Chapter
Seven: The Caravan
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It was early in the
morning, but the warming sun was already creating a stench of death. A grim
sight meet Cronwyn, Rodrick, Shayam and Kris as they cleared the last rise
and looked down on the remains of the bodies. It did not look like any
attempt had been made to make graves, the bodies had been simply left behind.
It would probably have made little difference, since the signs of wild
animals were everywhere and very little remained of the corpses. The men rode
down, scattering birds in all directions. "It looks like the
war is continuing," said Shayam grimly. Rodrick agreed.
"Look at the marking on that shield. It's the 'fangs', one of the
halfling regiments." When the group got closer
they could see that it was in fact the remains of about eight halflings that
were attacking attention. Some of the enemy were also among them, but they
were different from the bodies that Turadyl and Rodrick had seem back in
Pramayama. "Look at these two.
They aren't wearing veils," said Turadyl. "Perhaps they were
knocked off in the fight?" suggested Cronwyn. "Perhaps, but the
armour is different from what we saw before as well. More mis-matched. I
don't know if these are the Master's troops after all." "Well it is possible
that they are just common bandits," offered Cronwyn. "This part of
the journey is rife with them. In any case, we should try to give them a
proper burial." "I don't think there
is time,' said Shayam. "The caravan is already getting ahead of us. We
should be getting back right now."
The stamping of camel
hooves announced a new arrival. It was Zeid, the leader of the guards that
meet the party the other day. He had obviously noticed them break away from
the caravan. "What are you doing here?" he barked at them all in
his slurred Thyatian. It was up to Rodrick to
try and explain. "They men are our countrymen. We want to give them a
proper burial. It will only take an hour at the most." Cronwyn raised
his eyebrows. They were meant to be front Glantri, not the Five Shires! Zeid's bearded face was
an unreadable mask as he stared at the warrior. Rodrick met his look straight
in the eye. The caravan guard seemed to take in the whole situation before
making his comment. "We will break for half an hour here, and I will
send down some slaves to help you. But hurry, after this your men," he
stared at Rodrick while saying this, "will be advance guard." "But
Lamshar..." Rodrick started. "Only commands here
by my leave. Your men shall have their burial." The beared guard was
gone before anyone could ask further questions. With the extra help provided the
halflings were quickly buried. The party took on the duty of advance guard
without much grumbling. This included the other three foreigners, Ark, Shayam
and Kris. Kris grumbled good-naturedly that hanging around Rodrick meant
being volunteered for a lot of extra duties. "I bet you were popular
when you were a private,' teased the wiry fighter. Rodrick quipped, "That’s
why they promoted me to Sergeant." Cronwyn slapped his hand against his
head because Kris had just tricked Rodrick into giving away another part of
his disguise. Kris gave the merchant a conspiratory wink. The time till noon passed quickly,
the party resumed their travel several hundred yards in front of the caravan.
As they were passing by the side of a particularly steep dune, Ark noticed a
small smudge appear on the horizon. He pointed it out to the rest. "Is it a sand
storm?" asked Malthus. "No," said
Turadyl. "My spell would have alerted me." "Anyway, the dust
doesn't stretch far enough along the horizon. I think its riders of some
kind," said Cronwyn. "Must be a fair few to be kicking up that much
dirt." "Since it looks as
though they are going to outnumber us, we should get our backs against this
dune here. That would at least stop them surrounding us. And there would be a
bit of cover to fire arrows from," said Turadyl. "Difficult to
retreat though. Rodrick, what do you think?" But the impulsive fighter
was not there! At the first sign of trouble he had picked out what the other
had not seen. The riders (they were close enough to be seen now), were not
aiming for the party at all, but rather heading straight for the caravan.
Rodrick was now heading straight for the caravan as fast as his camel could
take him. "That crazy
fool!" cursed Cronwyn. "He's right thought. I don't think they've
even seen us yet. We better get back as soon as possible!" The whole group set out
to follow Rodrick, but he now had a fair sized lead. What was worse, as they
got closer to the caravan, some of the riders seemed to split off to
intercept them. Rodrick managed to reach the
caravan before the riders hit. Zeid was trying to organise his men to fend of
the onslaught, Lamshar's camel was well defended in the middle of a circle
already. Rodrick was about to assist, but before he could even call out
"Bandit", they were on him. The riders didn't slow from full charge
when attacking. The first wave swept over, slicing through the caravan guards
with drawn swords. Before the Slagovichians had chance to recover, the second
wave attacked from horseback with short bows. Rodrick easily cleaved
his first opponent from his mount with a crushing blow. The second managed
two parries before being felled. But then an arrow caught his camel full in
the chest. The beast crumpled from the pain, and Rodrick fought the rest of
the battle on his feat. The rest of the party had managed
to get close to the caravan before being cut off. They had dismounted to make
use of the small amount of cover that was available. Ark, Turadyl and Kris
were using their long bows to devastating effect. With their cover, Shayam,
Malthus and Cronwyn were advancing on the enemy. It was then that the
leader of the raiders made himself recognised. He was a giant man, over six
and half feet tall with flaming red hair unusual in those parts. He carried a
huge two handed battle axe and was dressed in dented plate mail. He sliced
down to caravan guards to give himself room and then raised a horn that was
hung around his neck to his lips. The sound the issued was deafening. In fact
it was so loud that later Kris was to claim that he could actually see it.
All before the red-headed giant were sent tumbling, camels crashed to their
knees and caravan guards lay on the ground clutching their ears. The bandits
gave a loud cheer and pushed home the effect. Rodrick suddenly found himself
very alone. Shayam, Cronwyn and
Malthus were close enough to see that their friend was in trouble. They
pushed onwards through the flood of bandits in their path. Turadyl threw down his
bow, he could no longer pick out anymore targets without fear of hitting his
own men. With a few words he cast a spell and leapt into the air. The caravan guards were
now getting better organised, and many were now in small groups hiding behind
dead camels or boulders. Some would fling spears at the enemy, while being
defended by their friends with swords. But the bandits were slowly swallowing
these groups up. The red-headed warrior made a big difference by bashed his
way through the ranks of all who opposed him. He struck out on a direct route
towards Lamshar's camel. Rodrick moved to intervene. The bandit was stronger
and fresher, since Rodrick had already taken many hits in the battle. But the
Darokin had the value of experience. In any case it didn't matter. A thin
smile grew on the bandit's beared lip as he raised his horn again, and gave a
resounding blast. Lamshar's camel was down
in a second. Rodrick struggled to remain standing but was swept off his feet.
The raider lowered the horn and ran towards Rodrick with a raised battle axe.
He brought his weapon down with a huge smash, Rodrick somehow managed to
block. The noise of the two blades meeting pierced the battleground. But
Rodrick's defence had no strength. With a twist, the giant send his opponents
sword flying into the sand several feet away. His next stroke was brought
down on Rodrick's neck with full force. The brave fighter was dead in a
second. "No!" screamed
Malthus at the top of his lungs. Cronwyn and Turadyl were stunned. How could
their friend be dead? The cleric responded by
felling his opponent with a blow to the knee. He moved on without finishing
the man, but Shayam was there with a grim look his face. A blade flashed out
from his hand and silenced the man. Cronwyn kept on Malthus' right, also
trying to fight towards the man who had killed their friend. Malthus kept
creaming at the top of his lungs as he waded through the dead and dying. He
called loud enough the red-haired man took noticed. The leader raised the
horn to his lips for a third time, to repeat what had been done to Rodrick... But he had not seen
Turadyl! The elf had flown as straight as an arrow and managed to get
directly above the fighter. His gleaming plate mail made a nice target in the
hot desert sun. Turadyl called on his magic, and sent a beam of sizzling
white hot electricity to the ground and back. At first nothing seemed to have
happened, then bandit fell dead in his tracks. Panic began in the
bandits around him, then spread throughout them. Suddenly they were breaking
contact and fleeing out into the desert. The caravan guards were too tired to
chase them. There was silence near the caravan except for the moans of the
dying. Malthus sprinted to Rodrick's side
at top speed, with Cronwyn and Shayam close-by. The cleric knew that he was
probably too late to make a difference but wanted with all his heart to save
his warrior friend's life. He fell to his knees when he reached Rodrick and
nursed the man's head in his hands. Some small amount of life was left in
him! Rodrick looked up with
great difficulty. "Here," he gasped while putting a small leather
tube in the cleric's hand. "It's up to you now." Then he sighed his
last breath, and his head fell limply.
Malthus bowed his head.
"Is there... Anything we can do for him?" asked Cronwyn. Malthus
answered, "I'm afraid not. I can not heal him. The Great Halav could
bring him back, but alas, my powers are not that great." Cronwyn stared downwards.
He was joined by Turadyl who had just flown down and the three others from
the caravan. 2/12/00 |
Chapter Seven
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