Chapter IV
The Road to Horrazim
“Can’t this rig move any faster?” Ventrigar pulled on the reins once more; he had found in the difficult conditions that the horses needed a lot of encouragement to brave the overgrown thicket of the forest.
They had been travelling for some hours and still there had been no sign of their pursuers, if they were being pursued at all.
“Can you make less noise its enough to wake the dead,” growled Andreas.
"You mean the Vendigo," muttered Achil, who was also getting exasperated by the clatter, the banging and the downright haranguing of the wagon as it jostled its way slowly forward.
Andreas furtively glanced round, his face a picture of pain every time the wagon fought to escape over rock, or from tangled brush, bush or fallen branches. They were certainly making slow progress amongst the trees. Ventrigar’s short cut; had not as yet yielded the desired result of shortening their journey.
Achil was bemused by their hoarse whispers, as though such an act would help conceal their all too obvious movements.
“How do you think the Mandrake knew of our whereabouts?” asked Achil.
As he spoke the wagon ran over a fallen tree trunk that cut directly across their path; throwing its wheels up in the air and Achil and Nishga along with it. The two fell back into a heap. It was all Achil could do, not to fall off the wagon and drag Nishga along with him.
Ventrigar shrugged resignedly, “It is an old trick of the Mandrake, they induce the transformation into the Vendigo, and once they discover their whereabouts, they have scouts follow the possessed back to the camp they came from. Very clever really, it is just a shame that once more we are too few to punish them for such a deed.”
Achil grabbed the reins from Ventrigar and pulled them tightly back stopping the wagon in its tracks. He had a strange look on his face. Andreas seemed to recognise what he was thinking at once.
“Achil we have a mission to complete,” said Andreas.
He spoke with the knowledge that all the protestations in the world would not make any difference to what he knew Achil wanted to do.
“No one to punish them, too few to make a difference?” said Achil repeating Ventrigar’s words. “Tell me are there Shamen with the Mandrake at the moment.”
Achil gestured for everyone to stop.
“Of course, they will be helping to hunt us down.” Ventrigar said, puzzled as to why they had stopped and anxious to move on. “But there are too many of them to bother with. We would not be able to get close enough to them to stop their magic.”
“Nishga, would you be able to use your powers against them?”
“Yes but what happened to only using my powers when absolutely necessary?” Nishga spoke with some hesitancy. Any plan to confront the Mandrake was a risky one.
Andreas and Nicholas sat on their horses, nodding to one another; both seemingly knew what was coming next.
“It would only be a small diversion, and what they’ve done to these people is a disgrace. As long as we’re not discovered no harm will be done. And the forest is a perfect place for an ambush.”
Ventrigar gave a more than guttural cough. “That’s all very good. But the Mandrake do not attack without considerable force. There will be hundreds of them in the forest, too many for us few. And the punishment if captured is most severe. No doubt they will nail us to trees, or cart us off into slavery.”
“Then we had better not get caught.”
Ventrigar repeated the words with a hint of opposition and a large amount of sarcasm. “We had better not get caught.” His voice turned serious. “What sort of fairy world do you come from? This isn’t some fantasy where the hero rides in and wins the day. This is the real deal and someone in the guise of a merchant should understand that more than most. You're now in Mead proper where people's lives are at risk practically every moment of the day. When the Mandrake proclaims Zero tolerance, they mean just that. You're stepping into the unknown, and your fearlessness is out of ignorance, and has yet to be tempered by the terror of the Mandrake.”
“If that’s your attitude,” replied Achil. “Then why don’t you just stay here or better still surrender. I do not have time for defeatist talk. No matter how long your people have been suffering. No matter how many friends and family you’ve lost. It is still no excuse for not having hope and for not dreaming of freedom.”
“Okay,” replied Ventrigar taken aback by Achil’s sharp reply. “Let's say you succeed what next? The Mandrake will merely punish the next village they come across.” Ventrigar’s voice betrayed the disquiet of an all too familiar theme. Every time a stubborn resistance was mounted. Once it was put down, the local population were made to suffer.
"The more that resist them, the less in control they will be, and like a house of cards they'll come tumbling down," replied Achil.
“So what’s your plan?” Ventrigar said irritated by his own despairing tone.
“Simple; I’m going to ride in and win the day; you know like in some fairy tale.”
Achil jumped off the wagon and unhitched it before placing a canvass over it. Then with the help of Andreas and Nicholas he began camouflaging it beneath leaves, sticks and brush.
“We’ll leave the horses here and go on foot. How far away do you think they’ll be?” Achil was excited to be doing something that meant more than skulking toward their destination.
Ventrigar just stared back at him hesitating a moment as to what to say next.
“How far away do you think they are?” rasped Achil.
“Not far, it will be easy to find them. They are not exactly concealing their presence,” replied Ventrigar.
“Good, what I have in mind is not a full on assault that really would be insane. What we are going to do is kill their Shaman. They’re the real serpents among them. We wait till dark, we go in, do what we have to do, then leave? Ventrigar you can fight back, but its knowing how to against a larger enemy. You shift tact when faced with overwhelming odds. This is not the open grassy plains you’re used to where you fought head on with your enemy. In fact any such act against the Mandrake Imperium would lead be madness. Instead you catch your enemy unawares, hitting him as hard as possible, as swiftly as possible, creating as much damage as possible, and then getting out. You also never hit the same place twice. Understood”
Ventrigar looked bewildered. “Understood, the Mandrake are that way. Tell me honestly who are you? If you’re a merchant I’m a bear.”
“Given your appearance,” replied Achil. “Then I must be a merchant.”
Achil grabbed his bow and placed it over his back. His shield was thrust over his shoulder and with his trusty sword at his side; he began without further discussion to move off.
It did not take them long to catch up to a Mandrake patrol. They would stop when the Mandrake stopped, and move when they moved. From where they were they could see that the Mandrake were a mixture of Marauders and Wrath, at their head were local Mead militia. They would stop to peer through bushes at them but all the time they remained unseen, and unheard. This went on for hours, until dusk, it was then that the Mandrake returned to what had been the Mead stronghold. It had been overrun. Some of the buildings had been burnt. The wooden walls were being taken down.
They watched from the cover of the trees. Achil grabbed Nishga’s arm and gestured for her to slowly back away. Furtively he glanced in every direction making sure there were no enemy within earshot.
“What do you think? Can you enter the compound without being noticed and find out where the Shamen are?”
They crouched down low as some Marauders walked passed laughing and drinking as they went.
“That won’t be a problem, I’ll leave right away you and the others remain concealed here if you can. If not I’ll meet you back at the last fallen tree we passed.”
Nishga put her cloak on and quietly slipped into the compound. What greeted her disgusted every sense in her body. There were large c
ages to one side. Filled with people she had only said goodbye to that very morning. She recognised Shwin and Suji in one. Outside were two guards taunting them with long wooden poles, if anyone fell to sleep they would be unceremoniously prodded with a stick so they would wake up. Other guards would go around shouting in their faces to unnerve them. In the middle of the compound three people had been taken out of the cages and were being systematically tortured. One was tied to a wagon wheel and was being flogged. Another was seated in front of an open topped barrel filled with water. He had a sack over his head and while one guard held his head back another poured water into his mouth practically drowning him. Another captive hung by his arms from a pole, a rope had tied his legs together; these were being tugged at by a guard who was enjoying the sport of it. A third Mandrake soldier was shouting at each man in turn. If they did not answer, or the answer was not the one the guard cared to hear, then further punishment was administered.
Nishga crept over to one of the remaining intact huts. She could hear the conversation inside and because the hut had been damaged when the strong hold had been breached there was a crack in the side of the wall big enough for her to see through.
“I tell you, there are no more hidden compounds like this. We have the lands of the Mead well contained, we can move our forces in and out without hindrance of being subjected to harrying, it's about time too, Jin has not been best pleased with our slow progress.”
The man speaking stood up and with a long stick was drawing a map on the ground. He was a Wrath warrior with a long dark mane of hair running down his back. Cold blue eyes stared back at the man speaking. He wore a sleeveless leather jerkin which only went to magnify his broad stature, beneath this was the fur of a mountain bear, his breeches were long covering scruffy worn boots.
Another Man who looked to be a Marauder stood by he had long dark hair and dark intelligent eyes. And Towered over the other five men, his arms were folded, impassively. He was covered for the most part by a cloak that was frayed at the bottom, a silver wolf clasp held it together. He seemed to have the standing of someone important among the group.
“I think you’re right. Those men would have talked by now if they had known anything.” His attention turned to three other men that Nishga could not make out; they were wearing long hooded black cloaks with the insignia of the Wolf inset a full moon on their backs.
“That was a good idea of yours to use the changelings. We‘ll burn the compound take the prisoners back and sell them on as slaves. You never know we might turn a tidy profit from this little campaign after all. I think the few that escaped will just disperse back into the community. We won’t bother pursuing them; they can spread tales of fear to their friends about how futile it is to stand against the Mandrake. And let's face it if we kill and punish everyone they‘ll be no one left to govern.”
“Its getting late,” said one of the hooded men, “Do you want us to break camp now and head back to the garrison at Muzzier?”
He walked over to the opening of the hut and stared out into the gloom. The Marauder warrior joined him there, and peered out into the deepening gloom.
“No, there’s no urgency now we’ve quelled the rebels. We’ll stay the night leave first thing in the morning. Make sure you tell the men to bed in and get a perimeter stockade built. Fire the pyre I want all the dead burnt and their remains scattered. Also tell some of the Wrath to go on night patrol, they can enjoy hunting in the wilds for a change. You never know they may pick up the scent of some of the Mead that escaped, and have some fun with them.”
The three cloaked figures smiled nodded and left the hut. They went to the corner of the redoubt, where they entered a large tent. Inside were young serving women. Slaves from previous campaigns, they undressed the men, all were tall shaven headed, their faces pallid, eyes like burning coals had some hidden fire to them, long white hair flowed down their backs. Ritualistic tattoos snaked across their chests and ran all the way round their bodies. The women placed silk gowns on each of them then brought them foods, before being dismissed. The Shaman sat around on furs and cushions and were eating from bowls filled with exotic food stuffs, such as dates and figs. They also had meat platters, and drank rich wine from golden goblets; they had the best of the comforts that the Imperium could provide.
Nishga crept round to the opening of the tent. The flap was raised letting in the cool evening air. There was also the unfortunate aroma of burning corpses. She peered in and could see how lavish the tent was internally. She immediately took in her surroundings, Vials of unnatural liquids were set apart on a stand, clay pots were filled to the brim with herbs and spices, and there was a strange aroma to the air. She had found where the Shamen were billeted; two of them had their back to her, all three had discarded their goblets and were drinking straight from the bottles of wine. It would have been a small matter to have poisoned them if she had any poison. One of them had a bottle in his hand; it contained a green viscous fluid. She quietly stepped inside the tent and took up a position close enough to hear what was being said, but far enough away so as not to create a suspicion.
“What should we do with this? It's served its purpose. We do not need to turn any more people into changelings. So shall we just get rid of it? It has a short life span anyway.”
One of the Shamen took the bottle from him, unlike the others his face held the scars of battle, two on either cheek. Before he had been found to have the abilities of a Shaman he had been a true warrior.
“There are only a few doses left, we’ll discard it in the morning and that will be that. What does Jin intend next.”
“From what I can gather when Marshal Ti is able, Jin wishes him to prepare for the next campaign but I do not know whether that is against Findolin and Askalon or the Witch King of Baronia. But at the moment there has been a disturbance in the eastern province of Frixam. It appears news of western defiance has spread there, and has emboldened some rebellious elements. Jin will have to once more bring order out of the chaos of those barbarian peoples. I understand that the capital city of Frixam was previously raised to the ground, will those people never learn. I suppose as is his usual want, Jin intends swift retribution, as it should be. He will make slaves of all the rebels and turn a tidy profit; you never know he might even make enough to pay for future campaigns.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of all the killing?” asked the smaller of the three Shamen.
The other two laughed at such a notion and castigated their brother for asking the question and thereby showing weakness.
“Believe me if the roles of our enemies and ourselves were reversed they would be trying to enslave us. At least we make them part of something great. They should welcome us for making them more enlightened. There has never been or will be again something like the Mandrake Imperium.”
Nishga at this point had grown tired of listening to their voices. She could not believe the self serving aspect of what was being said, nor how they could so easily justify their many acts of brutality in the name of civilising a people. Creeping low she made her way out of the tent, just as one of the Shaman was about to shut the flap. From where she was she could see that the stockade was practically erected. Small wooden sharpened posts had been hammered into the ground. It was barely worth dismantling the fortification if all they had wanted to do was build a defensive barrier. But then the reason why they had done so was because they needed the wood to burn the dead. Also they had not anticipated staying the night. Nishga moved closer to the cage containing Shwin and Suji.
“Did anyone tell them anything?” Suji said quietly looking around apprehensively not wishing to be overheard by the guards. Talking had been brutally punished either through torture. As in if you want to speak you can do it to an inquisitor, or by being beaten through the bars with long hard blunted poles.
“No one mentioned the meeting point. I think we may have got lucky. The arrogance of the Mandrake is their undoing. They probably believe that no one coul
d hold out under such torture and therefore there was no point continuing it. After all it would not prove worthwhile to maim any future slaves. It would no doubt affect their profit margin. They also probably believe we have nothing left to fight for, not realising that such a thing does not mean we have no fight left. They obviously don't know the old Mead saying of where there's life, there‘s hope.”
Shwin stirred in the dark, his leg had stiffened and he could feel the muscle tightening.
“We need to work out how to get out of here,” said Suji. “If we can open the cage door before morning, we could make a dash for the forest and hide out until they go. I’m betting they’ve already accomplished their mission. Which was to destroy the stronghold? Look around there’s only a few of us left alive. I hope some got away. Should we escape; one thing is for sure, the Mandrake need to pay for what they have done this day.”
“How do you propose?” asked Shwin. “We make them pay we are after all their prisoners. If anything I’m afraid we’re going to be the ones made to pay, and for a very long time to come.”
Nishga was about to speak when a pole hit Suji in the stomach knocking the wind out of him.
“I can hear someone murmuring, I said sleep.” The Marauder could barely be seen in the dark just his outline, a shadowy figure moving back to an open fire and his companions.
Even in the soft glow of the firelight Nishga caught a glimpse of the Marauder, he had a cruel face, stern, and unemotional, as though it were empty of feeling and not quite alive; it sent a shiver down her spine. She carefully made her way passed the guards and without anyone noticing, she soon crossed the stockade. There were sentries positioned at regular intervals along it, but their vision was obscured in one area by the shadow of intersecting wooden pickets, which would enable her companions to infiltrate the camp without being seen. Once out of sight of the compound Nishga made her way to the meeting point removing her cloak as she went, feeling safe, she quietly called out for Achil. He appeared from behind one of the trees.
“What took you so long?” He had been concerned by her lengthy absence. “A patrol recently passed this way.”
“A patrol you were lucky, the commander sent out Wrath warriors who were told to have fun should they come across any Mead escapees,” replied Nishga picking up a small stick, she began to make an impression of something on the ground. “Imagine this is the compound. There is a stockade built all around here, which has sentries running along it. Over here are cages where they keep their prisoners. Shwin and Suji are in this one. Here is the tent where the Shamen are kept and over here is the hut with the commander. Weapons are piled up in the centre close to the fire.”
Achil studied Nishga’s scratched drawing for a moment.
“Right this is what we’re going to do. First we split up, Ventrigar you and I free the prisoners in this cage. Andreas and Nicholas you free them in the other one. Nishga you go after the Shaman. Remember we get in and get out this is not to turn into a full blown skirmish. Once the prisoners are released the enemy will still outnumber us about ten to one and once the Wrath change to Wolfmen then the odds will grow against us even more. The very key to success is whether we catch them unawares. They hopefully won’t realise something’s up until it's too late. Are we clear?” everyone nodded, “Then let's go.”
The five of them moved quickly beneath the forest canopy. As they drew closer to the edge of the compound, Achil took his bow and placed an arrow in it. He could see the shape of someone standing guard by one of the posts so he drew back the string and let fly. The figure seemed to slump back and fall. The five of them dashed forward; as they passed the figure on the ground Achil withdrew his Arrow. The fire was fading and the soldiers on sentry duty did not notice that there was something amiss, and that one of their comrades had fallen. Andreas and Nicholas sneaked up behind two other guards took hold of their mouths and plunged their knives into their necks preventing them from crying out. Ventrigar did the same to another. But one of the guards stirred and jumped up seeing his comrades. He was about to give the alarm when an arrow pierced his neck. He stood there a moment in disbelief and then dropped to the floor. By now the prisoners in the cages had got wind that something was up. Ventrigar checked the guard he had killed for a key to the lock but could find nothing. He passed Shwin and Suji some weapons through the bars which were distributed around. Andreas had more luck on the key front when searching the guard he had felled. He opened the cage and told the prisoners to get some weapons and make their escape. He then went over to Ventrigar to see if the same key worked that lock. It did, all the prisoners were now free.
Nishga covered by her cloak lifted the flap and entered the tent of the Shamen. They were all asleep on furs, each with a bottle of wine by his side. She withdrew her crystal and as she had been shown by the Nashvilly, uttered a few words of power, suddenly the time fame surrounding her distorted and slowed. She approached the Shamen; two of them had young slave women next to them. Nishga found the Jar that she had seen the Shaman talk about earlier, within it was the potion to turn men into changelings. She went over to each man in turn and while they slept poured some potion into their mouths. One of the women stirred momentarily, but then went back to a deep sleep. No doubt the women had been drugged to help make them more compliant thought Nishga as she exited the tent. As she made her escape, the incantation wore off and time returned to normal. A guard cried out, he had found the dead body of his companion. Achil let loose an arrow but it was too late to stop the alarm being sounded. A loud gong rang out.
The cage doors were flung open and the prisoners fled into the forest. Archers on the battlements who had been looking outward were suddenly aroused by the sound of the gong and thought that they were under attack not realising that their compound had already been infiltrated. They desperately turned to fire at the escapees who for the most part were clear behind the cover of the trees. One Wrath Warrior was already turning into a Wolfman. He leapt forward at Achil who fell back beneath him, only just managing in time to bring his sword up into his midriff. The Wrath warrior slumped to the floor dead. Achil quickly jumped up, and seeing Nishga ran to her.
“I’ve only weakened the Shaman with their own potion; you will have to finish them.”
“We don’t have the time, put your cloak on and let's go.”
Nishga did not need a second invitation and immediately disappeared from view. Achil made straight for the opening in the stockade. Arrows whizzed passed his head, and bounced of his shield. Andreas and Nicholas had already made their exit. As he left the compound Achil pulled his cloak too and turned to see Suji fighting with the commander of the Mandrake. He knocked the sword out of Suji’s hand. Grabbed hold of his neck and with one arm lifted him off the ground. He then plunged his sword right through his body. Tossing the lifeless body aside, discarding it as though it were nothing more than a rag doll. The man stood watching the scene in front of him. His eyes rested on Achil, before Achil turned and disappeared into the forest. Running as fast as he could, he made for the rendezvous point. He could hear the commotion in the forest as people tried to make good their escape. The pursuers had resisted the temptation of chasing them in the dark. The commander knew that most of the Wrath were already out on patrol and were unlikely to return to the compound before daybreak. The means of tracking the escapees without them was more limited.
Achil darted in and out of the trees. He eventually made it to the meeting point. Andreas Nicholas and Nishga were already hiding in the trunk of a collapsed tree. As he arrived a large howl went up. It could only mean one thing the Wolfman were aware of the freed prisoners. In the next instance Ventrigar came through the undergrowth startling everyone. Achil almost impaled him with his sword.
“We need to go at once before the Wolfmen pick up our trail and start the hunt for real.”
Ventrigar made to go back. “I am not leaving Suji I must go back for him.”
Achil grabbed hold of his arm. “Suji’s dead. I
saw him killed. We must leave.”
Ventrigar’s face betrayed the shock he felt. Unable to speak he pointed in the direction of where the wagon was and the five of them moved off quickly. They raced through the forest as fast and as quietly as they could, they hastened by the thought of being caught. Through the undergrowth they went, hurdling fallen branches and any obstacles that lay across their path.
The Wrath Wolfmen were a different type of enemy. They pursued by smell and hearing. Were highly mobile, extremely fast and could run without pause, as though they never became exhausted. When changing to wolves they became truly savage fearsome acolytes of their master, Jin. They were an elite force of the Mandrake Imperial legions almost as feared as the Shadow Warriors themselves. They were afforded all types of privileges and to become one was considered an honour.
Dawn had approached when Achil reached the wagon; the horses were stamping their feet. They could sense a menace loose in the forest. The five of them pulled away the camouflage with which they had covered the wagon, attached the horses and moved off. Time was of the essence. The howls that seemed distant only moments earlier were closing in. Ventrigar led them towards the edge of the forest. The trees afforded them some protection being so large. There was no indication as yet that they were being followed. The forest quietened at its edge, becoming less menacing than when they had been in the heart of it. But still they could not be sure that they were free of the danger.
Ventrigar showed them to a path that he hoped would lead them safely onto the Road to Horrazim. In the heart of the forest it was still very much alive with the howls of wolves and the screams of people being caught. It appeared the Wrath patrol had found themselves some victims. It did not take much for them to imagine the suffering that any captured Mead warrior would be facing, especially since once unleashed the Wrath seldom took prisoners.
What they did not know was that the Mead that had escaped, had turned to face the Wrath, swords in hand, and with one thought, they would run no longer. They had also been joined by other Mead who had managed to escape when the compound had first been taken earlier the previous day and had been waiting in the forest for an opportunity to rejoin their kin. So it was that when the Mandrake came upon them they were sorely surprised to find themselves evenly matched. The battle that ensued went on until early the next morning, where no quarter was given and none was taken.
Achil and his companions could not have realised that behind them as they went, Mead warriors whom they had once considered enemies, were making a final stand that helped them to escape.
Achil & The Kingdom of Jin Page 6
