Camilla gestured to Zade with her hand, signaling him to follow her quietly.
They crossed the street carefully, blending in with the moving crowds of merchants and shoppers. They reached the edge of the dark alley. They pressed their backs flat against the cold brick wall of the building, staying hidden in the shadows, just a few feet away from where the thugs had trapped Allen.
They stood perfectly still and listened closely to the conversation happening in the dark.
Allen was standing with his back pressed hard against the wall. His face was pale, drained of all its healthy color. His hands were shaking violently in front of his chest. He looked terrified.
"Please let me go," Allen was begging the rough men. His voice was high, shaky, and full of panic. He did not sound like a proud noble; he sounded like a frightened child.
The thugs stepped closer. One of them raised a heavy wooden club, tapping it threateningly against the palm of his dirty hand.
Smack. Smack.
