by T J Trapp
“Halloo,” Alec shouted.
No answer.
“We come in greeting, with no harm intended for your village,” Erin called out.
“Go away,” shouted a booming voice from within the walls. “We are poor, and we have nothing to offer you, weary travelers though you may be. Leave us alone!”
“What of hospitality? Do you have none to offer travelers in these lands?” Erin cried.
“We wish you well, but we cannot open our gates for anyone,” the voice answered.
“Wait, I know that voice!” Alec said to Erin.
“Harl, my friend, is that you?” he called.
There was a brief silence, then a bit of scuffling noises, and then a head popped cautiously over the village wall and looked out at them.
“Alec, Erin, my friends – do my eyes deceive me?” the man shouted in delight. “It is indeed I, Harl, your friend and servant! What brings you to these forsaken plains?” He looked past Erin’s small party to the riders making camp in the distance. “And with such an impressive force,” he added.
“Our mission is not one to be bandied over fences, but we come in peace to your town,” Erin answered.
With that, the village gate slid open, and Harl trotted out to greet them.
“Welcome! Welcome, my friends!” There were bear hugs and back slaps all around, and then Harl hustled them through the gate into the safety of the village walls. “Welcome to our humble village! I’m sorry for the reception but times are so troubled now that we are afraid of our shadows. We will gladly offer you our hospitality!” Harl gestured towards the Theland riders setting up camp on the open plain. “But I am afraid that we cannot accommodate a large force such as yours.”
“That is all right,” said Erin. “My riders are set for the evening. But let us hear your tale since we parted, and then we will be on our way.” They entered the village, crossing the square where Alec had seen such carnage. It was now in good repair – no signs of the past bloodshed – and the village looked prosperous.
Alec looked about for a certain inquisitive youngster and soon spotted him.
“Ilave! Come here!” said Alec. The boy approached hesitantly until he recognized Alec, and then came with a bound.
“You came back!” he said, joyfully, and jumped onto Alec in greeting.
“I did, and I see you carried out my instructions to keep the village safe until your people returned!” Alec set the boy back on his feet and tousled his hair playfully. With that, Ilave beamed.
Ilave took them to meet his parents and his older brother. Alec remembered his conversation with them after he had rescued them from the slavers, and was pleased to see that the older boy also had survived the raid. Now they offered the hospitality of their humble home, but Harl interrupted and insisted that they eat with Lily and him.
Erin and Alec shared a simple dinner with Harl and Lily in their cottage. Erin was especially glad to see Lily; they had become close friends during their time traveling together.
“You’ve taken up with Harl, I see,” Erin said to her out of earshot of the men.
Lily giggled. “I’m still with him,” she said. “Not ready yet to make a permanent commitment and consort with him, but that may come soon.” Erin could see that they clearly were compatible, and Lily was happy. Erin shared the details of her consorting with Alec as they bustled about setting food and drink on the small table.
“After you left us, many of the good folks that you freed chose to stay here, and the remaining villagers took us all in,” Harl told Alec. “Then they asked me to stay on as the Village Marshal. Of course, I had to agree! I was the best choice around!” Harl roared with cheerful laughter, and Alec soon joined in. “Me and my Lieutenant, my sweet Lily, we’ve been here ever since. This is home now.” Harl looked at Lily and winked at her, and she smiled back. “Life is difficult out there on the Grasslands,” Harl continued, “because of all the marauding bands. Besides the Gryz, and the other nomad tribes, we have to contend with the Aldermen.”
“Are they still taking slaves?” Alec asked.
“Well, if they catch you, they’ll make you into a slave, if they don’t just kill you first. But,” he added, spreading his hands expansively, “they haven’t sent another slaver force through this country since you were here. That’s a good thing! I guess they got enough folks to carry out whatever they are doing.” He stabbed his bread into the gravy on his plate. “But, every once in awhile an Alder scout patrol comes around. You have to avoid them because they either capture or kill any folks they encounter.” He filled Alec’s cup.
“And you? What brings you back out here?” he asked, turning to his guest.
Erin gave an abbreviated version of their story, mentioning only that they were disrupting Alder caravans at the behest of General Mawn. Neither Alec nor Erin mentioned their encounter with the peddler-man to Lily. After dinner and more conversation, they thanked Harl and Lily for their hospitality and after hugs and promises to come back; they returned to their troops’ camp for the night.
✽✽✽
Erin and Alec had reached a decision point. Although they were on the Grasslands to carry out General Mawn’s assignment, Erin’s riders did not know that their leaders were using this as a cover for their true mission: to search for Alec’s lost medallion. Erin and Alec had decided that the search for the missing medallion could best be carried out by the two of them without the encumbrance of the full complement of riders. They felt that they could sense and avoid the Alder scout patrols and defend themselves if necessary.
They discussed their plan to split up with Ferd and Thom.
“It will be easier for us to find what we need to defeat the Aldermen,” Erin told her lead riders. “The Wizard can better use his wizardry if there are not so many riders around.”
“This is a bad idea, My Princess,” Ferd said. “You are placing yourselves in grave peril.”
“There are still many caravans crossing these plains, supplying the Alder,” Erin calmly replied. “I need you to continue as you have been: find the caravans and raid them.” You also will be pulling the Alder scouts away from us, Erin thought.
Erin and Alec separated from the Theland riders and made their way around the rises and falls of the undulating grasslands, an extra trogus to carry supplies in tow. Backtracking from Ilave’s village, they were certain they were in the correct general area. With a little work and some help from Erin’s ring, they found the ragged path they had been traversing when the Alder first captured them. Unfortunately, there were many els along the trail where the encounter could have taken place.
Alec knew he could not feel a second medallion if he wore his medallion or carried his staff, but he would be able to feel a medallion from about seven or eight paces away if all other medallions were more than fifty arns from him. They previously had developed a search strategy and Alec practiced the skills he would need. Erin would hide Alec’s medallion, and he would practice sensing the medallion in order to find it. Now they perfected their routine. First Erin would feel for Alder riders. Then she would take Alec’s medallion, his staff, both their trogus and the pack trogus away from the search area. Alec would crisscross the area in a search pattern to try to sense his old medallion.
On the afternoon of the third day, they were covering their last search area for the afternoon. Erin could sense that there were two groups of Alder scout patrols within a couple of els, but neither was heading in their direction. They decided it would be safe to complete their search while Erin continued to sense the groups.
Alec left his medallion and staff with Erin and started to walk the area. It was a relatively large area; Erin couldn’t tell if it was right or not. It looked like what she remembered, but everything looked similar on these plains. In their days of searching they had not found any remains of their ruined clothing or other debris from their capture to give them a lead.
Alec had walked to the far side of the search area when Erin became c
oncerned. A group of about a dozen Alder riders had changed directions and were moving towards Alec’s position. Erin started to edge her animals towards Alec in case they needed to regroup.
Then disaster struck. One of the distant trogus stepped on a prairie-skarn. The skarn hissed and spooked the trogus; the animal threw its rider and bolted in the direction of Alec. Two of the Aldermen took off at full gallop after the beast.
Alec, we have a problem! Erin thought. They are going to top that far ridge in a few moments and see you. A lone walker on the Grasslands would be an easy target for mounted riders.
Alec ducked down in the tall grass hoping to cover his location. Erin had the animals in a little draw; they would be hard to spot.
That crazed trogus is heading straight toward Alec, she thought. If it doesn’t kill him, the riders certainly will.
If Alec had either his medallion or his staff, it wouldn’t be a problem, but without them, he had little chance. The Alder would assume a lone figure was a deserter and wouldn’t give him a second look if they found him. They would aim their trogus towards him and let them chomp him in two. Erin had to do something.
“I am leaving your staff here! Make your way here and get it, and then come to help me. I am going to distract them!” she called out to Alec.
She mounted her trogus and rode out toward the approaching trio. The spooked trogus saw her and steered to the right. She turned to the right also. The two riders saw her and headed toward her, calling the other scouts to join them. Erin took her animal another hundred arns away from Alec. She drew her sword and slowed slightly so the two riders could start to catch her. They gained on her until they were almost abreast of her. She jerked her animal around, startling the riders. The first one tried to pull up, and that gave Erin time to bring her sword around and slash a deep gash in his side. She turned her mount and didn’t see the rider fall off in pain.
She wheeled her trogus towards the second rider. He was coming straight at her. She angled her animal to one side. The two heavy trogus crashed into each other in a mass of teeth and claws. Erin jumped clear of the melee. The two trogus locked in mortal combat for dominance. They would fight until one was victorious and the other dead. The Alder rider was caught in the struggle between the two beasts and shredded as an incidental casualty of the fight.
Erin turned and sprinted towards the third trogus. It had stopped about one hundred arns away. She was less than a third of the way to the animal when she could tell she wouldn’t make it in time. The other Alder riders were galloping down on her and would reach the animal before her. She looked around to find Alec. She could see him running as fast as he could in the tall grass.
Too far away to help me, she thought. I am on my own for this one.
She headed for a slight draw that would give her some cover from the galloping beasts. The first Alderman came charging down on her. She sidestepped his pike and raked her sword across the back leg of his trogus. It reacted in anger and bolted upright. The Alder came sliding down; as he fell she slashed his throat.
Three down, she thought.
Then she backed into the draw. The other Alder scouts came up to the top of the draw and looked down at her. They dismounted from their beasts. Nine more, she thought. Five drew swords. Four of them held catch-pole pikes, and one also held a net.
They think to capture me, she thought. We will see. She looked at the catch-pole pikes. They were very effective weapons for team fighting. They looked roughly like Alec’s staff with a sharp point on one end and a large curved hook on the other end that could be used to catch a foot or an arm and bring a fleeing slave under control.
One of the Aldermen stepped down into the draw. Erin launched toward him with fury. He raised his sword and parried her, but she was too quick, and he lay on the ground, blood freeing flowing. The others were warier now that she had taken out one of their comrades.
The other Aldermen came into the draw on all sides of her. She could see that they planned to surround her and approach from her blind side. She launched an attack in one direction. The fighter retreated to let the others close in behind her. She kept launching attacks in different directions to keep them at bay. It was working, but it was tiring her and not stressing them at all.
When I am exhausted they will take me at their leisure, she realized. She tried to change her plan and flank them. They just let their circle flow with her changing direction.
She heard a swoosh from behind and saw something descend over her head.
That accursed net, she thought, remembering how she had been captured in one before. She slashed at it, but it came down over her. Not again! she despaired. Then she felt a hot spot on her breast: Alec’s medallion!
Despite repeated tries under Alec’s tutelage, she was not proficient in using dark energy; but she could do a few rudimentary things.
Focus. The net changed to a collection of loose fibers raining down on her. The net-throwers rope flopped toward her. She grabbed the rope and pulled. The net-man was not expecting that and lost his balance, crashing into the swordsman beside him. Erin jumped towards the men, slashing with her sword – and the two were down. Now she was outside of their ring. She cut across the hamstring of one of the catch-pole holders. Then she was one-on-one with a swordsman. The others were struggling to come around the bodies of the downed scouts and surround her again. The swordsman tried to back away but was blocked by the edge of the draw. He decided his only choice was to engage Erin. He was competent, she thought, but she couldn’t afford to take much time with him. He repositioned his sword just a hair too low after blocking one of her thrusts. Erin took advantage of his error to ram her sword into his side. The fight was over.
Now Erin turned. She was soaked with sweat and panting for breath. There were four Aldermen left: one swordsman and three catch-pole carriers. She stood facing them, her chest heaving. The four spread out and approached her. One swung his pole at her. Erin had spent a lot of time working with Alec in fights between swords and staff. She had done it to improve his ability to defend himself, but it had left her very familiar with how to work against the staff. She twisted, deflected the blow, and left a slash across his arm.
Not fatal, but it will slow him, she thought. Then she felt one of the catch-poles loop around her ankle. She jumped and slashed at the wounded fighter. She caught him, but not a mortal wound.
Then Erin was engaged with the remaining sword fighter. She felt another catch-pole hook around her feet. She jumped the same way again, as a fundamental lesson from her combat instructor crossed her mind: ‘Never do the same thing twice.’ The wounded fighter was ready and anticipated her landing. The pole was around her foot, and he was jerking to pull her onto the ground where he could control her. Instead of resisting, she turned and fell onto the pole, rolling, and grabbed it. If the fighter hadn’t been wounded, he would have been able to twist his pole and capture her; but he was hurt and didn’t have enough strength to twist. The two of them rolled together onto the ground. Erin managed to get free of him and back on her feet. She was starting to hurt from a collection of cuts and bruises and was wearing out – after pushing her body as hard as physically possible; she was reaching her limits. The remaining two pole holders and swordsman eyed her warily.
Go time, she thought, before they get organized. She attacked the remaining swordsman. They engaged in a furious display of flashing swords. It went on for longer than Erin wanted before she saw an opening and jabbed her sword into his stomach. The sword penetrated deeply and came out reluctantly. If Erin hadn’t been exhausted, she could have jerked the sword out with no problems. But the stuck sword gave the other two the time they needed. Erin was still pulling on her sword when she felt the crack of a pole across the back of her legs. She collapsed from the blow. She fell one way and the dead scout’s body, with her sword still stuck in his midsection, fell in the other direction.
Her leg was searing with pain, but she rolled over onto her back looking for a weap
on. The sharp end of a pike was thrust towards her chest. She arched her back and bucked to one side, just enough to make the pike miss a killing blow – but it impaled her upper arm. She felt the pike pull out and she felt her arm shear and saw her blood start to spit out profusely. She saw a pole coming straight down towards her head in what she knew would be a skull-cracking, neck-breaking, death blow. Her legs wouldn’t respond quickly enough to get her out of the way.
Down to two, she thought, and to be beaten by a stupid pole. The pole continued its rapid descent toward her head, and she flinched in anticipation of the pain. Then the end of the pole turned to dust, and powdery ash fell onto her head. The pole man looked at his weapon with astonishment. Erin didn’t wait. She forced her aching legs to respond and tried to move towards her sword. Her leg collapsed and wouldn’t support her weight, so she rolled towards her sword. She could see that the remaining pole man was pulling her sword from the scout’s body.
No, you don’t, she thought and remembered the trick that Alec had built into her sword. The sword handle became red-hot, and the Alderman dropped it in surprise, looking at the badly burned spot on his hand. Erin rolled to where her sword now lay. She grabbed it and tried to come to her feet. Her leg wouldn’t respond, and she collapsed onto her back, sword in front of her.
Alec came over the top of the draw and saw her in the carnage below. He saw the two remaining soldiers and blood spurting from Erin. The two soldiers looked at him with no fear in their eyes.
Anger raged within him.
In an instant, one soldier was gone with bursting eyes and boiling blood, and then the second was gone, his heart turned to stone. Alec slid down the draw and took Erin in his arms. Blood was gushing out of the pierced artery in her arm and she was fading from consciousness.