The New Star: Interlude 1
The caravan was lightly defended, a small mercenary force consisting largely of raw recruits, nothing more. The Arzeckhi fell upon them as they negotiated the hills south of Varsi. The defenders fought at first, but were soon broken by the ferocity of the surprisingly well-coordinated barbarian attack. When they tried to run, they died, and soon the marauders were in among the caravan itself. The Arzeckhi had no use for horses, so they killed any they came upon. The pack animals, mostly yeddim, they slaughtered too. The merchants and their families were no more fortunate. Those that fought; died. Those that did not were taken away into captivity, to face life as a slave or, more likely, death as a sacrifice, at the whim of their captors.
The chieftain led the raid in person, accompanied by his sons. They chose one wagon, no different in appearance to many others, to plunder. There they were resisted by a merchant who, in defending his wife and his own children, killed the chief’s eldest son. The chief shed no tears over this – if this man bested his son then clearly he was strong and so his son had met his end at the hands of a worthy foe. But he cut down the man anyway, and took the woman, children, and the man’s possessions for his own.
The man did not die instantly from the wounds he received. He lay bleeding amidst the wreckage of his caravan as the raid went on, accompanied only by distant screams and the whooping of the triumphant raiders. As his life ebbed away he thought of his family, and prayed for them. In his final moments he called out to his brother, who was far away:
“Finn… help me… save my family…”
Then hope left him, and he died.