It wasn't a matter of emotion. It never was. It was simple calculations. The unfolding of events according to others, and his own practical considerations. Nothing else factored in.
The son died because he got in the way of the first man he came to: the target. The target died next, because that's what he was, and out of the three left on the roof - man, woman, infant - he presented the biggest threat. He proved that a moment later by swinging at Konrad.
Didn't help, but he proved the point. So he died. Then there were the other two. Wailing and sobbing and Konrad didn't try or wait for or feel anything in his soul yanking him back from the path.
This was what he did, and he was being well-paid for it.
THUNK
Konrad's jaw nearly dropped as he saw the arrow smack into the brickwork a few feet from his head. Exactly like the one that wounded the guard. Same feathers, same grain of wood... same archer, across the way.
He felt rage before he even thought to be afraid. The woman cringed away from him, though his head snapped around to Alex's hidden post. The boy was notching another arrow. He didn't know, but he had to assume. Fucking stupid kid. Either they were trying to kill him or they were getting soft or fuck it, it didn't matter, they were the enemy, and he needed a-
Shield. One he won't risk shooting at.
“Konrad. You’ve done the job. Time to go.”
Randall stomped up the stairs, armor and weapons adding weight and iron to his steps, and found Konrad jerking up the sobbing woman by the wrist with his free hand. He was carful to come at her from the side, darting low, keeping her swirling dress and stout form in front of him and the direction the arrow had come from.
The scarred sellsword looked at the older man and smiled, but it was all teeth and no warmth. That was coming from the warm body pressed to his side now, held tight there with his arm, the hand of which was holding his kukri just under her throat.
The other was on the head of the baby.
"Was that an order, old man? Sounded like an order." He spat to the side and the gob sailed through the empty air before splatting down on the still, cooling corpse of one of the sellswords. "Don't reckon I like that. An' I don't think yer quite right, either."
“Mason’s dead…Unfortunately the son too. We’ve a small window before someone gets here.”
The kukri twitched in his hand. Enough to make the woman whimper.
"Time enough to finish the job, then. What did I tell you, old man? What were my words. Everyone. Everyone in our way, everyone inside. Those were the rules. You agreed to them. So you don't get t'grow a fuckin conscience now." He grinned. "Aint that right, Eyes?"
Randall felt the slight but definite dig of a blade in his back before the last word hit the breeze. The stink of a mouth that had never seen soap, speaking close to his ear.
"Youse were taking a while, Kon. Thought I'd have a look."
"Glad yeh did," Konrad said, smile only growing as he peered over the woman's head and nodded at his father. "Hope yer boy can see this, old man. Hope he knows what happens if he's stupid enough to let that arrow fly."
The baby wailed. The woman sobbed, and prayed, and the noise was so petching annoying Konrad wanted to pitch her off the roof on general principle. But no, better to back down the old man, then kill him and scarper off the roof before the kid got over his shock. More than enough time-
Or... something else.
"You want them?" He nodded down at the woman he was using as a shield, and the tiny life she held close. "Fine. New split. One hundred-" he pointed at himself, then at Randall "-zero. That sound good to you?"
The son died because he got in the way of the first man he came to: the target. The target died next, because that's what he was, and out of the three left on the roof - man, woman, infant - he presented the biggest threat. He proved that a moment later by swinging at Konrad.
Didn't help, but he proved the point. So he died. Then there were the other two. Wailing and sobbing and Konrad didn't try or wait for or feel anything in his soul yanking him back from the path.
This was what he did, and he was being well-paid for it.
THUNK
Konrad's jaw nearly dropped as he saw the arrow smack into the brickwork a few feet from his head. Exactly like the one that wounded the guard. Same feathers, same grain of wood... same archer, across the way.
He felt rage before he even thought to be afraid. The woman cringed away from him, though his head snapped around to Alex's hidden post. The boy was notching another arrow. He didn't know, but he had to assume. Fucking stupid kid. Either they were trying to kill him or they were getting soft or fuck it, it didn't matter, they were the enemy, and he needed a-
Shield. One he won't risk shooting at.
“Konrad. You’ve done the job. Time to go.”
Randall stomped up the stairs, armor and weapons adding weight and iron to his steps, and found Konrad jerking up the sobbing woman by the wrist with his free hand. He was carful to come at her from the side, darting low, keeping her swirling dress and stout form in front of him and the direction the arrow had come from.
The scarred sellsword looked at the older man and smiled, but it was all teeth and no warmth. That was coming from the warm body pressed to his side now, held tight there with his arm, the hand of which was holding his kukri just under her throat.
The other was on the head of the baby.
"Was that an order, old man? Sounded like an order." He spat to the side and the gob sailed through the empty air before splatting down on the still, cooling corpse of one of the sellswords. "Don't reckon I like that. An' I don't think yer quite right, either."
“Mason’s dead…Unfortunately the son too. We’ve a small window before someone gets here.”
The kukri twitched in his hand. Enough to make the woman whimper.
"Time enough to finish the job, then. What did I tell you, old man? What were my words. Everyone. Everyone in our way, everyone inside. Those were the rules. You agreed to them. So you don't get t'grow a fuckin conscience now." He grinned. "Aint that right, Eyes?"
Randall felt the slight but definite dig of a blade in his back before the last word hit the breeze. The stink of a mouth that had never seen soap, speaking close to his ear.
"Youse were taking a while, Kon. Thought I'd have a look."
"Glad yeh did," Konrad said, smile only growing as he peered over the woman's head and nodded at his father. "Hope yer boy can see this, old man. Hope he knows what happens if he's stupid enough to let that arrow fly."
The baby wailed. The woman sobbed, and prayed, and the noise was so petching annoying Konrad wanted to pitch her off the roof on general principle. But no, better to back down the old man, then kill him and scarper off the roof before the kid got over his shock. More than enough time-
Or... something else.
"You want them?" He nodded down at the woman he was using as a shield, and the tiny life she held close. "Fine. New split. One hundred-" he pointed at himself, then at Randall "-zero. That sound good to you?"
