“Our scouts have reported no other hostile forces in the immediate area,” Lord Pytherian tells those assembled in the meeting room.
James and Illan, as well as Brother Willim, are among those gathered to assess the ramifications of the events earlier in the day. They had an informal meeting with Lord Pytherian shortly before where they laid forth their plans to push deeper into the Empire. Thus far, the only one other than those directly associated with James’ group who knows is Lord Pytherian.
“My Lord,” a grey haired officer says as he gets to his feet, “shouldn’t we press our advantage? With the help of Black Hawk and his mage ally, wouldn’t this be the best time to drive out the Empire?”
James notices several heads nod in agreement. For over a year these men have accomplished little to remove the Empire from their lands. Rather, they’ve been pushed back as town after town falls to the enemy. Brothers, sisters, mothers, all have been taken as slaves into the Empire and they feel it’s high time for some good old fashioned retribution.
Lord Pytherian turns his attention to the officer and replies, “Black Hawk and his force will be leaving us in the morning.”
“What?” one young officer cries.
“You can’t be serious!” shouts an older soldier, a member of one of the alliance’s factions from the north. A general murmur spreads throughout the conference room as they comment to those sitting next to them on what they just learned.
Lord Pytherian lets it run its course for a few moments then raises his hand, at which the room becomes silent once more. “He and his force are leaving in the morning, that’s true. However, they will be forging on into the Empire. They plan to cause such mischief as to force the Empire to draw a portion of its army home to deal with them.” Glancing around the room, he sees many heads nod in understanding.
“During which, we will be coordinating with our armies to the east and west,” he continues. “We still have two sizeable forces, one at the base of the Silver Mountains to the west, and another to the southeast. Our success here does not mean victory until we have dealt with those.”
“Wouldn’t it be wiser to consolidate our forces and strike at the force at the base of the Silver Mountains in one fell swoop?” a cavalry officer asks from the back of the room.
“To do that,” explains Lord Pytherian, “we would have to take all but a small force from Lythylla. We dare not risk leaving our capitol open to the enemy. If they were to get wind of it, they could come and raze Lythylla to the ground.”
“So what are we to do?” comes from the side of the room.
“We let Black Hawk do his thing,” he replies. “You’ve all heard of his exploits in the War of Barrowman’s Field. He will do that once again, though this time he doesn’t go alone. James the mage, as well as the brothers of Asran will accompany him.”
“They’ll be slaughtered!” a younger officer hollers out from the side. At that, many of the old timers who had been around during the War of Barrowman’s Field give out with guffaws. “Hardly,” and “Not likely,” are the responses some of the other officers give to the young man. They remember what Black Hawk had accomplished before.
“We let them soften up the enemy,” Lord Pytherian says when the assembled officers quiet down, “then we take the battle to them up here. No reinforcements will be on the way, they’ll be too busy hunting down Black Hawk. There’s no way they’ll allow him to once again roam free, burning and destroying their towns.”
“They have a lot of confidence in our ability,” James comments to Illan who only nods in reply.
For the next several hours, plans are made, changed, then revised again detailing various strategies to be implemented once the effect of Black Hawk’s push into the Empire is felt.
While the meeting is still in full swing, Illan, James, and Brother Willim leave the meeting once it’s clear what is being planned will no longer include them. Brother Willim takes his leave and goes to see about the brother who Miko had healed. He tells them that he and the others will meet them in the morning before they set out.
Back at the plaza, they find the new recruits badly shaken by the death of Orry. He was a favorite, always with a smile and never complained. As they approach the plaza, Devin comes forward. James can see his eyes are red from where he’s been crying over the death of his friend. “James!” he says. “They’re burying the dead in a large communal grave. They came by for Orry but we wouldn’t allow him to be dumped in with all the rest.” He glances up to him. “He deserves better than that.”
“Wrap him in blankets,” Illan says. “We’ll take him with us in the morning and bury him away from town.”
Relieved that Orry will get a decent burial, he says, “Thank you.” Turning away, he returns to the others and let’s them know what they plan to do.
“Fortunes of war,” Illan says after they ride over to where the horses are picketed and dismount. “There’s no way the soldiers here will have time to bury each soldier who died in an individual grave.”
“I understand,” James tells him. “It’s best to get them in the ground as fast as possible.”
Ceadric appears out of one of the tents and makes his way over to them. “So what’s the plan?” he asks.
“Nothing’s changed,” replies James.
“We leave in the morning and play merry hell with the Empire,” adds Illan.
Grinning, he says, “I like that plan.”
“See that everyone has a good night’s sleep,” Illan tells him. “We leave at first light.”
“Yes, sir,” he replies.
Turning to James, Illan says, “You better get some rest too. You look tired.”
“I am tired,” he replies. “But I need to see about the others first.”
“As you will,” says Illan as he gives out with a yawn. “I’m for bed however.”
“Good night,” James says as he makes his way over to where Jiron and Delia are sharing a fire.
When he approaches, Jiron hands him a plate of food. “Thought you might be hungry.”
Taking the offered food, he says, “Thank you, I am.” Sitting next to them, he begins eating the beef stew and Delia hands him a quarter loaf of bread to go with it. Nodding to the slingers preparing Orry’s body for tomorrow, he asks, “How are they doing?”
“As well as can be expected,” Delia replies. “I think before yesterday they thought this would be a grand adventure right out of a bard’s tale. Then when the reality of it hit them, especially the death of Orry…” She trails off as her eyes move to settle on the tent where they are preparing Orry’s body for travel.
“They realized this is no game and war is an ugly, horrible experience,” Jiron finishes for her.
“I’m sure they’ll be okay,” adds Delia, “it’s just rough on them right now.”
James sits there in silence for awhile as he finishes his stew. “We’re still leaving in the morning,” he tells them.
“Then you better get some sleep,” Jiron states.
“I will when I’m done with this,” he replies, indicating the last couple bites of food left on his plate. As he chews the last bite, he glances around the camp and finds everyone winding down, many already asleep in their bedrolls. Devin and the others exit a tent carrying a shrouded body and lay it in the bed of a wagon. When Devin glances his way, James nods.
Standing up, he says, “I better get to sleep too.” To Jiron he adds, “Make sure everyone is up before dawn.”
“Sure,” he replies with a catch in his voice.
James turns to find him grinning at him. Remembering the last time he awakened him, he adds, “No water this time.”
“If you say so,” he says, his grin growing slightly wider.
Shaking his head, James makes his way over to his tent and enters. Things inside aren’t in their usual place, testament to the worry and sadness on Devin’s mind. He didn’t come and tidy up as he usually did. Checking his bedroll on the cot, he finds it still damp so he throws it to the side as he thinks unkind things of Jiron.
Lying on just the cot, he uses a pack for a pillow and lets exhaustion claim him.
Early the next morning, the camp is quickly disassembled and packed on the pack horses. The items James brought from The Ranch were reduced by half during the raid on the catapults and the subsequent battles that followed. Still should have enough for all he plans, he hopes.
Brother Willim shows up with the rest of the Hand shortly before they are ready to leave. The brother who was injured during the battle now looks much improved, a night of sleep, not to mention the healing from Miko, has done wonders. Miko is still absent, no one has seen him since the battle. Word has it that he’s still seeing to the injured, James sent Errin to find him and to have him return before they set out.
The Black Hawk standard bearer takes the lead as they move through the city streets. Near the front of the column rolls the wagon carrying Orry’s body, his friends riding along beside. Behind them comes Jiron and his group, then Ceadric with the Black Hawk Raiders.
“I thought we lost many of your men during the battle?” asks James.
Illan glances behind them at the throng of men at the rear and replies, “We did. These are others who have decided to join us.” He glances to James with a grin, “Seems they want to ride for glory.”
“Glory!” scoffs James. “There’s nothing glorified about what we’re doing. They just want revenge.”
“Maybe,” agrees Illan. “But for whatever reason, we can use them.”
James nods his head and continues riding through town.
The streets are lined with many soldiers and civilians who are there to see them off. Every once in a while, a cheer would erupt when they turn a corner and appear to those who are waiting for them.
At the gates they find Errin with a tired looking Miko. Eyes all but closed with heavy bags under them, he sits on his horse as if he’s about to fall off. When he takes notice approaching, he perks up and rides forward with Errin beside him.
“Found him still among the wounded,” she says. “Had to practically drag him away.”
“Save many did you?” James asks his friend.
From behind them, Lord Pytherian replies, “Many? I would have to say there are a hundred or more who owe either their lives to him or the use of a limb.” He glances to those following behind with the Raiders and adds, “I see many of the ones he saved are among your men.”
“We didn’t ask them to come,” James says apologetically.
“It’s alright,” he says quietly. “You can use the help and another hundred or so here won’t really make that much of a difference.”
“Any reports of the enemy?” Illan asks.
“Not so far Black Hawk,” he replies. “From what our scouts are reporting, the forces to the east and west of us are maintaining their positions. They may not yet know of what transpired here.”
“That won’t last for long,” Jiron says as he comes to join them.
“Just remember you promised to build the temple,” reminds James.
“We will, I assure you,” Lord Pytherian states. “Good luck to you.”
“Thank you,” replies James. “You too.”
Getting their horses moving, they ride toward the open gate. When they pass through, the men on the walls give them a cheer.
As they cross the bridge, they take note of the men still working to remove the dead from the field. The soldiers of the Empire are being heaped together in one big pile while the men of Madoc are laid out more carefully. Far away from the banks of the river, two work forces are digging out large holes for the bodies, one for the Empire and horses, and the other for the men from Madoc and the alliance. Already a stone plaque has been commissioned to memorialize the men who are to be laid to rest there.
Taking the road south, Illan sends out riders to scout ahead and to their flanks for any enemy presence. After Lythylla disappears behind them, they locate a copse of trees near the road and take a momentary break while Orry is laid to rest.
Unwilling to allow others to dig his grave, Devin, Nerrin and the others who were closest to him take shovels and find a spot beneath a large tree. James and Illan stand nearby until they have it deep enough, then watch as his body is transferred from the wagon and laid within the earth.
Once they cover him with dirt and place rocks atop the mound to prevent animals from digging him up, Brother Willim comes forth and says a few words. While he speaks of life and how death is but another path, each reflects upon how Orry enriched their lives and how he will be missed.
Those standing nearby remain quiet in respect for the dead until Brother Willim winds to a close. Then with a last goodbye, they remount and resume their journey. One of the newest additions to Black Hawk’s Raiders is given the duty of taking the wagon back to Lythylla.
From the head of the line, Illan glances back at the rest of the recruits and comments quietly to James, “Wonder if any of us are going to survive this?”
“I don’t know,” he replies. He misses Orry as does the others, though he never really had a chance to get to know him well. Few of the recruits have had much personal dealings with him other than Devin. Glancing back at Corbin’s son, he feels saddened for his loss and can see his emotions are barely kept in check.
He spies Scar and Potbelly riding not too far behind him. “Scar!” he hollers. When he has his attention, he asks, “Didn’t you and Potbelly once face a band of thieves all by yourselves?”
“As a matter of fact,” Scar says, “we did. It was several years ago during…” As Scar continues on with his narration, Illan glances to James and asks, “Have you heard this one before?”
Giving him a grin, he shakes his head and says, “No. But knowing those two, I figured they would have a tale of some sort to go along with it. Besides, this will give everyone something to think about other than Orry.”
Nodding, Illan says, “Good thinking.”
“No, no you got it wrong,” Potbelly interjects. “We weren’t hired by the Baron of Falsberg, it was the Duchess of Twyst.”
“That’s right, now that you remind me,” Scar says. “We were on our way through…” For the next hour or so, they regal everyone with their tale of daring do and for a brief time, the death of their friend is forgotten.
Not to be outdone, Uther and Jorry begin a tale once they’re through of how they single handedly slew some giant that had taken an entire village captive. After listening to the narrative for several minutes, James turns to Illan and asks, “Are there giants here?”
“Not that I’ve heard,” he says. Despite the improbability of their story, it is rather entertaining.
They continue following the road for the rest of the day. The scouts would return periodically to give a report then would switch to a fresh mount and ride off again. During one such time when a scout returns, the scout tells of a caravan approaching from the south. “Looks to be supplies for the army that was at Lythylla,” the scout says. “It is but an hour away.”
“How many soldiers accompany it?” Illan asks.
“Three score,” the scout replies.
“Keep an eye on it,” Illan says. The scout salutes before changing to a fresh horse and gallops back down the road.
“Ceadric!” he hollers.
“Yes, sir,” Ceadric replies as he brings his horse closer.
“We have an approaching caravan,” he tells him. “Three score guards. Take your riders and capture it.”
“Yes, sir!” he says.
Before he rides away, James says, “Don’t kill the drivers.”
“What about the soldiers?” he asks.
“Do what you have to,” he states.
Turning to his Raiders, he says, “We got a caravan to liberate!”
A cheer erupts as he and his men break into a gallop and race down the road.
“So it begins,” James says under his breath as he watches Ceadric and his Raiders disappear down the road.
“Indeed,” comments Illan from beside him.
It isn’t long before they arrive at the captured caravan. Off to one side, a pile of dead Empire soldiers riddled with arrows stands testament to the battle which raged here. Many of Hedry’s archers still have arrows to string as they keep the drivers from attempting to escape. Several wagons are without drivers and the bloodstains on the benches show they didn’t give up easily.
The wagons are filled with food, weapons and supplies needed by an army on the move. A string of horses were also captured, spare mounts for their cavalry.
Ceadric meets them as they arrive and says, “All secured. No losses.”
“Good,” states Illan. “Have some of the men escort the caravan back to Lythylla.”
“Yes, sir,” he says and then begins assigning those new to their force to escort the caravan. Some grumbling arises from those who believe they’ll miss out on the glory of accompanying Black Hawk, but do as they are told.
As the wagons begin rolling back to Lythylla, their force once again resumes their advance on the Empire.
Over the course of the next several days, that scene is repeated three more times as they capture caravans and send them back to Lythylla. After the first day, James was sufficiently recovered from his fight with the creatures that he could again use his mirror to locate enemy patrols. If they weren’t very large, Ceadric and his riders were dispatched to take them out.
During their third day from Lythylla, James locates a force of at least five thousand men heading north, most likely to reinforce the force that used to be at Lythylla.
“Should we take them on?” Jiron asks.
Shaking his head, James says, “That’s not the idea. We are to draw them after us and out of Lythylla, avoiding any direct confrontation with large forces for as long as possible.”
“Besides,” adds Illan, “the force remaining at Lythylla will be able to handle them.”
By the fourth day, any caravans they raid are no longer sent back. Instead, what they need is transferred to their pack animals and the rest is destroyed. Axes are used to chop the wagons apart, the supplies they aren’t taking are destroyed in one manner or another. Nothing is to be left that will be able to aid the Empire. Any civilians with the caravans who aren’t killed in the initial assault are allowed to go free. James simply can’t bring himself to slay innocents. Plus, they’ll begin to spread the word of what they’re doing which is precisely what he wants.
James is surprised at the lack of response from the Empire. He thought there should have been something by now. The only thing he can figure is that the word has yet to reach local officials. Those who they’ve left alive have been on the fringe of the Empire and communications in this world being as they are, it may take awhile before they get word to the powers that be.
On the fifth day as they approach where the old border used to be between Madoc and the Empire, patrols and troops become more frequent. Still they continue as they have, either taking out the enemy should the force prove small, evading it should it prove large. Anything they come across from this point on, if it can be used by the Empire in the war effort, gets destroyed.
During the midafternoon of the fifth day while using his mirror to find enemy patrols, James discovers a fortress to the southwest sitting along the main road running north and south.
“That has to be Al-Ziron,” Illan explains when he informs him what he found. “It’s been guarding the Empire’s border for centuries.”
“I take it that it will have a sizable garrison?” asks James.
“Perhaps,” he replies. “With this no longer being the border, they may not feel it requires many men.” After riding a few more moments in silence, he asks “Do you plan to take it?”
Shaking his head, James replies, “No. It would be too risky. Let Madoc’s soldiers take on the enemy, we’re primarily interested in the country’s infrastructure and its war industry.”
“Then I suggest we skirt more to the east to avoid any possible patrols which may be in the area,” offers Illan.
“Good idea,” he replies.
Later that day when he again checks his mirror for enemies in the surrounding countryside, he spies what looks to be a long supply caravan escorted by several hundred soldiers heading eastward. When he informs Illan, Illan says, “Most likely heading toward the army fighting with the Kirken Federation. How far away are they?”
“A couple miles,” James tells him.
“One last fight before nightfall?” Illan asks.
“We do have numbers and the element of surprise on our side,” replies James.
“I concur,” he agrees then hollers for Ceadric. After a couple minutes for James to show them the supply caravan in his mirror and to work out the battle plan, they alter their course and move to intercept.
Ceadric and most of the riders take off to the north in an attempt to get around them while Illan, James and his people move directly toward them.
“We’re finally going to get in on the fighting?” Jiron asks.
“Yes. There are too many for Ceadric and the Raiders to take by themselves.”
“About time,” Scar says from where he overheard his reply. “Hate just riding along while others get to have all the fun.”
From up ahead one of the scouts they sent to keep an eye on the caravan appears riding quickly toward them. “They’re not much further ahead,” the scout reports as he comes abreast of Illan.
“Does it look like they are aware of our approach?” he asks.
Shaking his head, the scout replies, “No. They’re strung out in a line over a mile long. Most of the accompanying soldiers are at the head of the column, the rest are bringing up the rear.”
“Excellent,” Illan states. To Delia he asks, “How are your slingers on horseback?”
“We’ve done some practice while mounted but they’re not very accurate unless on the ground,” she admits.
He nods his head and wishes he hadn’t sent all of Hedry’s archers with Ceadric, the only ones left are Errin and Aleya. “Who is fairly accurate?” he asks.
“Other than myself, probably Devin, Caleb and Nerrin,” she replies. “The others simply can’t do it.”
“Alright, here’s what we do…”
Jiron and his riders are riding guard on Delia and the other three slingers who are accurate on horseback as they ride quickly toward the enemy caravan. Errin and Aleya ride with them as well, as do Moyil and Terrance, each of whom is bearing a lit torch. They plan to target the center of the caravan where there are the fewest number of soldiers.
The drivers of the enemy wagons take note of their approach as soon as they appear on the horizon. Several draw crossbows and one sounds a horn which summons the riders on either end to their aid.
When Delia comes within sling range of the wagons, she brings the group to a halt. The four slingers wind up their slings and let fly a single oil bomb each. Simultaneously, Errin and Aleya set one of their treated arrows to string, then wait as Moyil and Terrance light them from the torches they’re carrying before sending it after the oil bombs.
Just as the first oil bomb strikes one wagon, Errin’s flaming arrow follows and the wagon erupts in flame. A second later another wagon is struck by Aleya’s arrow and is soon being engulfed by fire. They quickly ready two more arrows and let fly at the remaining two wagons hit by the oil bombs. Crossbow bolts fly toward them but miss their mark, they just aren’t that accurate over long distance.
Once the wagons are burning, Jiron hollers, “Time to go!” From either end of the caravan, riders ride hard to close with the attackers. As one, Jiron and the others turn to race back to where James and the others wait.
Not many were left behind when the raiding party set out. James, Illan, Miko, and the Hand of Asran, as well as the few slingers whose accuracy from horseback was less than desirable, were all that remained.
As they flee from the approaching riders, Jiron and the others see their comrades already in position to ward off the attackers with James and the Hand of Asran stationed in front. As he and the others race around to their rear, a greenish glow surrounds the brothers.
Hundreds of green sprouts rise from the earth before the oncoming horsemen. Growing quickly, they rise three feet or more from the ground, large thorns appear and soon a wall of thorns impedes the path of their pursuers. Some of the horses leap over the barrier, others go around, but the majority comes to an abrupt halt.
Crumph! Crumph!
The ground erupts beneath the riders swinging around the ends of the thorn wall throwing riders and horses into air. Arrows and slugs fly toward those riders who had jumped the wall, felling them rapidly.
Of the dozen or more who had jumped over the barrier, only four continue toward them. Illan and Jiron move to the fore to stop them. Suddenly, a massive apparition appears before the riders. Seven feet tall, green and looking for all the world like a man made of leaves, it spreads its arms wide and lets out with a roar.
The charging horses roll their eyes in fear and rear backward, knocking their riders to the ground. Before the riders even hit the ground, the apparition disappears and Illan and Jiron move forward to engage them.
Over their heads, arrows and slugs continue to fly into the riders moving around the barrier to attack with deadly accuracy. Jiron reaches a rider who’s dazed from his fall and quickly strikes out with a knife, taking him through the throat.
As the dead man falls, he moves on to the next who is already up and in position. Next to him he hears another rider fall from the death blow Illan dealt him as he engages the rider.
The rider strikes out with his sword as Jiron approaches. Sidestepping, he allows the blade to pass next to him. Lashing out with one knife, he catches the rider along one side, leaving a six inch trail of blood across his swordarm.
Jumping back, the rider looks at Jiron in anger. With a cry, he takes his sword in both hands and hacks down with all his might. As the blade descends toward Jiron, he dodges to the side and strikes the descending blade with a knife. At the same time, he lashes out with a foot and knocks the rider off balance. Before the man has a chance to regain his balance, he thrusts with his other knife and slips it through a gap in the armor beneath the ribcage, sinking the blade to the hilt.
With a cry of pain, the rider staggers a couple of steps before dropping to his knees as blood flows from his side. His sword falls from his hand as he topples over and hits the ground where he lies still.
Retrieving his dagger from the fallen man, Jiron looks to find Illan having already dispatched his two.
Horns sound behind the attacking riders announcing the arrival of Ceadric and his bunch. With the odds so much against them, the enemy riders break off the attack and flee.
Hedry’s archers fire at the fleeing riders while riding at a full gallop. Some of their arrows find their marks, but the majority go wide. He divides his men in half, sending each half after the two groups of fleeing riders.
“Wagons secured,” Ceadric reports as he nears.
“Any survivors?” James asks.
“Most of the drivers and about a dozen soldiers,” he replies.
James glances to Illan and nods. “Good,” he says.
To Ceadric, Illan says, “Keep them at the wagons. We’ll wish to interrogate them.”
“Yes, sir,” Ceadric says as he salutes and turns around to head back to the captured wagons.
“Went pretty well,” comments Jiron.
“Yeah it did,” agrees James. “Let’s move to the caravan and see about the prisoners. We need to get out of here before too much longer.”
Illan nods as he says, “I agree.”
As everyone gets under way, James glances to Brother Willim and then nods to the thorn barrier. “Is that going to last awhile?” he asks.
“Maybe,” he replies. “It’s real so it could thrive here if it’s the will of Asran. Though I doubt it, too dry.”
Working their way around the thorn hedge, James, Illan and the rest make their way across the recent field of battle to where a score of Ceadric’s riders guard those who survived their assault. When they arrive, Illan directs Ceadric to have his men gather what supplies they require before destroying the wagons.
Ceadric gives him a ‘Yes, sir,’ then orders two of his junior officers to take care of it.
“Take what rest you can,” Illan announces to the others. “We leave in under an hour.”
While the group from The Ranch dismounts and begins distributing rations among themselves for a quick meal Illan, Ceadric, Jiron and James go to where the prisoners are being held.
The men being guarded are a sad, dejected looking lot. A dozen civilian drivers plus over a score of soldiers sit in a group off to one side. “Sergeant!” Illan barks upon approaching.
One of the soldiers guarding the prisoners steps forward and asks, “Yes, sir?”
“Release the drivers,” he tells him. “Get them out of here and moving on the road north.”
“Yes, sir!” the sergeant replies with a salute and with the help of two other Raiders soon has the drivers free of their bonds and heading down the road. When they don’t move along fast enough, some of the Raiders decide to hurry them a bit with the broad side of their swords.
Illan turns to the remaining soldiers and asks, “Who here understands me?”
The prisoners return blank expressions, all that is except one. A soldier in the center of the group hesitantly says in heavily accented northern, “I can.”
“You know who I am?” he asks.
“You are the Death Hawk,” he replies, venom dripping from his words.
“Death Hawk?” James asks as he turns to Illan.
“That’s the name they gave me,” he says then turns back to their prisoner. A look of stony defiance is set in his face as he stares back to him. “What can you tell me of the defenses at Al-Zynn?” At this time one of the two bands of riders that had set out after the fleeing riders returns.
The soldier simply stares back in silence.
The leader of the band comes to a stop before Illan, snaps him a salute then says, “Got ‘em all.”
“Excellent,” Illan tells him. “Have your men stand down until we leave.”
“Yes, sir,” the rider replies. He gives Illan another salute before he and his riders move to the pack horses to retrieve some food and drink.
Turning back to the prisoner, he asks, “Now, what do you know of Al-Zynn?”
“I’m not telling you anything!” the soldier states defiantly. “Though it’s sure to mean my death, I will never help one who so ravaged the Empire.”
“Al-Zynn?” Jiron asks Ceadric.
“Al-Zynn is a major city that holds the Empire’s stockpile of weapons and supplies for its northern armies,” he explains. “During our last campaign here, we planned on razing it to the ground. But before we could get close enough, the Empire brought in too many forces to defend it and we had to go elsewhere. At the time we didn’t realize it but that marked the beginning of our retreat from the Empire.”
Nodding over to Illan, he adds, “The fact that he wasn’t able to take it has gnawed at him since then. He means to head there and take it before they’re able to bring in sufficient forces to stop us.”
Jiron glances over to James who nods in agreement.
At this time the second band of Raiders shows up from their pursuit of the fleeing Empire riders. The lead rider comes forward at a gallop and says, “Black Hawk! A force of over four score riders may be on the way.”
“What happened?” he asks.
“We gave chase and took down all but half a score when another force appeared. Those we were chasing joined up with them so we returned as fast as we could to give you the news. There were too many for us to effectively deal with.”
“Very well,” he says. To Ceadric Illan says, “Get ready to ride.” After a brief glance to James, he adds, “And kill the prisoners.”
“Yes, sir,” Ceadric says then signals several soldiers to aid him as he draws a knife and begins slitting their prisoner’s throats. The first one he comes to is the man who they were questioning. Taking the prisoner’s hair in one hand, he pulls back the head and cuts his throat before moving on to the next one.
“We’re leaving!” Illan hollers, loud enough to be heard by everyone. “Mount up!”
It takes but a moment for everyone to get in the saddle and when all are ready, Illan leads them with all speed southward.
He was sure he was a dead man when his hair had been pulled back and saw the glint of the knife out of the corner of his eye. Somehow the knife failed to penetrate his throat and missed the jugular. Still bleeding from the cut encircling his throat, the soldier feigns death as Black Hawk and his men ride away.
When the sound of their horses begins to fade away in the distance, he rises to a sitting position and glances around at his comrades. None but he remains alive. Tearing a strip of cloth from the shirt of a dead friend lying nearby, he binds it around his neck to stem the flow of blood from the thankfully shallow cut.
The caravan he was escorting had been on the way to resupply those fighting the Kirkens. They will now be sorely pressed to remain effective without the much needed supplies. Getting to his feet, he stumbles among the bodies in a futile search for another survivor but only manages to reaffirm what he already knew to be true, he alone survived.
Just after he finishes checking the bodies of his comrades, the sound of approaching horses alert him that others are approaching. At first afraid that more of Black Hawk’s men were nearing, he lies down and pretends to be another of the dead. But when the riders draw closer he sees they are from the Empire. Returning to his feet he waves them down.
“What happened here?” the commander in charge of the riders asks. Among those riding behind him, the soldier notices several riders who had been among those guarding the caravan.
“They slew everyone,” he explains. “Somehow, the man who cut me did a poor job.” He lowers the cloth to show the commander his wound.
“How many were there?” the commander asks after taking in the scene.
“Hundreds,” replies the soldier. “But commander!”
The tone in the soldier’s voice causes the commander to turn his attention once more upon him. “Yes?”
“They are planning to take Al-Zynn!”
“Tell me everything,” he commands.