CHAPTER EIGHT
Merk stood in the mud, opposite the ten remaining thugs, all facing him nervously. They held before them their crude weapons and looked back and forth from their dead leader to Merk, now all seeming less certain of themselves. As flames burned all around him, black smoke stinging his eyes in waves, Merk remained calm, preparing for the confrontation to come.
“Drop your weapons and run,” Merk said, “and you will live. I won’t offer again.”
One of them, a tall brute with wide shoulders and a scar across his chin, grunted back.
“You’re a proud one, aren’t you?” he said in a thick accent Merk did not understand. “You really think you can take us all?”
“There are still ten of us and one of you,” another called back.
Merk laughed, shaking his head.
“You still don’t understan
