by V C Sanford
Tucked up behind a large boulder atop the canyon rim, Castillo watched as the last of the laborers passed thru the bottleneck. The mages plan was a simple one, wait until the members of the pack train were exhausted from their efforts at clearing the blockage of the valley, and then attack before they realized that there was no way out. After a week on the road, his men were no longer as easy to control as they had been when he’d led them onto the fresh trail. Delays only aggravated the situation. Lord Baldric’s officious mage had left no room for error, making it clear to Castillo that if he failed to deliver exactly what he’d been ordered to deliver, it would be his last failure. Castillo rarely worried…that a woman was the source of his anxiety only made it worse.
The trap was triggered. He had no intention of letting their rabbit back out of the snare. His men were well hidden, they wouldn’t be seen until it was too late.
********
Alex couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The canyon rim was heavily overgrown with scrub trees and briars. An entire army could have been hiding there and no one would know it. The canyon itself was pockmarked with caves and natural crevices, any one of which could be utilized as part of an ambush. The Sergeant had ordered his men to check out all the openings within sight, however, there’ not been enough time to check them all. One more day and the passage would be open. There had been no signs of movement except for an occasional rabbit and one nosy fox. So why was he so jumpy?
Dinner had been hot and filling, a simple stew with biscuits and warm cider. But to the tired and hungry workers, it was a feast. Balancing her plate, Nikiva followed Kelvarr, a handsome young scout, over to a couple of rocks near where most everyone gathered to eat. Maxx, Rhianwen, and Alex were already there.
Kelvarr ate quickly, using his biscuit to wipe the last drops of stew from his plate. Rhianwen noticed how quickly the small amount of stew vanished.
“Here,” she said, offering her plate to the hungry man.” I’m not very hungry, and you always seem ravenous. All this digging must have increased your appetite along with your muscles.”
“I guess I’m so tired I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” he said, taking the still steaming plate from the tiny Shii maiden. “I’ve got watch tonight and I’m already exhausted after digging all day.”
Rhianwen had felt a momentary pang of guilt as she noted the envious expression on several faces as Kelvarr finished her stew. He slopped the last dregs of the stew from the plate with the last of her biscuit, and then washed it down with water. Feeling slightly guilty about accepting Rhianwen’s food, he offered to wash the plates and return them to the cook tent.
“Maybe it’d be better if you and Rhianwen turned in early,” Alex prompted.
He pretended it didn’t bother him, but Maxx could tell…his friend was jealous. Both girls adored Kelvarr. One of these days he’d get tired of the taste of foot in mouth. Soon he hoped.
Alex flinched as Nikiva’s green eyes darkened to smoldering ash. He quickly collected himself before she exploded.
“Why,” she snapped. “Rhianwen’s already healed everyone that needs healing. She saved the leg of that young guardsman who was caught in the slide, and she’ll be able to help anyone is injured. We’re looking forward to a little fun.”
Maxx wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. It was going to be a long night, especially with both boys pulling night watch duty. He pushed aside a length of briar and stepped across a rotten limb that had fallen across the deer path leading down to the creek. He never minded night watch. But being rushed by whoever was assigned as his partner always ruined his mood. It was easier to tack up his horse ahead of time. Then he could take a short nap before starting his shift.
Storm, his grey mare knew his routine. He’d examine her feet for stones, lightly brush her coat, and then slap her on the belly twice before cinching the belt. Once he’d made the mistake of jumping on a horse without first checking the girth of the saddle. It was months before his friends stopped calling him sidewinder. He passed Alex on the way back to camp.
It was quiet down by the stream, just the thing Alex needed to clear his head. Nikiva could fire him up in seconds and he didn’t want to overreact. Like everyone, he was excited to clear the final few feet of the rubble and finish their journey. The last couple of days had taken their toll on the entire wagon train. Most everyone wanted nothing more than to eat, then collapse into their bedrolls for a few hours sleep, before starting the next long day of digging. He relaxed a bit, enjoying the sounds of the night.
Despite being exhausted from the tedious drudgery of clearing the landslide, a few of the more talented people had formed a makeshift band, much to the enjoyment of those too stressed out to sleep. One man was playing the mandolin, its tinkling notes could be heard drifting on the night air amid the scattered voices of men and women.
A group of the younger children raced around the camp playing Wyverns and Weasels. The tenuous clack- clack -clack of their makeshift wooden swords drew the attention of the mothers in the crowd keen to send their tireless progeny to bed.
A trio of night watch guards had arranged two old wooden packing cases into a makeshift table and was enjoying a lively game of cards prior to starting their shift. Maxx sat watching the card game, hoping for a chance to join in before the men had to leave for guard duty later that evening.
“I bid three stones and two crowns.” Callus, one of the youngest guards, said as he tossed two silver pieces into the pot.
“Only a fool would bid three stones when two are showing on the table already.” Pontus crowed. “I bid two blades and two crowns.” He tossed in his coins and drew two cards. The burly old ranger laughed at the sullen expression that appeared on his young friend's face once he realized there was no possible way he could win the hand.
“I’ll take three cards. The game ain’t over ‘til Tyche spins her wheel.” Callus checked his cards then tossed them on the pile. “Guess I landed on black, time for me to get back to work anyway. Maxx, you want my spot?”
Callus stood to leave, stretching languidly to loosen up his back as he rose. A sudden sharp pain flared in his chest, followed by a second one lower down. He grasped the arrow that jutted from his chest, trying to pull it out but unable to get a grip on the bloody shaft. Bubbles of red foam formed in his mouth as he struggled for breath, then the world went black and he slumped forward onto the makeshift table.
“Inonu’s bloody sword!” Maxx rolled backward off the log he’d been sitting on, using the underside of a nearby peddler’s cart for protection from the hail of arrows. He crawled away from the line of fire, sheltering behind a nearby crate. Two brightly feathered arrows embedded in the wood inches away from his head, marked in a pattern he’d hoped to avoid seeing again. Orrogg raiders! And I left my axe next to my bedroll. A boot knife and no shield, against bowmen I might as well be unarmed. Some choice, death or humiliation. He began to half crawl, half drag himself back toward his bedroll and awaiting axe. Two short runs and a belly crawl later, he claimed his favorite weapon and advanced on his first target, his eyes gleaming dangerously in the meager firelight. In the shadow of the flickering fire, he could make out two blood-spattered young cadets. They were seriously overmatched, struggling to fend off the advances of three bigger and fresher Orrogg tribesmen. Two of the burly raiders kept their inexperienced targets attention, while the third circled warily, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Praying no one had noticed, Maxx worked his way from tree to tree until he was behind them. The nearest man, a heavily built man wielding glaives, had forced his opponent onto one knee. Maxx knew he had to act fast. The heavy iron blade bit deeply into the unsuspecting raider’s arm, cleaving it from his body. The unruly fighter staggered into his partner, throwing off his attack. Tyche rolled black again, as Maxx stepped into the path of the uncontrolled strike. The jagged blade bit deeply into his shoulder, causing him to lose his hold on the dagger he’d gripped in his off hand.
&nbs
p; The Orrogg raider drove his blade into the side of the young cadet before moving to assist his armless partner. Maxx didn’t wait for him to close. He swung the battle axe sideways, slicing thru his leather breastplate and across his stomach. Bloody entrails followed the blades exit and the man dropped like a stone, dead before his body hit the ground.
For a moment Maxx’s vision blurred, and he had trouble staying on his feet. A lot of blood was leaking from his shoulder wound, he needed to find help before he passed out. The last time he’d seen the girls they were hiding under a wagon, he prayed they were still there. Maybe the Orroggs will run out of arrows. They can’ have many left, the wagons look like porcupines. Orroggs liked to reuse their arrows, believing the blood of dead enemies made them fly straighter. They would fight until death rather than leave them behind.
“Rhianwen,” he called out as he fell, hoping the girls were close enough to hear. “I could really use your Goddess right now.”
“Pray Rheaaz has a soft spot for pig-headed Duaars,” she said, crawling from beneath the wagon, to a sheltered spot near where he lay. She clasped his hand, kissed him lightly on his brow, and prayed. “Rheaaz, blessed mother, I beg you once again to heal this exasperating young Duaar so that he may continue to irritate us. I willingly accept your price.” Almost instantly the goddess answered. A soft radiance began building around their clasped hands, spreading along Maxx’s arm, and upward toward his bleeding shoulder. Reaching the most damaged area, the glow intensified as the torn flesh melded together, the blood flow slowing, and then stopping entirely. Rhianwen ran her fingers lightly over her new pink scar, amazed at the ability Rheaaz had granted her, worth any price she had to pay.
“I’m good for now, please get back under the wagon” He struggled to pull his hand away but Rhianwen would not release it.
“You’ll have to endure my company a little longer,” she replied, leaning forward and shifting her weight to gently press him back to the ground. “Until I’m certain you’re fully healed, you’re not getting up off the ground. The fight will have to wait.”
********
“Well girl, are you going to help the others, or continue to cower under this wagon?” Nikiva struggled, torn between fear, and lack of confidence. Her decision made, she belly-crawled to a nearby tree stump, and peered out at the fighting. The ambushers had the upper hand. Most of the soldiers were armed but many of the camp defenders were fighting with whatever makeshift weapon they could grab. Any help she could provide would be welcomed.
Crouched behind the meager cover, Nikiva began the first line of a spell she’d recently mastered. Three or four words later she knew she was in trouble. She couldn’t concentrate. I can do this. Master Stolinn would never let me give up. Closing her eyes, she centered herself and began again, first chanting a few incoherent syllables, then throwing a handful of crushed eggshell into the air. Finally, she snapped out the command word while striking her hands together, and gestured toward a large group of raiders standing over the mangled bodies of two women and a child. Immediately a misty black fog began to rise, an acrid cloud filling the air and making it impossible for the men to see more than a few inches in any direction. Nikiva grinned as the haze deepened, changing color and smelling like rotten eggs. The unsuspecting raiders began coughing, moaning and striking each other as they struggled to escape the malevolent poison.
“Nikiva, drop now!” Rhianwen panicked and grabbed Alex’s bow’ pointing it toward the raider but she couldn’t get a clear shot. Stepping from behind the wagon wheel, the tiny Shii-Lakka girl released the taut string, firing with her eyes closed, with no thought of directing or controlling the arrows erratic flight. Her target, an extremely ugly warrior wearing the mummified head of a Foxbat as a headdress, grunted as the missile struck him in the chest. He yelped once and fell. Amazed at her success, she sighted on a second attacker, who was standing and staring, frozen in shock by the sight of an armed Shii-Lakka draped in flowing desert dress. Even with the goddesses help, Rhianwen was astonished when the arrow struck him, driving him first to his knees and then forward, to land atop the small boulder Nikiva was crouching behind. Despite his injuries, he struggled to swing his sword at the unprotected girl. Nikiva ducked and the man’s rusty blade passed over her head. Rhianwen managed to use the edge of her bow to divert the blade away, but the blow numbed her wrist and left the weapon useless. She feared that even with an arrow in his chest, the Orrogg was much too strong for the two girls to defeat alone. She braced herself for the next blow, all the while calling for help that never came.
********
Chaos ruled. From his position near the main campfire, Alex occasionally caught a flash of metal or heard muffled shouts and screams, as the spell blinded participants swung wildly at any viable targets in the dark. One by one the cries within the foul-smelling cloud died out. As the wind began to disperse the noxious fumes, he wondered if there was left alive. It looked like every raider had succumbed to the poisonous gas, or from the desperate thrashing cuts of a fellow raider trapped inside.
Alex decided to search for Nikiva, eager to tell her how amazed he was by the results of her spell. He wasn’t certain but he thought he’d spotted her standing near a big rock to his right while she was casting. It was difficult to see her thru the smoke from the fires and the remains of her unexpected spell, but she was still at the rock, looking disheveled… but uninjured. He turned to join her, but Maxx, along with the redhaired Corporal and a few other men, was still embroiled in a savage melee against a handful of attackers over by the supply tent. Wiping the sweat from his face, he went to join them.
The two teens ended up fighting back to back, holding off the press of blades through pure determination. Alex couldn’t hazard a guess as to how many opponents there had been in the raiding party. No matter how many they took out, more appeared. There seemed to be no end to them. A strangled scream of pain drew their attention. Spotting an old man protecting his wife and child, Maxx rushed to aid the suffering family. He swept his axe overhead, bringing it down across the back of one of the raiders. The excited old man quickly finished him off by driving the shattered hilt of a pitchfork into his stomach.
Alex had his own problems, hard pressed by a particularly ugly brute that fought two-handed. The Orrogg used one knife to strike upwards, and the second to jab at his blind side. Reflexively he threw his sword up to protect his head, leaving his abdomen to take the full brunt of the second thrust. He followed up with a third blow, jamming the blade forward into Alex’s groin. Alex fell to the ground, paralyzed by pain. Unable to defend himself he closed his eyes and steeled himself for the death blow.
********
Nikiva screamed as Alex fell, a loud and piercing wail that was cut short as a filthy hand was clamped over her mouth. A second hand wrapped her around the neck, choking off her air and pulling her backward toward the trees. She lashed out blindly, but her wild arcing swings did no damage. Panicked, she bit down on his hand in a desperate attempt for freedom. With a strangled cry he jerked his hand away, scraping additional skin off. He thrust the bleeding fingers into his mouth to ease the sting, however, he didn’t release his hold on the struggling girl.
Nikiva shrieked again, and kicked back with her foot, landing a blow but doing no harm. Annoyed by her continuing resistance, the irritated raider cuffed her. The halfhearted wallop knocked her off her feet. Arms wind-milling, she fell backward, striking her head against the side of a tree, there was a sharp pain then everything went black.
Chapter 11
“How are you feeling now?” Maxx inquired anxiously as Alex opened his eyes for the first time since being injured in the midnight attack.
“Like I was stabbed, tied to my horse and dragged for miles,” he responded.
“Well, actually you were stabbed---three times if you count the bolt from the crossbow. But no horse was involved. It took Rhianwen a while to stop the bleeding, but you’re going to be all right now.”
He pul
led the blanket higher around Alex’s’ chest and then held a flask for him to drink. Alex took a few sips of the fiery brew, then lay back against his saddle, using it to prop up against. The pain was making it difficult to concentrate and he struggled to convert his thoughts into words.
“How are the girls? Is everyone all right?” He asked anxiously, looking around the campsite for any sign of Nikiva. Maxx felt his face flush at Alex’s question. He hesitated, Alex was crazy about Nikiva even if he hadn’t admitted it to himself. As for Rhianwen, she was much too young, too innocent, to deal with what she had faced.
“The girls are fine. Nikiva expected to be killed, instead, the man snatched her necklace and ran. Rhianwen’s been busy healing the other serious injuries. She says she’ll be by to check on you, so be patient.” Maxx sighed wearily, the weight of his words making it difficult for him to speak. “But there’s something else you should know. This wasn’t a normal ambush. Captain Akon is convinced this wasn’t a simple salvage foray. Someone took the time to plan this raid, waited until we were all exhausted from clearing the obstruction, and then attacked. The timing was too perfect, they knew we’d break through the rubble tomorrow.”
