Death Flag

  Alyanna gasped. “Why didn’t anyone mention this while we were on our way south? Surely, our scouts must have picked up on it.”

  “It would be hard not to,” Warren admitted. “They might have noticed and just not reported while you were around. Not to sound rude, but it was more likely that they would report to your father or brother or the captain of the guard when they were tending to business rather than in someplace you might be. It’s also possible that you just missed hearing it or weren’t paying attention.”

  “It’s also possible that they didn’t have any need to report it,” Shayna snorted. “If what Burke said was right, they might not have wanted to. Seems like this entire thing is one giant set up to me.”

  “I’m of the tendency to agree,” Madison added. “There’s no way to know what they were thinking. If what Warren is saying is true, however, that means there’s no way for us to really know how many are out here or why. I think it’s safe to assume that it isn’t just about me or Lord Fox any longer.”

  “You don’t think they’re looking for Kyer Utane, do you?” Alyanna asked suddenly. “Could they have somehow figured out that it’s in the region?”

  “It’s possible,” Warren answered. “There’s really no way for us to know.”

  “Sure, there is,” Shayna chimed in. “We just have to catch one of them and make him tell us what they’re doing out here.”

  “Catch one?” Alyanna asked, turning her nose up in disgust. “You mean take one captive?”

  “Yeah,” Madison said, liking the suggestion. “I think that’s actually a good idea. Can you tell us how far we are behind the closest group, Warren?”

  “Not too far, actually. That was another reason that I stopped us here. We would probably make contact with their rear scouts if we moved ahead at the same rate for another hour or so. The tracks I’ve been following for most of the day are really fresh.” As if to prove a point, he pointed to an indention in the ground with the toe of his boot and poked at it until it was dug out and plainly obvious.

  “Alright. Well, let’s take the time and get something to eat while we can,” Madison said, walking over to a nearby fallen log and sitting down. “Anyone have any idea what time it is? Or how long before nightfall?”

  “Should be sometime in the middle of the afternoon about now,” Warren answered back, also taking a seat on the log beside Madison. “Night will come early because of the trees, but it’s not officially for a few hours yet. What are you planning?”

  Madison removed the uneaten leftovers from breakfast and passed them around to everyone who seemed interested. Making a meal off the same thing twice in a day wasn’t the best option in the world, but he was determined to stretch the rations for as long as he could since he didn’t know when they’d be able to resupply.

  “When I was with them before,” Madison answered as he took a large bite out of a waffle, “they set up camp pretty early at night. The slaves were strung together, hobbled, and then tied in a line and shackled to the cart so that none of them could take off during the night. The guards took up position close to the camp, likely because of the dense fog that night, and they didn’t seem willing to move until later in the morning when the fog began to dissipate. It’s going to be hard to get to one of them and do it silently, but I think we can pull it off. Plus, I don’t think we really have much choice at this point. We have to figure out why so many are moving through this region. If they actually do know about K’yer Utane, we need to send someone back with that information. That’s not a possibility that Burke mentioned to us. There’s also a chance they might already have Fox captive, right? There’s no way for you to distinguish between their tracks at this point, is there?”

  “No,” Warren said, shaking his head. “There’s really not.”

  “I say we hit them a few hours after dark,” Madison advised. “Any slaves they have with them will pass out as soon as they hit the ground. They aren’t exactly well fed, so they won’t have a ton of energy to use sitting around and chatting.”

  “You want a full out attack?” Alyanna asked, clearly uncertain. “Is it really worth all that?”

  “I won’t know the answer to that until we have one of them back where we can question him,” Madison replied gravely. “But it might be. I think it’s worth the risk. I think there’s something else going on here, something major, and I want to find out what it is. Remember what Burke said? There’s a chance these guys are actually working for someone from K’yer Utane and not just after Lord Fox on their own. We need to find out as much information as we can. Otherwise, we’re just charging in blindly.”

  “You have a point,” Alyanna consented, “but what are we going to do if a fight breaks out? We aren’t equipped to deal with any sort of armed resistance. We don’t have any armor, no one has a weapon aside from Shayna, and we’re practically defenseless.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Warren said. He held out his hand, and a bow materialized there. It was simply fashioned without any ornamentation or design but was sturdy looking and durable. Thinking back, it was the same one that Madison had seen him with when they first met.

  “Okay, so we have a bow. That’s two out of five. That means the rest of us are still unarmed. There’s no way we can take an entire camp. We might be able to fool them if it was only one or two, but not an entire group,” she said certainly, clearly not convinced.

  Truthfully, Madison had his doubts as well, though he would never voice them after suggesting that they go through with it. He had fared well enough on his own without a weapon before, but there was no guarantee that he could pull off a repeat performance. A single wrong move and that would mean the end of them all.

  “I’ll go in alone,” Madison said. “I’ll go in alone, knock the first guard I come to unconscious, and drag him out.”

  Erin reached over and lightly punched him in the shoulder, leaving Madison with the impression that she wasn’t too keen on the idea of him going in alone.

  “Wait a minute,” Warren interjected. “Why are we ignoring the fact that we might actually be able to pick up one of the rear scouts?”

  “Because they likely haven’t posted any,” Madison responded. “We don’t even know if they’re there or not. Judging by the numbers you mentioned, I’m willing to bet that they feel fairly safe around here. They have the numbers for security, and they know the region. If no one has bothered to give them any trouble in the last month or so, they aren’t going to be looking for it now.”

  “Fair enough,” Warren agreed, sighing heavily. “I guess it can’t be helped then.” He swapped his bow to his opposite hand and then reached out toward Madison with his now-empty hand. A moment later, a long, two-handed sword materialized there in his grasp, pointed blade-down toward the ground. “Burke said you’d probably need this sooner rather than later,” he offered by way of explanation when Madison looked at him curiously. “He wanted us to avoid a fight if we could, but he wanted you to be ready just in case.”

  Madison took the sword from him and hefted it appreciatively. It had a good balance to it, and unlike the practice blade that he had taken from Ryder’s training room, this one felt like it had real weight behind it. He stood up and stepped forward as he swung around, moving from one form to another as he tested it out. Satisfied, he nodded and turned back to the others. “It feels good,” he said happily.

  Warren materialized a simple short sword and passed it to Alyanna and nodded to Erin, who magicked up a two-handed staff that was almost as tall as she was.

  “Seriously?” Shayna asked as she watched the staff appear. “You’ve been carrying that around this entire time? And you never said anything.”

  Erin grinned wickedly and whacked Shayna in the center of the head before her sister could reach.

  “Ow!” Shayna exclaimed, grabbing the spot. “What was that for?”

  Erin didn’t respond but grinned happily, looking very much like the cat who had gotten the cream.

>   “Any other surprises in that bag of yours?” Madison asked curiously, eyeing the small box strapped to Warren’s belt.

  “Yes,” he said, doing a horrible job of concealing a self-satisfied grin. “But those will have to wait until later. Burke also said you have to earn it first.”

  Madison raised an eyebrow, refusing to believe he had heard that correctly. “No way. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope,” Warren said shaking his head. “Anyway, we’ve got a little time to kill, so why don’t we go ahead and move up closer. If we’re lucky, we’ll run into a scout. If not, we’ll follow through with your plan.”

  “You mean no one is going to argue with letting me go in alone?” Madison asked, slightly shocked. He had expected them to put up some sort of objection at the least, not simply roll over and let him do as he wanted.

  “You’ve made up your mind, haven’t you?” Shayna asked. “So, there’s no real point in telling you anything else.”

  “She’s right,” Alyanna agreed. “Once you make up your mind, you’re stuck.”

  Erin reached over and punched his shoulder again.

  “Wait a minute! When did you girls decide to get together and gang up on me?!” Madison cried. “Not fair!”

  -----

  It turned out that his prediction had been correct after all: they never found a rear scout. Whether it was because of complacency or a false sense of security, the band of slavers they were following hadn’t posted any sort of rear guard. In a way, Madison was thankful for the fact that they hadn’t. It would have made his job a lot easier if he had been able to snag someone without having to sneak into the camp, but that would have likely alerted them to the fact that someone—or something—was poaching their members. That would have set them on the defensive, and if the man they captured didn’t have the information that Madison needed, it would have made things all the more difficult for him in the future.

  Just as he remembered, and just as Warren predicted, nightfall came much sooner than it would have normally. The group had rested for a while longer before setting out at a much slower pace than the one they had maintained for most of the day. No one was too anxious to overtake the slavers during the daylight hours when they were awake and alert, so they crept along at a snail’s pace. Warren had been kind enough to produce a type of sheath that Madison could use to strap the two-handed sword to his back, although Madison had been outright tempted to just summon it from his magical inventory whenever he needed it. He didn’t know how reliable the magical system was during battle or in a clutch situation, but it certainly materialized fast enough whenever he called it out or stowed it away—which was remarkable, since based on his memory, the sword was several times larger than the actual footlocker had been before it was shrunk down to its current diminutive size.

  “Alright,” Madison whispered to everyone. “It’s time.” He made sure his voice was just loud enough to be heard and not carry. Based on Warren’s scouting, the slavers had set up camp in almost exactly the same formation as what Madison had described earlier. There was a single man on watch forward of the camp, and six men were positioned around the cart with two slaves shackled to the rear. So, in all, seven men and two slaves if it came down to a fight. It was just shy of two-to-one odds, depending on who the captives chose to help. He had positioned his own small group behind the closest thing to cover he could find. They were crouched down behind the upturned roots of a massive, fallen tree just south of the slaver’s encampment, which is where they would wait until Madison either returned with a prisoner of his own or they had to rush in and save him. “Remember: Don’t move and don’t make a sound until you have to. I want to avoid a fight if at all possible. Our goal is to find Lord Fox, not to deal with these guys. We wouldn’t even be wasting our time doing this right now if there was a possibility that Fox made it through unhindered.”

  When everyone nodded their understanding, he turned and started slowly walking away. he checked his sword one last time to make sure that it would draw cleanly if he had to use it and then sank into a low crouch, quickly moving forward as stealthily as possible. The forest floor was carpeted in soft leaves and mud and moss, and he stuck to the wet places as often as he could. He didn’t like the fact that it left footprints behind that could be followed, but he figured that it was a better option than noisily crunching through the leaves and alerting everyone to the fact that he was sneaking into the camp.

  Since he was approaching from the south side of the camp, he expected to make it all the way into the center before anyone spotted him. Unfortunately, Warren’s report didn’t turn out to be entirely accurate. Either someone had moved since the camp was originally scouted or Warren missed someone entirely, but either way, Madison almost stumbled over a sleeping man’s body before he even realized it was there. He froze, the tip of his toe just inches away from the man’s prone figure.

  Two different scenarios quickly ran through his head as panic began to build in the pit of his stomach. He might be able to take this man hostage and back out before anyone else knew that Madison was there. He was far enough away from the others that it shouldn’t be a problem, and they might not even hear the ruckus if there was a small struggle. There was also a good chance, however, that anyone sleeping this far out wouldn’t know what he needed. No one worth their salt would be ostracized and forced to sleep on the edge of the camp. There was never a form of punishment or social stigma that jeopardized everyone’s lives by ousting someone with valuable information. That was the same reason they had decided not to try taking the northern guard—he likely wouldn’t know anything. Anyone who had all the information would be protected somewhere near the center.

  Madison gritted his teeth and made a split-second decision. He slowly crouched down until he was beside the sleeping figure and studied the man’s belt. Spying exactly what he was looking for, he positioned his hand over the handle of a rather long knife that was fastened at the man’s side. Then, in one swift movement, he simultaneously slammed his fist down into the man’s windpipe while drawing the knife from its sheath at the same time with is opposite hand. He didn’t just want to take the weapon away from its owner: he wanted to use it. The sleeping man tried to bolt upright, and he just managed to suck in a mouthful of air, but the knife slammed down into the man’s eye socket and into his brain a half-second after it was drawn.

  Madison leaned forward and pressed his hands over the man’s mouth to muffle any sounds he might make while using his weight to hold the man to the ground. The body spasmed one or two times, its legs twitching wildly, and then fell still. Madison held his breath as he waited. Finally, after counting to one-hundred in an agonizingly slow fashion, he backed off and sank down onto his heels in a crouched position, silently letting out a long breath. He reached forward and jerked the knife free from the man’s skull in a single movement and then swapped it to his right hand before creeping forward once again. He had waited as long as he could possibly stand it, straining his ears for any sign of movement from the camp or the guards. Thankfully, the sleeping man had been far enough away from the others that the small movements he made dying hadn’t alerted anyone to the fact that Madison was there.

  He stopped at the edge of the small clearing they had made camp in and surveyed the scene rather quickly. It appeared that everything else about Warren’s report was accurate. There were three guards on either side of the camp rolled up in bedrolls and two captives shackled to the back of a wooden cart, so that much was correct. He didn’t spy any errant bodies anywhere, so he had to assume that the man he had just killed was a random fluke. When he was confident that there wasn’t anyone else, he crept over to one of the bedrolls on the right-hand side. It was slightly closer to the center of the camp than the rest, but it was also the smallest there by far. Without any sort of information to go, he was just going to pick the smallest he could find—the one he could carry the fastest and the easiest without making much noise.

  He gin
gerly stepped around the legs of a slave and flipped the knife so that the blade was pointed up, and pulled his hand back for a blow that was aimed at where man’s head should be inside the roll. If Madison was lucky, a single, quick strike with the handle would render his target unconscious, and he’d be making his way out of the camp in half a minute’s time. Just as he was about to strike down, however, he felt something kick him in the calf. The sleeping slave had rolled over in his sleep, and upon striking Madison, he woke up.

  He sat up half-asleep and instantly spied Madison, poised to take out his target. “W-What are you doing?!” he cried, trying to kick his legs and push away from Madison. He wasn’t going to make it far because of the way his legs were hobbled together, but he made a ton of noise doing it. “H-Help!” he shouted. “HELP!”

  Madison instinctively turned and hurled the knife at the screaming man without even thinking. The weapon covered the short distance in an instant, sinking into the man’s chest with a heavy thunk. The man’s scream instantly stopped, only to be replaced with the sounds of his body hitting the ground and harsh wheezing as the dying man tried to breathe.

  All around him, bodies began to turn over and sit up in their bedrolls. Madison heard the jangle of chains as the other slave woke up and moved around, and the clamor of pans rattling together as someone on the cart woke up.

  “Shut up!” a coarse voice yelled back at the captive.

  “What are you going on about?” another asked harshly.

  “He’s dead!” a voice wailed from just beside Madison. “He’s dead! He’s dead!”

  “Damn it,” Madison swore under his breath, deciding to give up on stealth altogether. He shoved himself to his feet and pulled the sword off of his back in the same motion. It was free from its scabbard by the time he was fully upright, and a moment later, he reversed the blade and slammed it down into the midsection of the man at his feet with all of his strength. He heaved up on the blade and then jammed it down a second time for good measure, and he was rewarded by the feeling of solid ground as the blade pierced straight through the man’s stomach.