The Long Night’s Sin

The southward shift of the sun’s direct rays made the winter nights in Ostrava long and cold.

Tonight was the third night since Noren had successfully captured the white fox and returned to Ostrava.

Outside the estate—a manor that, counting farmland and buildings, spanned seven hundred acres—a group of uninvited guests lurked in the woods, braving the biting wind.

They didn’t light a campfire, afraid of alerting the village.

Fifty pairs of eyes glowed in the darkness. Unlike the malnourished medieval serfs, they didn’t suffer from night blindness. Seeing in the dark was a must for every archer. Though without firelight their range was limited, at least they could see each other.

From the darkness, a pair of eyes asked, “Is it true? That hunter?”

“Checked this morning. Had one of the lads disguise himself as a refugee and ask around the village about the hunter,” someone replied.

“Wasn’t that too obvious? Asking directly if a hunter came to the village?”

“Ha—of course not. Paul’s a veteran of disguise. Used to hang around the slums of Prague. He never reveals his identity or purpose when gathering info.” Moonlight filtered through layers of fir needles, illuminating the man’s chin, revealing a rather hard jawline.

“But Ram, do we really have to massacre the village?” Another voice.

Others chimed in: “Yeah, Ram! No need!”

“Didn’t some of our light infantry brothers come through here before to ‘collect taxes’? Weren’t they all killed? Bodies were burned…”

“And this village’s knight is about to be elevated to baron. If we do this…”

The eyes in the dark murmured back and forth, their morale dropping.

“Shh—” A finger pressed against the hard chin, then gently touched his lips. “Careful, they’ll hear us.”

The eyes fell silent.

Jaw said, “Let me ask you: who will confer the baron title for this village?”

“The Duke?”

A shadow flickered in the dark, and the next moment the questioner cried out in pain: “Ow! My head!”

“Idiot! Have you forgotten whose army we march with? It’s Jaromir!”

Jaw tilted sideways; he couldn’t believe how stupid these guys were. He coaxed them: “Have you forgotten the dispute between Jaromir and His Grace the Duke? Don’t forget—we are the Duke’s soldiers! We take the Duke’s pay, eat the Duke’s rations, sleep in the Duke’s… ahem!” The jaw suddenly clenched a fist in front of his mouth and coughed into it. “My meaning… you should all understand. Since some of our brothers couldn’t keep their pants on and let that old man escape, I won’t pursue it now. But as compensation for the mistake, those brothers who fucked up must attack the knight’s manor.”

“Why!” A discordant voice sounded. “Ram, you’re not our boss!”

“But the boss was already executed by Wood. Someone has to lead the brothers, right?”

“…” The voice fell silent for a long while, then retorted, “I don’t accept it.”

“What don’t you accept?”

“You all went to the village to grab loot, leaving me and a few brothers to guard the prisoners.”

Ram shot back mercilessly: “Was it me who told you to keep the prisoners? Wasn’t it some of you greedy bastards wanting to squeeze out more money? Let me ask you—did you dig up any silver coins in the end? Probably just a bunch of furs and mountain goods, right?”

“I…” The voice stammered.

Ram couldn’t be bothered to argue further. He waved his hand: “If those few of you don’t want to face a knight skilled in martial arts… it’s not impossible. Let’s raffle it. You gamblers must have dice on you. Hand them over. The ones with the smallest pips go.”

“And if we all roll the highest?”

“Then we keep rolling. Nine out of ten roll five, one rolls six; the nine who rolled five re-roll. We’ll waste time, but some brothers still have to go against the knight here.” Ram laid out the rules.

“I’m not rolling. The ones who messed up should go!”

“Yeah! The ones who messed up!”

The eyes in the dark reopened. None of them wanted to be picked to go against the knight—even if the knight wasn’t mounted and didn’t hold a lance, with his sharp blade and astonishing martial prowess, these archers had no desire to clash head-on.

(PS: Some might say archers are tough guys—they are indeed tough—but their training focused on archery, not close combat. Against a few serfs they could hold their own with short swords, but against a knight skilled in sword, shield, and lance… that’s asking too much. Remember, the knight is also a tough guy. When both are tough, it comes down to who’s better in melee. Moreover, flesh is flesh; archers only wore light armor with low protection. A one-handed sword could still slice through light armor and flesh at extremely tricky angles.)

Ram made the final call: “It’s settled. You, you, you, you, and you! You five go to the knight’s manor on the hill. The rest… spread out through the village.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Plan…” Ram thought briefly. “Same as always. Do it like we did with ‘Ludgeřovice.’ First, sneak into positions around the village. Then set one house on fire. When the villagers and the knight come out to see the fire, you just give them a precise backstab!”

With that, Ram stepped back, his chin vanishing into shadow. The eyes all closed, disappearing entirely.

Only a faint whisper lingered—

“Now… let’s begin… this night of sin…”

****

“Oh! Oh! You’re so strong!” From inside the room came the sounds of a brawl—flesh hitting flesh, each punch sending ripples across skin.

Outside the door, a silhouette—slender and balanced overall—was peeping.

Ah~ Noren was peeping again at her father and aunt. It wasn’t the first time she listened in. These two always practiced martial arts in the dead of night—what people called “extra training.”

As the saying goes: “No windfall makes a man rich; no night feed makes a horse fat.” Wasn’t the Stone Monkey himself sneaking techniques from Patriarch Bodhi in the dead of night?

So don’t misunderstand. Noren was just trying to learn some of the advanced skills her dad and aunt normally wouldn’t teach.

As for whether she’d ever use them, who cares?

She’d just treat it like watching a hardcore action movie!

“Goddammit, you keep me awake every night with your noise. Don’t blame me for stealing your moves!” Noren opened one eye wide, peering through the gap in the door at the faint light inside.

She was watching with great interest when—

“Fire!”

“Thump!” She stumbled, her arm hitting the doorframe with a soft noise.

“Who!” A man’s startled cry came from inside.

Noren’s breath caught. She felt the world around her slow down… well, not felt—it actually slowed.

That is, her neural reflexes sped up.

Whenever her mind tightened, she entered a state of accelerated thinking, colloquially known as bullet time.

In the next instant, her tense latissimus dorsi suddenly relaxed. Noren steadied her emotions and said as calmly as possible: “Dad, there’s a fire in the village.”

“Nor… mmm!” Her aunt started to speak, but her father clamped his hand over her mouth.

“Noren? When did you get here?” Svein asked calmly.

“When? What are you talking about? Ha… yawn…” Noren pretended to yawn, putting on a sleepy voice.

Svein’s voice continued from inside: “Didn’t you say bandits might attack the village? Should you put on your armor before you go check the fire?”

Noren’s heart skipped. Why didn’t I think of that! Bandits! Right! Bandits!

The girl quickly ran upstairs. She had to dry the White Tiger first, so she wouldn’t face the enemy with a wet pet.

Hearing his daughter’s rapid footsteps creaking on the wooden floor, Svein let out a long sigh. Noren wasn’t the only one nervous—he was too.

Anna stroked her brother’s developed pecs: “Good big brother, so clever, sending Noren away so quickly…”

Svein’s lower back ached a bit. He grimaced: “Maybe we should stop…”

“Hmm?” The beautiful woman widened her eyes, glaring fiercely at the man.

It wasn’t intimidating, but it was utterly lethal!

Svein swallowed and corrected himself: “Never mind, it’s just a small fire. Noren will handle it.”

Suddenly, Svein understood what it meant to “hard to resist a beauty’s favor.” He waved his arm, and the fur bedcover flew up, sucking them both into the bed’s seal…