Carol?" Pardew asked.

On hearing the names of those who had been killed because of him, his anger flared. He struck down with his fist on the tabletop. "No. They were my friends. Satil the fucker killed them."

Pardew again nodded his head in understanding. "I thought so. I may be old, but I am not stupid. I have seen enough in this world to know a good soul from a bad one. I know your soul isn't evil. Yet, I believe that Satil's soul has been poisoned. He was never that way as a young man when he first arrived in Sallew."

"I only know what I have experienced from him, and the man has always been after everything for himself."

"That was not always the case. He was once a free-loving young man. I believe it was when his father died that he never got over the grief of his loss."

"That is no excuse for what he has done."

Pardew raised an eyebrow, looking at Harm quizzically. "Is it not grief that affected you?"

Harm stopped, the immediate words he had been about to reply freezing on the tip of his tongue. He took a moment before he answered. "I never killed anyone until they killed my family. I don't do this because of grief alone. This is vengeance, and I will seek redemption for them."

Pardew nodded thoughtfully. "Vengeance is a powerful tool. If you wield it well."

Silence ensued for several minutes. Neither of the men cared to speak as though they were both lost deep in their thoughts. Eventually, Pardew broke the silence.

"Drink?"

Harm looked at him again. "Water would be good."

"Sure," Pardew said, standing. "Anyway, you came to me to talk about armour, didn't you?"

Harm had felt uncannily at ease since entering Pardew's, and it was only when Pardew mentioned the reason for his visit that he again considered his ideas.

"I did. I need to hire an armour smith."

Pardew scoffed. "I'm no armour smith; I am a leather worker who dabbles."

"You can make leather armour, can't you?"

"Well, yes. Of course, I can, but it isn't what I usually create."

"How would you like it to be?"

This time, Pardew looked perplexed. "And how am I supposed to do that? There are a limited number of guards in the town, and most wouldn't even be interested in leather armour, preferring to visit the smithy for chain or plate."

"I don't mean here."

"Where then?"

Harm wasn't sure how this next part of the conversation would go, and out of all the considerations and ideas, this seemed the only feasible one he could come up with.

"I have a clan. I want to take you there, and you become our armourer."

"A clan?" Pardew asked, frowning deeply.

"Yes. Several things have happened since I left Sallew, and the main one is that I am now the chief of a clan that requires armour. There is enough work to keep you busy, not just with armour, but other necessary goods. I would also like you to train some of my clan, if possible?"

Pardew scratched his crown, thinking. The few remaining wispy strands of hair were disturbed, showing his bald pate.

"What about my livelihood?" Pardew said after a pause.

"I will provide everything you need. A roof over your head, meals as needed and enough skins to keep you busy now and into your afterlife. I can also pay you as well." Harm withdrew one of the small uncut emeralds from his inventory, handing it to Pardew.

Pardew's eyes lit up on seeing it, but again, he paused before replying.

"I suppose I have nothing keeping me here, but I would need my tooling and equipment if you wished for leather armour, and I can't carry it all. Nor can you."

"I can deal with that easily enough. If you say you will join us, I can get your items transported."

Pardew raised his eyebrow. "You can, can you?"

"I do," Harm decreed.

"Okay then. I will join you. Since my Angelica passed, I have been lonely out here on the fringe of town. The only time I see anyone is when the kids come and hound me, or I go into town to sell my goods weekly." Harm watched as Pardew twisted the uncut gemstone in his fingers, knowing that wasn't the entire reason for his agreeing to accompany him.

"You won't be short of company at the clan," Harm smiled. The relief he felt from Pardew's answer was immeasurable. He had been worried he would have to end Pardew if he had objected. Not wishing to leave any loose ends about his visit to Sallew.

Dafu. Harm thought after selecting him on his display.

Yes? Dafu replied.

How long would it take you to send a scouting party to the northern edge of Sallew by the track leading to Kartoon? Harm asked.

Normal pace is about four hours. Why?

I have a leatherworker who is willing to join us at the clan and craft armour for us, but I need the party to arrive here within three hours. Send the fastest and fittest we have. I will meet them at the turn before the road splits, heading into town and continuing east.

Three hours? That won't be easy.

I know, but it's already getting late, and by the time they arrive, we'll have collected what's needed and started back; we could still be moving at sunrise.

Alright, give me a minute, and I'll let you know when they leave and who it is, so you can contact them.

Harm suddenly remembered he could only contact his followers. He quickly checked his list before identifying one of the goblins whom he knew well but who hadn't been with his party on the road. They were a hunter and should be able to move quickly. Please ensure that Jaftu leads them; I am unable to contact all of them.

Understood. Dafu replied.

Harm asked Pardew what he would need to take with him, saying that he would get some of his clan here within a few hours to collect it. Pardew was taken aback by the urgency of the information, but started to show Harm what needed to be taken. It wasn't as much as Harm had thought, looking at what he had in his workshop, but he decided that at the age Pardew was, he had probably collected so many tools over the years that he never actually used. 

Dafu contacted Harm. Six are on route. Jaftu is leading them. I have informed them of the urgency and that they have three hours to comply, or they will face your wrath.

Did you have to threaten them? Harm asked.

Only with your wrath. It worked. You should have seen their faces. As Dafu laughed.

I'll contact Jaftu and keep you updated. Harm thought as he dropped the connection, before selecting Jaftu.

The yelp that entered Harm's mind made him wince. 

Jaftu? Harm hissed.

Sorry, Harm. Dafu warned me, but it's a little strange hearing you in my head. Jaftu replied.

That's fine. Please keep me updated as you progress; I will leave this path open to you.

No problem. Jaftu replied.

Fucking hell, I spoke to Harm in my head. Jaftu thought.

Harm let out a chuckle as he listened to the goblin thinking. I can still hear you.

This time, a gulping sound was followed by, Sorry. I don't know how you turn this thing off, whatever it is you're doing.

I'll silence it on my end, don't worry. Harm replied as he muted Jaftu's thoughts.

"What is funny?" Pardew asked.

"Sorry. I was talking to my clan members. I will explain how another time. What do you wish to take with you? Clothes and such?" Harm asked.

Pardew frowned at Harm's comment, but his follow-up question had distracted him enough as he started listing other items he would like to take. 

It was fortunate that Harm's inventory was virtually empty because, not long after, it was full of various wares that Pardew wanted to take. Harm had tried to talk Pardew out of taking some of them, but he hadn't budged, quoting sentimental value. They moved the items Pardew wanted into one pile. This took time as he worked meticulously through even more tooling, reconsidering what he might need again, until the pile grew, no longer the slight amount he had initially thought. It was only after the tooling was laid out that Harm grabbed a large leather backpack and packed as much as he could into it. He then collected other backpacks that Pardew had made and did the same. There was a large pack and four other medium-sized backpacks, all bulging with equipment, by the time they finished.

Harm was glad he had packed it, as it stopped Pardew from revisiting the tools he had collected and swapping items out.

"How far is the clan?" Pardew asked.

"Four hours at a fast walk," Harm replied, doubting that Pardew could do anywhere near that speed. That consideration suddenly struck Harm as he realised that Pardew might indeed be much slower, and the last thing he needed was for Pardew to be still moving in the open areas before the hills and forest as the sun rose.

"Now we have everything you need; we should make a move," Harm said. "We don't want to get caught in the daylight."

"Now. I thought we would leave in the morning?”

“No, we must go now. It’s too risky for me to be here in the morning.”

Pardew looked pensive for several moments before he replied. “Okay. I will grab my jacket," Pardew replied as he went back upstairs to his bedroom, grabbing a few more items and stuffing them into the small pack he had, before he donned his jacket.

"I will come back for the rest with the others once we get you away from here," Harm said, lifting the largest backpack.

Harm opened the rear door and stepped out into the cool breeze of the night. The clouds had accumulated, providing extra darkness while he was inside, and he hadn't taken a lantern; instead, he had left a candle burning inside the property, so he could navigate back to it more easily. The pair of them set off across the garden and over the fence.

"I feel like I am going on an adventure," Pardew said in a youthful tone.

Harm chuckled as the old man accompanied him towards the approaching clan members. It shouldn't take them too long now to reach the meeting place.

The night air was thick with the scent of damp grass and distant woodsmoke as Harm led Pardew away from Sallew. The old man moved more slowly than Harm had hoped, his breathing already laboured from the brisk pace.

“Give me that pack,” Harm said to the old man.

Pardew frowned before shrugging and removing the small pack from his back. Harm grabbed it in his hand, carrying it.

Jaftu, where are you? Harm thought, keeping the connection open.

Close. We see a split in the road ahead.

Good. We’re approaching from the west. Stay hidden until I signal.

Pardew stumbled over an unseen root, cursing under his breath. Harm steadied him with his free hand.

"You okay?"

"Just old bones," Pardew grumbled. "Not used to skulking about in the dark like a thief."

"You are no thief," Harm said, grinning. "Although Satil will call you a traitor by morning."

Pardew snorted. "Let him. That bastard owes me for years of screwing me over with the leather prices and his inflated taxes."

A low whistle cut through the night—Jaftu’s signal. Harm responded with a sharp click of his tongue. Shadows detached from the treeline ahead: six goblins, their yellow eyes glinting in the weak moonlight.

Pardew stiffened, his voice several octaves higher than before. "Those are—"

"My clan," Harm said firmly. "They won’t harm you."

Jaftu slunk forward, bowing his head. "Harm. We came as fast as we could, like Dafu ordered."

"Good. This is Pardew. He’s joining us. Pardew's home is the first as you approach town along the main path. You can't miss it. I left a candle burning by the rear window," Harm said. "The rest of you go with Jaftu to the house. Grab everything left inside, tools, hides, whatever fits. But be quick. If anyone spots you, run."

Jaftu nodded, already motioning to the others. The goblins darted off toward Pardew’s home. Harm led Pardew to the tree line before finding an area to sit.

"We'll wait here for them to return," Harm said.

Pardew had watched the goblins move off with wary fascination. "You’ve got them well-trained."

"They’re not dogs," Harm scowled. "They’re beings just like you or me. Smarter than most in Sallew, if you ask me."

Pardew didn’t argue, just raised his eyebrows in surprise. The beings of Freealis were so used to the goblins being classified as unintelligent nuisances that, for Pardew, it must have appeared strange.

Harm kept checking towards town; they had travelled no more than twenty minutes away with Pardew's slower pace. It shouldn't take the group long to get there and back. They sat in silence, waiting for their return.

Then it happened.

A distant cry in the night, it was faint and wistful, only just reaching them.

Harm froze. "Did you hear that?"

"I didn't hear a thing," Pardew replied, tension in his words.

This time the sound came clearer than before.

Pardew paled. "Shit. That's the night watch. They blow the horn if they spot trouble."

Harm’s pulse spiked. The others. He reached out mentally, searching for Jaftu.

Jaftu? Answer me.

Silence.

Damn it.

We're coming. Jaftu's thoughts suddenly replied. Griku knocked a damn barrel of tacks over. His only explanation before silence again.

Harm hesitated. If the guards had spotted them, it might already be too late. But if they’d just been seen fleeing because of the noise drawing the guards’ attention?

Jaftu, have you been seen?

Silence.

Jaftu, answer me, dammit.

Still no response.

Harm heard them before he saw them. Dark, hunched forms sprinted across the open ground towards where they were hidden.

The goblins rushed into the treeline and, on seeing Harm, came to a stop, gasping for breath.

"Where's Jaftu?" Harm asked, seeing he wasn't with them.

Griku, who had knocked the barrel over, still gasping from the heavy pack he carried, and the speed they had fled, spoke quietly in response. "He led them away. Towards the plains."

"What?" Harm said, his temper immediately rising.

"He ordered us to return to you. Said getting the gear back was more important than anything else."

"Because you alerted the guard," Harm growled.

"It was an accident," Griku replied, his face paling under Harm's steely gaze. "There was a barrel on the bench full of nails or something."

Harm remembered seeing the barrel full of tacks that had been positioned on the edge of one of the workbenches.

"How did you manage to knock it off?" Harm growled.

"When I threw the pack on," Griku said, dropping his head in shame.

"Damn it," Harm cursed.

He stared out over the fields. He could see nothing from here; they were too far away from the town. His hand twitched as he considered calling Florence into his grip.

"Fuck. We keep moving," Harm said eventually.

Pardew had been staring at Harm with a shocked expression. Harm suddenly realised he must have been talking in Goblin tongue.

"We need to go," Harm said.

Pardew grabbed his arm. "They’ll search my place. Find it empty. They’ll know I’m missing."

"Then we’d better not be here when they come looking," Harm said grimly.

A sudden caw split the air. Jessie swooped down, landing on Harm’s shoulder. Her talons dug in urgently.

"What is it?" Harm asked. "You saw something?"

Jessie grabbed with her claws harder, pricking through his tunic. She didn’t caw this time, but she seized his hair in her beak and yanked, as if to say, Move!

Harm stared back over the fields, and then he saw it, a glimmer of a lantern bobbing in the distance. 

Harm didn’t need words to understand. "Run."

They bolted—goblins flanking, Pardew wheezing behind. They pushed through the underbrush before breaking out again into a meadow, the tall grasses swaying in the night's breeze. With the extra weight the goblins were all carrying and Pardew's age, they weren't moving very quickly at all.

The horn blast cut through the night, its sound sending a chill through Harm's bones.

It was too close. It cut the night air in two as the cries of voices were carried toward them.

Then, a sound Harm dreaded followed the horn blast. The baying of a hound.

Harm cursed. Of course, Satil would have tracking dogs. He spun, scanning the dark. No time to hide. No time to fight.

Only one choice.

"Take Pardew and go! Head for the clan—don’t stop!" Harm said as they reached the next treeline, passing the backpacks over to the others.

Griku grabbed Pardew’s arm, dragging him forward. The old man gasped but didn’t resist as the goblins surged ahead.

Harm knelt as he equipped his armour and called Florence to his hand. He was positioned now in the thick underbrush just inside the treeline. The tall trees creaked ominously as he stared into the night.

Jessie took flight, heading up into the branches above.

The hound bayed again, and the voices of the guards were much nearer.

Harm smiled, a twisted smile. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. The hound would soon pick up his scent. Let them come.

Death, death, glorious death, the god's voice cackled maniacally.

Death was coming one way or another.