Roads of the Righteous and the Rotten (Order of Fire Book 1) by Kameron A. Williams

blind—and six pieces of gold may be all this man has. And if it is nothing, I wonder why you wish so much to have it?”
    Zar’s right hand remained on his sword hilt, gripping it firmly as the four dismounted soldiers moved in closer. The two guards threatening the man pushed him to the dirt and moved towards Zar with their swords raised. Zar had no idea if these men were any good with their blades, but if they were, with this many of them, he could not allow them to surround him.
    He had to attack them now, unless he was going to use another tactic to scatter them.
    “You may have stumbled upon the wrong company today,” said the commander as his men gathered closer around Zar.
    Zar took a few steps back, holding out his left hand before him, his right arm still raised over his shoulder, gripping his sword hilt.
    “Wait!” he said sincerely, and the advancers seemed to slow a bit. “Don’t be fools!”
    The company of men glanced at one another before one of them let out a snarl.
    “I am not alone!” said Zar, once again sounding sincere. His left arm was still stretched out and his gaze fixed on the commander.
    “He lies! He tries to trick you!” the man retorted.
    “This is no trick!” said Zar quickly, barely giving the man a chance to finish. “You may be of the royal guard, but considering your corruption, I’d say my word is worth just as much as yours—no, more.”
    The men halted their advance, more uncertain with each word he spoke, and Zar continued to retreat, still holding out his warning hand with his other ready to draw his sword in case the company grew tired of his charade and decided to rush forward.
    He stepped back a few more paces and rested his back against a large tree. “Me and my three companions were resting at the edge of this dell when I heard noises—”
    “ Three companions?” said the commander, chuckling.
    “Well, if it’s only four of you, I think we’ll take our chances.”
    “Three archers,” Zar insisted. “Expert marksmen, I daresay.”
    “Archers?” one of the Snowguards questioned, failing to hide the concern in his voice.
    “If they fear that I’m in danger, they will come running,” Zar continued. “You won’t even know where the arrows are coming from.”
    The commander’s face no longer held a smirk. “This man lies. There is no one.”
    No sooner had he uttered those words than Zar called out, “Asha! Asha!”
    The company held still and Zar called out yet again. The wood was quiet, and the men held perfectly still as if they were indeed waiting and listening to see if Zar had allies. One guard said it was nonsense as he lifted his sword and took a step closer to Zar. Another voiced he believed the archers were real, which is why Zar had been so confident in challenging them. “Think about it,” he said, “he would never talk like that to us if he was alone.”
    “Shall we wait a bit longer for your allies?” the set commander taunted. A few members of the set chuckled while others looked quietly about the tress, but Zar kept his gaze on their leader. He watched the man’s face and witnessed the bend of his smile even out as the thicket began to move, rocking and bending as something tried to make it into the dell—and the sounds of rustling vines and snapping twigs became louder.
    “They’re coming!” one said quickly, looking to his commander for instruction.
    It wouldn’t be long before Zar’s friend came into sight, so he shouted out a command he was certain would put his plan into action.
    “Shoot them!” he yelled, drawing his sword from over his shoulder.
    The gathering of men in front of him broke as they all darted off in different directions, one of them yelling “Take cover!” as he went.
    The guard that stood the closest to Zar tried to hide himself behind the nearest tree. Zar followed.
    The man had barely reached his refuge behind a large blackwood when Zar leapt towards him. Zar’s blade split leather and mail and