Hunter: Warrior of Doridia (The Saga of Jon Hunter Book 1)

by Ronald Watkins

  The outlaws had laid an effective ambush earlier and killed good Sekers pursuing them from the caravan. Now that they considered themselves a safe distance from the caravan, free of further threat, far from any city, they believed they had little to fear.

  Stalking them as I did with tempered Doridian steel at my side, I knew they were wrong.

  ###

  The sounds of their night attack had roused me immediately. Lena, the slave girl, and I had made love a second time some hours before and at the moment of the attack I was deeply asleep.

  The attack overwhelmed my sentries with ease, striking as it did from the blackened forest. A diversionary attack had been launched moments earlier but it was for show intended to draw Sekers from the true assault. The main attack came against my wagon and those beside mine.

  I heard men scramble into the wagon above me and heard the Lady Shelba scream before she was seized. Lena lay quietly within my furs. Zelia was with another beneath the great wagon and she too maintained her wits and silence.

  Grabbing my sword, I went forth naked and bootless to save the Lady Shelba. I estimated the attackers of my wagon at thirteen while we who defended were but eight, the three guards having been slain or incapacitated in the first moments of the assault.

  I leapt into the wagon striking one outlaw through the ribs from behind as I did so. The Lady was being carried out the other end, screaming and fighting as the filthy brutes manhandled her over the side. Rushing towards her I was greeted by a swift blow to my head. My last memory was falling head first from the wagon to the harsh ground below.

  ###

  I awoke in daylight some time after the attack, my head resting lightly on a soft pillow. My wound had been bound, I learned, by Lena since a caravan as small as this rarely traveled with a physician. As soon as I could rise to my feet I went searching for Kaldak in order to determine the situation. I found the veteran supervising the care of his wounded and the repair of his wagon, his firm, weathered face tense and fatigued.

  “Greetings, Seker,” I said.

  “Greetings. You appear to have recovered from your injury. That is good. Others this day have not been as fortunate.” Although he was a seasoned Seker and surely had witnessed much bloodshed in his time all good commanders feel acutely the loss of any in their charge.

  “What are the casualties?” I asked.

  “I lost five men of my own and together other Leaders lost six, four of those I am

  informed were yours. As soon as I realized I had been tricked into responding to a fake attack I threw my men to your aid. Alas, by then it was too late. It was as though the outlaws were after but one thing and left once they had it.”

  I had arrived at the same conclusion myself but held my tongue.

  “The outlaws apparently lacked sufficient men,” he continued, “to stage a general attack and hope to succeed. Instead they elected to pull our men towards a diversionary assault while a second larger force struck your wagon. Your ... ah... slave, was taken as was a slave from one of the wagons beside yours. She too was blond and slept within.”

  So, this Commander of One Hundred was no fool. He had concluded that these Outlaws had not fallen upon us by happenstance. He believed they had struck with purpose and the goal had been my blond haired slave, the Lady Shelba. At night, in the confusion they had opted for taking two slaves of similar appearance rather than risk missing their objective.

  “But surely,” I asked, “other items of value were taken by these men?”

  “No, Seker, none. It is said,” he continued thoughtfully, “that some bands of

  outlaws are in the hire of evil men in the city of Taslea and that these outlaws strike with purpose when it best serves their patron. It has been noted that certain caravan wagons are nearly always attacked while others from Lesser Houses always go free – at least within a few days march of Taslea.”

  I nodded my understanding. Zagos had outlaws in his pay. Somehow the Lady’s presence had been discerned and his men had been dispatched to recover her for his bed and to forward his plans for the fall of the Great House of Rahdon.

  “What occurred after the attack while I was unconscious?” I inquired.

  “I organized a force to pursue and recover if possible the property taken. Four of your men, six of other wagons and ten of mine were sent into the forest. There they were ambushed. The Sekers returned after that since the attackers could have been anywhere and they knew the forest. It was not wise to stray too far from the caravan route in pursuit of outlaws. Altogether in the ambush alone we lost seven good men. Two of yours fell. We now tend the wounded and burn the dead. We will move out at midday.”

  I stared at the forest in the direction the attackers had first fled. “Perhaps,” I said, “the outlaws may not be as difficult to follow as one might first assume. If they are in the employ of one of Taslea and if they have property to be taken to the city then they would, no doubt, take a course towards Taslea.”

  “No doubt,” Kaldak agreed.

  “And if their employer were an impatient man, unaccustomed to frustration, then perhaps they would return to Taslea as quickly as possible and in as direct a route as possible for outlaws.”

  “It seems likely.”

  “And one man traveling lightly, unencumbered by armor or captives might by chance come upon them,” I continued.

  “Perhaps, but once this Seker reached them, he would be but one against many.”

  “That is true,” I said, “but a Seker must do what he can.” With that I clasped Kaldak’s forearm in the universal fashion of Doridian Sekers and returned to my wagon.

  Altogether six of my ten Sekers were dead. Losses not easily accepted. I informed Renakor of my plan then armed myself and with some dried meat set out at a run. Lena and Zelia would complete the journey to Lathanah with the rest of the goods.

  Whatever the result of my pursuit, I did not expect to be able to return to the caravan as we were now headed in opposite directions.

  By late afternoon I spotted them. As I had surmised, they were taking a direct route back towards Taslea one that paralleled the caravan route a few miles away. They were now following a stream while I remained behind and above them on the hillside. Considering that these were fighters of the forest, they were surprisingly unobservant. Clearly they felt secure from pursuers since their ambush had met with apparent success.

  They numbered eighteen, the two naked slaves the only women in the group. They were reasonably well armed, though poorly clothed. Dirty and marching in single file strung out, lacking point men and flankers.

  As the day progressed I planned my action for that night. One against eighteen was formidable but I had fine steel beside me, courage, surprise and the night all as allies.

  ###

  The outlaws made camp in a small clearing, posting guards in the forest about them. They built an enormous fire and made preparations for the night. The slaves, it appeared, were to be the entertainment.

  I circled well beyond the sentries until I found thick growth of thorny brush that could serve as cover and allow my approach to the camp’s edge. As darkness fell, I worked my way through the vegetation, unobserved by the careless guards.

  The leader was the grossest and most brutish of the filthy lot, a man who ruled with straightforward fear and physical intimidation. I wondered what crime he had committed to be banished. Looking closely I saw the missing finger on his right hand and knew him to be a thief for such was the punishment in all cities of known Doridia.

  The band argued and fought incessantly amongst themselves, the leader occasionally stepping in to end some violent exchange or other. The men were particularity agitated at not being allowed to touch the slaves. The brute was unwilling to risk molesting either of them fearing he would choose the wrong one and defile the prize he brought to Zagos. And so the Lady Shelba had thus far managed to avoid the inevitable fate of all slaves.

  While the men were not permitted to ravish the wo
men, the leader ordered them to dance following a boisterous dinner of greasy, stale meat. The outlaws formed a crude circle, some poking at the slaves with spear butts and fingers while others clapped hands and a few hardy fellows joined unevenly in a traditional slave tune. I thought at first that perhaps this was a trick to determine which of the two was the real slave and which the Free Woman as nearly all slaves receive some instruction in dance. But I soon decided that the leader was not that cunning.

  Nevertheless, I feared that if the true slave was an accomplished dancer then she would reveal which of the two was free and which slave. Fortunately, neither of the girls was very good. Perhaps, I thought, the true slave wishing to spare herself abuse by these savage men, danced poorly by design.

  The Lady Shelba had a majestic and fit body, golden and taut in the fire’s flickering light. She was easily as lovely as any slave dancer I had ever seen heretofore though unfortunately not their equal in dance. I thought, however, she possessed some potential.

  The Lady cringed quite nicely from the outlaws and had no difficulty being submissive. All in all she was playing the part of slave quite well, although I doubted that she could have maintained the charade, if such it were, in more civilized circumstances.

  The women moved with rhythm and sought to please their Masters for they would go hungry if they did not. As time passed, I paid closer attention to the sentries’ locations than to the women. Blackness descended upon the forest with the setting moon. In the distance a great cat snarled and once quite close, wood snapped as a large nocturnal creature moved by, little intimidated by man in his domain.

  The camp settled into slumber and I waited patiently, unmoved from my first position. Two outlaws slept so close to me I could nearly touch them. When the embers had burned to ashes, I took two cautious steps forward and in silence with my finely honed Khashan dagger, slit the throat of each, one gurgling a moment, the other thrashing about a bit but each died quickly.

  I withdrew cautiously into the woods and approached the first guard from the camp’s direction. What attention he maintained to duty was fixed on the forest beyond. Steps from his own men were not to be feared. As soon as I came up behind him I grabbed his mouth from the rear and quickly slashed his throat. He too died in relative silence.

  It took me nearly one hour to circle the camp in safety and slay the second guard. I had now killed four of the original eighteen in the band, sixteen of whom were outlaws.

  Assuming the position of the last slain, I waited for his relief and when he arrived I slew him easily as well. I then moved off in the direction their march would take in the morning and climbing a tree, sleeping deeply until dawn.

  Throughout the following day I circled the party several times as they continued their journey towards Taslea. Needless to say the silent death of five of their number in a single night left them much disturbed. Several were visibly frightened that morning and one refusing to leave camp was beaten by the brutish leader who also struck each of the slaves in turn, as though even bound they had somehow contributed to the killings. He sent two teams to search but when they found nothing he ordered the march.

  By afternoon the outlaw band had regained its confidence as the men neared their objective. Approaching darkness found me to their rear and when the rabble rounded a series of large boulders, I slew the tail man in the moment he was out of sight from the others.

  This now left ten adversaries. I knew there would be no similar easy kills this night at least not by approaching the men directly.

  During the day I had cut a proper branch and had carved at it throughout the march. I had stripped my last victim of leather. As the outlaw band settled in for the night I remained some distance away completing a crude yet sturdy bow. It would not last long but then it need not to serve its purpose. I was able to prepare but four roughly hewed arrows before final darkness. If my guess was correct, I thought, I would make good use of them that night.

  The leader was unable to compel any to stand watch. Instead the outlaws collected wood and built three robust fires which it appeared they intended to kindle throughout the night. The outlaws remained between the fires and none slept.

  The leader struck each of the women again in turn but tonight there was no slave song or dancing.

  I had suspected that with the unexpected deaths of the guards the previous night the men would elect to adopt a defensive posture such as they had. The fires lit the campsite brightly and I regretted having but four arrows. As it was, misfortune struck and one of the four hit a bit of metal on a man and did not kill him. Three others lay dead within an hour. They had all been easy targets, huddled as they were near the blazing flames. I had fired in safety from the blackness, the survivors unwilling to pursue me.

  Seven remained.

  At the darkest hour I called out. “I wish only the slaves. Leave them at daybreak and no harm will befall you. Injure them or take them with you and you all die.”

  I crept off a safe distance and slept.

  ###

  At dawn I observed figures remaining behind in the camp as others departed following a violent argument. I trailed them a time. There were six traveling without the slaves and at great speed, looking about them fearfully as they stumbled in their flight, heading in a new direction away from the city.

  I retraced my steps and walked openly into the camp finding the women still bound but unharmed. The waiting leader snorted as I approached, a sword in hand. “I thought there would only be one,” he growled. “The cowards would not believe me.”

  “Why have you remained?” I asked.

  “Because I can slay any single man.” And with that he came lunging at me, sword before him. He was powerful and had he been more intelligent would have been a formidable foe. As it was I easily avoided two of his charges searching for deceit. Finding none I drove my sword through his abdomen on his third pass, burying it to the hilt. He clutched futilely at my weapon in disbelief and sank to his knees, eyes blinking in bewilderment.

  Then in a swift, unexpected motion he lifted his sword and with the last measure of his strength, threw it, not at me, but at the much closer slaves, bound helplessly and laying on the ground. His sword flew true and tore into the flesh of one of the women. The brute looked to me, began a laugh which was interrupted with a flood of crimson blood and with glazed eyes fell forward into the coals of the fire.

  The slave was dead, the Lady Shelba untouched, though hysterical. The leader had fortunately chosen the wrong one to slay. Silently, I freed her from her bonds and without looking back marched away from Taslea, away from the caravan route, deeper into the forbidding forest, towards a range of craggy peaks already capped with snow.

  14. THE LADY SHELBA AND I

  The two birds were delicious, much like pheasant. I had eaten both of them since the Lady Shelba had refused to clean them. She had eaten nothing the night before when the outlaws had built the enormous fires and she had eaten little the night before that when she had danced poorly but with some grace and rhythm. She had not as yet said anything to me for she was High Caste and I, Low.

  So be it, I thought. I ate while she did not.

  I belched and wiped my hands on leaves lying beside me. The chilly autumn air

  permeated my tunic and I knew that the Lady Shelba was cold, unclothed as she was. This was not a condition the last unmarried daughter of the Urak Rahdon and High Caste of the Great House of Rahdon was suited for. As I cleaned my hands I saw that the sun was nearly out of sight, each minute the air growing colder. The Lady shivered slightly and clenched her teeth to keep from chattering. The cooking fire had dwindled away as there was no gathered wood.

  The Lady Shelba was quite cold and she had not as of yet spoken to me.

  ###

  When I had walked from the camp earlier that day she had hesitated and then realizing that she had nowhere to go, followed me. I presumed that she had decided she would die alone and I, at least, one employed of her father would not
slay her.

  I set a fast pace, her following some distance behind me but only with considerable difficulty. When I selected the night’s campsite she arrived exhausted, winded and scratched from the thick underbrush some time after me.

  Looking at her I recalled that I had once thought no man could break her. Now I wondered. I leaned back, enjoying the tingling sensation of a full meal. The Lady Shelba resembled a wild, cornered animal as she crouched across from me, filthy from the day’s journey.

  “Feed me! Clothe me!” she demanded in an even louder voice, perhaps a little hysterically.

  I stared directly at her, openly admiring her lush, ripe, nude body. She sought in vain to cover herself with her hands.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she ordered. “I’m cold. Clothe me or at least rekindle the fire.”

  At last I spoke. “There is no wood gathered.” For several moments she glared at me and then began collecting wood, most of which was damp or rotted and unusable. The night air was very cold by now. Without a fire or some protection she would probably die this night. I wondered how much she wished to live.

  After a time she said, “There is wood, now build a fire.”

  “It is not enough,” I replied. She stomped her foot but went at once for more wood. It was nearly black in the forest and the air was quite frigid. “Now,” she demanded, “build a fire.”

  “You must ask, not order, and then I will only do what pleases me. With my cloak I have no need of a fire.”

  She hesitated but as she breathed I could see the mist from her breath. “Please, please. Build a fire.”

  I detected no sarcasm in her voice and so I removed flint and with the steel of my dagger, in the dark, built a fire.

  I had selected a campsite surrounded closely by ancient gnarled trees. I thought they and the underbrush would mask a fire from any would be observers. The six outlaws had not followed us but other outlaws roamed these woods and I desired no company.