It was well past midnight, when the four thanes left the Howling Wolf. Bram, Gorlund, Harlan and Aubry had played a dozen or so round of cards, and emptied more than just a couple pints of beer. The sky was well lit with stars, and the moon was full, so it wasn't a trick to see in the streets.
	Most buildings in Serpentstone were built of wood. They were low and small, built to conserve warmth during the cold wintewr months. The street starting from the Weavers' Gate housed many weavers and other artisans, as one might guess, and it ran quite straight to the castle in the centre of the town. But the four thanes walked in no straight line, to be honest. Gorlund and Harlan had to lean each other to stay upright, while Bram had borrowed a walking stick from the tavern. Only Aubry tried to walk without a support, and it didn't go as well as he thought.
	[i]This would be easier if the street kept still[/i], Bram thought in his mind. [i]Thank the gods the earl isn't here to see me[/i].
	They passed many alleys. Most of them were dark, and that made them good places for cutthroats to ambush them. Never Bram had been robbed or attacked by a thief or a rogue in the dead of night, and he prayed that their streak of good luck would continue.
	But the gods must have slept at the moment. Three figures erupted from an alley, moving lightly and hitting fast with sticks and wooden maces. Bram couldn't react to the attack, as one figure hit him hard to his stomach with a mailed fist. Bram, and his comrades, had been ambushed and struck like green recruits. Bram fell down to the ground, and he could see that Gorlund was been held by one of the attackers. Aubry and Harlan were both on the ground.
	[i]Damn it[/i], ran in Bram's head, as he comtemplated on the situation, feeling the pain and trying to get up. Three had attacked them, but a fourth figure emerged from the alley.