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Levi Lamar had hoped to be out of sight before they noticed the bag was missing. But the woman spotted him and alerted the others. Now it was a foot race.
Normally, leaving this bunch in the dust would have been easy. Levi could run like the wind. But the bag of plunder he stole slowed him down.
There is no way I’m getting out of here with this bag. Where can I stash it?
He considered facing his pursuer. The man had forty pounds on Levi but was older and slower. I bet I can take him.
Even if he couldn’t, he would rather lose a fight than run from one. But were there others? He didn’t want to risk losing the plunder. Decent food was a lot harder to come by here in the high country, and this fruit would keep him supplied for days.
He made it across the meadow and climbed halfway up the ridge before hiding the bag in a dense bush on the steep side above the path.
He took off running northwest along the tree line. Unburdened, Levi could now easily put distance between him and the bruiser, who still lumbered through the meadow.
When he was convinced he had made his escape, Levi turned northward and climbed to the top of the ridge. He would make his way east and drop down to where he’d left the bag.
He looked forward to enjoying the fruit. But even more, he loved the chaos he had caused. It was like kicking an anthill.
What could be more fun than taking things from morons who didn’t deserve them in the first place? The more daring the heist, the more satisfying. Levi still relished his recent score in the city—all that gold from one house. A wide grin parted his lips when he thought of some rich snob arriving home and discovering he was no longer rich.
When Levi thought of his victims, he saw his father, drunk, standing over him after a relentless beating. Levi had never exacted revenge on his father, but now years of suppressed rage exploded on anyone who got in Levi’s way.
A raspy wheeze closed from behind. Before he could turn, a blow to Levi’s head sent him to the dirt. He cursed, rolled, bounced to his feet, and faced the assailant. A young guy, maybe Levi’s age crouched, still holding his club.
“I got ‘im!” he shouted.
Three others quickly arrived, surrounding Levi.
The kid with the stick won’t be a problem, Levi thought, sizing up the situation. The two standing below him probably weren’t much of a threat either. But the one above him looked like a guy who could handle himself.
In a fight, Levi didn’t care about the size of a man’s muscles. What mattered was his ability to take punishment. This fellow looked to be a hard man who worked with his hands. His pockmarked skin and the stubble on his square, grizzled jaw barely hid a jagged scar. The rest of his face was shaded by the brim of a leather hat that had seen better days.
Levi touched the back of his neck where blood soaked his collar. If this fight was going to happen, sooner was better than later. He launched himself toward the two men below. His fist connected with the first, and the man’s nose broke under Levi’s knuckles.
Using his momentum, he tackled the other man. They tumbled partway down the hill and Levi ended up on top. He gave the man one good shot to the face, knocking him out.
His first impulse was to grab a nearby stone and crush the man’s skull. Levi thought nothing of taking a life, but ... not this time.
Levi leaped to his feet. With those two out of the fight, he could focus on the guy with the hat. But he had to get on even ground.
Too late. A stone hard fist pounded Levi with a force that rivaled any punch he had ever taken. And he had taken many. The blow sent Levi tumbling backward down the hill. He grabbed a branch and arrested his fall. In an instant, he was back on his feet, trying not to show his dizziness.
A blow from nowhere cracked the back of his head and he went down. The kid with the stick stood over him. This time Levi couldn’t return to his feet. Through blurred vision, he saw four more men had arrived.
When Levi refocused, the man with the hat stood over him. “You got one last chance, boy. Tell us where the bag is.”
“How should I know where your wife is? Can’t you keep track of the old bag yourself?” The man rewarded Levi’s smart mouth with a boot to the side of his face. Blood filled his mouth.
Merciless pounding followed, and Levi lost consciousness.
*****
A breathless warrior reported to his commander, Adramelech. “The bag is in place. What do you want done with Levi?”
“Let him die. He has served his purpose.”
Levi had stolen hundreds of times before, but he could never have dreamed the sequence of events this theft would put into motion. The world would be changed forever.
Like most people in this world, Levi had been made an unwitting pawn in a war he didn’t know existed. For centuries, an army of warriors from the city battled the forces of the high country. And with the simple placement of a bag of fruit in the high country, Adramelech’s plan commenced.