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Perrilin is scheduled to begin his performance in an hour so they settle in and eat a light meal of roast lamb and bread. As they eat, the crowd coming to hear Perrilin play begins to arrive. Many of the faces are familiar from the night before. The buzz of conversation within the Wallowing Swine gradually grows as more and more of the tables begin to be filled.

By the time Perrilin makes his appearance, all the tables are filled. The proprietor has even placed stools and chairs against the walls to accommodate the number of people who showed up. “Would have to be a crowd tonight wouldn’t it,” Jiron states.

“Yes,” replies James.

Finally, the noise at the rear of the common room increases as Perrilin makes his way from the back to the stage where he places his instrument on its stand. Again, he puts the time-worn wooden bowl on the stage then returns to the back. The crowd murmurs in delighted anticipation as they know this means that he is about to come and perform.

Several minutes later, Perrilin exits from the back and applause follows him all the way to the stage. Taking up his instrument, he turns back toward the crowd and an expectant hush descends onto the common room. Then he strums the strings and launches into a rollicking ballad full of daring-do and love.

He’s into the third stanza when he sees James and gives him a brief grin and a nod. James returns it. Glancing around the common room, he sees how much the people are enjoying the music, and it saddens him how they’ll react to what they’re about to do.

The two slavers keep casting glances to him and Jiron. Whether the looks are telling them to get on with it or whether simply because they don’t like them, it’s hard to tell. Whatever the reason, James decidedly doesn’t care for it.

For two and a half hours they sit there in the common room while Perrilin performs. When he leaves on his second break and heads to the kitchen, James locks eyes with the others positioned in the room and nods his head. They return the nod knowing the time has come.

“You ready?” he asks Jiron.

“Yes,” he replies with a glance to the door leading into the kitchen. “When he’s on his way back.”

“Right,” agrees James.

Just then, one of the two slavers gets to his feet and begins walking toward their table. “Not now,” whispers James to himself. Jiron hears him and sees the man coming toward them.

Then the murmur in the back of the room suddenly swells as Perrilin exits from the kitchen. He pauses a moment to exchange words with a man at one of the tables.

The slaver is almost to them when he’s bumped into from the side. Ale splashes all across his front as the man who bumped into him loses control of his cup. “Sorry about that,” Reilin says in a manner that suggests he’s entirely too drunk to be walking around. Using his hands, he tries to brush off the liquid that is beginning to soak into the slaver’s clothes.

By this time, Perrilin has finished his conversation and is heading toward the stage.

“Fool!” the slaver says as he knocks Reilin’s hands away.

“I’m truly sorry about this, sir,” Reilin says then places his left arm around the man’s neck and begins laughing. Those nearby who have been observing him and the slaver chuckle at the sight.

When Perrilin moves adjacent to their table, James and Jiron get to their feet. James gives Perrilin a greeting and holds out his right hand.

“Get off me you idiot!” the slaver yells and pushes Reilin away.

Stumbling backward, Reilin hits the edge of a table with his leg and crashes into a man and woman.

Perrilin stops and takes James’ hand to shake it with a glance over to where Reilin is now laying across the two people’s laps. Then from behind him, Scar jumps up and grabs him around the chest just as James grips his hand hard and stretches his arm across the table.

Jiron produces a hatchet from out of his cloak that acquired earlier for just this moment and raises it high. Bringing it down hard, he severs the hand from the arm.

Perrilin cries out as blood spurts forth