Kael didn't speak. Just watched the last one back away, slowly. Then turn and run
Kael stood there for a moment, breath heavy, side burning where the knife hit the bone. The pain was sharp every second he stood there it felt worse
He looked down at the two on the ground. One was still clutching his stomatch, blood soaking through his coat. The other whimpered, cradling his shoulder like it might fall off if he let it go
Kael didn't feel sorry for them
He stepped forward and kicked the nearest knife away. Then crouched. The first didn't have anything worth taking. The one with the busted shoulder had a sliver coin in his pocket. Kael pocketed it without a word
He took their blades too. Nothing special small knifes with bone handles and dull edges. Not worth much maybe two, three silvers
Kael stood check the alley, empty
He wiped his sword on the clean part of his coat, then limped off into the narrow morning light. Every step pulled at his side he didn't know if the bleeding had stopped, didn't care
He had coin now. Not much, enough for a room or a decent meal. Enough to get him through the day, maybe tomorrow
That would depend on who else came looking
Kael moved slow, keeping one hand pressed to his side. The bleeding had slowed but every step ached
He reached a rust colored door wedged between two boarded windows opening the door
No sign. No name. Just rot and rust
A click. A scrape. The door opened
Inside, it stank of oil and damp wool. The walls were lined with chipped blades, boot daggers, lock picks, and small locked chests. A crooked lantern swung overhead
Behind the counter stood a man in a stained leather apron, gray hair hanging down the sides of his face
Kael pulled the two bone handled knives from his coat and set them on the counter. "Looking to sell."
The man glanced at them, unimpressed. He poked one with a gloved finger. "Ugly steel. Bone's cracked. You bring these out of a grave?"
Kael didn't answer
The man smirked. "Two silvers. For both."
Kael stiffened. "Two each."
The man snorted. "You ain't in shape to haggle. You're leaking. My guess? You need just enough coin to keep your guts in."
Kael didn't move. "Two's an insult."
"Three," the man said flatly. "And that's generous, considering I'm probably buying murder weapons."
Kael stared at him a long moment. Then nodded once. The man pulled three silver coins from a tin under the counter and slid them across. "Don't bleed on the floor."
Kael swept the coins up and turned without a word. Outside, the air felt colder. Still bleeding. But now he had four silvers