The Siege
Gray frost covered the land, reflecting silver in the clear moonlight. The entire land seemed to slumber. The wind howled through the deserted streets and outlying farms of Poditea. The entire village slumbered, except of the few town guards, unfortunate enough to have duty during the small hours. They stood in small clits, huddled near burning braziers, trying desperately to fend off the chill, many of them rubbing their hands near the comforting flames, or pulling their thick cloaks tighter about their bodies. They spoke little, their eyes always drifting outward over the silvery landscape, watching for anything out of the ordinary. The chill of winter had come sooner than any of them had anticipated. The nearby river was already covered by a thin coat of ice, and steam wafted up from within the wells placed sporadically throughout the town and outlying homesteads.
While those consigned to watch over the towns sleeping populace dealt with the biting chill, many of the residents themselves slept in relative comfort, most of them better than they had in previous years. As they maintained their comfort without the necessity of burning copious amounts of firewood as they had in the past, they each silently thanked the family that lived in the sturdy log house on the outskirts of the village.
That home was part of a small farmstead. It consisted of a simple barn, small vegetable field, and the large, sturdy log cabin, placed around a single large raised wooden platform. That platform had been the old foundation of the previous home, but had been refit the year prior to serve as a wedding pavilion for two of the towns most unique and yet beloved residents. Whenever the people in town discussed the "Forester House", they did so with a sense of civic pride.
That night, the home and the barn were shut tight against the coming chill, and the field was cut flat, its harvest gathered well before the frost. Smoke rolled lazily out of the two stone chimneys at either end of the rear wall, and the soft orange glow of the fires within could be seen, shining gently through the tiny gaps in the drawn and bolted shutters.
The logs that made up the walls of the home were actual logs, most nearly two feet thick, and joined at the corners by interlocking cuts, similar to a child's Lincoln Logs play set, which was, in fact, where the builder had gotten his inspiration. Between the logs was a layer of black pitch, which sealed off any gaps between them, and created an effective water barrier between the outside world and those who dwelled within. A sloping, slatted roof rose gently to a point at the center of the building, covered in rough shingles instead of the usual thatch and mud mixture. This was an innovation that several of the more affluent in the village had already copied after learning how effective the style was at keeping out the most persistent of summer rains.
Compared to the basic structures in Poditea, this single log edifice was a wondrous modern marvel. It was even rumored that the occupants enjoyed the comfort and luxury of interior plumbing, something only found in Athens or Rome.
Tonight, within that home, three people slept contentedly.
Slowly, Gabrielle opened her eyes and rolled over, seeing the empty place at her side where her husband David should have been. Instead, the blankets were folded over and his place was empty. She glanced over at the small metal heater and saw the still glowing embers within. The heat radiated from it comfortable and the soft scent of burning pine gave the room a comfortable feel. Frowning sleepily, Gabrielle got slowly to her feet, wrapping a thick blanket about her. She noted the empty bassinet next to the bed as she padded into the main living room, trying to ignore the stiffness in her joints and stopped short when she reached the end of the narrow hall. From that room, the gentle strains of a guitar could be heard playing over the crackle of the flames. It strummed soft and slow, like a lullaby, adding to the cozy atmosphere of the room.
A smile crept across her face as she looked to the large sofa, resting next to the hearth. Within the hearth, a fire still burned merrily, as if someone had only recently added more fuel to the flames. On the sofa, lying upon the simple cushions was her husband, wrapped in a blanket and cradling another, much smaller shape upon his chest.
She tip toed to the side of the couch and knelt down, and almost laughed out loud at the sight.
There, lying with her tiny thumb planted firmly in her little mouth was her daughter, Xena. Her eyes were closed and she breathed softly, her head lying right over her father's heart. He lay, breathing softly, his face turned towards the back of the couch, one arm wrapped protectively over his daughter, the other draped over his head.
Gently, Gabrielle reached out and placed her hand on little Xena's head. The child stirred contentedly, her eyes opening for just a moment, just making sure that the contact had not been a figment of her dreams, and the blue eyes closed again as she let out a deep sigh. Well, as deep a contented sigh as an infant can make.
Gabrielle looked and saw the tiny music player that David had brought back with him, the small screen shone green in the orange light of the room. Upon it, the tiny black crystal letters spelled out 'Fireside Blues – Repeat'. When she looked back down at the two figures before her, she found his dark eyes looking back at her. He smiled.
"She woke up a couple of hours ago," David whispered quietly. "We didn't want to wake you."
"You're going to turn her into a daddy's girl, you know that?" Gabrielle smiled.
"Absolutely," David grinned sleepily.
Gently, Gabrielle lifted the slumbering infant to her chest. Xena gave several small, noises before settling back into innocent dreams.
"Come back to bed," Gabrielle said. She carried the baby back into the room and laid her back down in the wooden bassinet, making sure she was comfortably tucked into the blankets, while David grabbed a rag and pulled the small door open on the steel heater. He added several more, smaller logs to the glowing embers and resealed the panel. After a few minutes, the soft flames came back to life and the warmth began to fill the room again.
They climbed back beneath the blankets and Gabrielle snuggled up on David's shoulder.
"You don't always have to get up when she does," Gabrielle said, smiling.
"Sure I do," David replied, looking over at the bassinet. "How else am I going to get her on my side?"
Gabrielle also glanced over at the tiny sleeping form and smiled. "I still can't believe it."
"Which part?" David chuckled.
"That we have a family, for one," Gabrielle sighed. "And that she's actually Xena, reincarnated. I mean, I knew we would be together again, someday. I just can't believe I'm going to raise her?"
"You sure it's her?" David asked.
Gabrielle nodded. "I saw her eyes when I came in and found you two." She sighed. "I'd know that look anywhere."
"What look?" David asked, looking down at her.
"The 'why are you bugging me in the middle of the night' look," Gabrielle laughed. "I used to get that all the time, when I'd be looking up at the stars and talking to her. Especially when she wanted to sleep."
She was silent for a moment. "I wonder how much she actually remembers?"
David shook his head. "I don't know." He smiled ruefully. "But if she ever gets her hands on the chakram, hanging in the living room, I'm sure we'll find out."
She laughed and kissed his cheek.
David grinned. "We did good."
Gabrielle smiled. "I think so." Then she raised herself up on her elbows and looked at him seductively. "Wanna do it again?"
David chuckled softly. "We might wake her up again?"
Gabrielle sank down towards him. "We'll be quiet."
After three long months of dealing with a bout of post-partum depression, and a complete lack of physical attention while she healed, David didn't bother to try and dissuade her. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway.
The next morning, the chill refused, for the most part, to dissipate. David rose early, as was his custom, and did a quick check of the barn and surrounding area. Everything looked undisturbed.
When he came back into the house, Gabrielle was emerging from the bedroom with the baby in her arms.
"How you doing?" David asked.
Gabrielle smiled. "She's hungry."
She seated herself on the sofa and began nursing the baby.
"I can see that,' David nodded, smiling. "How are you doing? After all, we were a bit out of practice last night?"
Gabrielle smiled. "I'm fine. You going into town?"
David nodded. "Yeah, I want to see if that shipment of lumber made it in. If I can catch the wagon before it unloads, then, maybe, I can have him deliver it here. It'll save me from borrowing Beltanus's wagon again."
Gabrielle nodded as David grabbed his coin purse and bag. "You want me to pick up anything?" He asked.
Gabrielle considered for a moment and shook her head. "No, I think we've got everything we need. Still pretty cold out?"
David nodded. "I think we're in for an early winter. It's got to be close to freezing, and it can't be much past the beginning of October?"
He did a quick check to ensure that there was enough firewood in the house, then kissed her dutifully and departed.
He noted the gentle silvery sheen covering the vegetation as he walked. The air had a frosty bite that tingled on his nose. All the usual summer smells seemed subdued. He sighed and watched his breath expand in a thin white veil from his mouth and nose.
He would need to check the vegetable garden when he got back. Hopefully he could salvage some of the food they were growing to carry them through winter, otherwise he would have to rely on the stored supplies, which consisted mainly of venison.
He was going through his mental inventory as he passed into the Eastern gates of Poditea proper, satisfying himself that there would be enough stocked grain for the animals, and themselves. His thoughts were interrupted when he approached the main trading house in town. Normally, there would be a small crowd of local merchants there to claim their wares. Today, however, the large, squarish building had a larger than usual crowd gathered in front of the big double doors.
A quick scan of the people and he spied his new brother-in-law, Beltanus, the local innkeeper, standing near the back of the crowd. His expression was dark, and his arms were folded across his chest.
"Morning, Bill," David greeted as he stepped up next to the elder man. "What's all the fuss?"
Beltanus gave a little grunt of disapproval. "Delivery didn't arrive yet."
"That's unusual," David replied. "Old Aiden's been doing the run between here and Corinth forever. He has it down to a science?"
Beltanus nodded. "I got four casks of beer on that load. I don't get it and it'll be water only at my place?"
"Has Palos said anything yet?" David asked, gesturing to the closed doors. Palos was the man who owned the warehouse. He had a reputation of being honest in his dealings, almost to a fault. For him to have his doors locked on a day when he should be conducting business was a sure sign of trouble. It was also completely unheard of.
"Been locked up in the warehouse since early morning," Beltanus said. "I heard a rumor that one of Aiden's helpers made it into town early this morning, but I didn't get the details."
"How many wagons?" David asked.
Again, Beltanus shrugged. "The orders before winter can be larger than the rest of the year, merchant's stocking up on raw materials, kind of like you?" Beltanus offered David a wry smile. He shrugged again. "Three or four wagons, probably?"
Beltanus leaned a bit closer. "Rumor is robbers."
David smiled. "You know what I think of rumors, Bill."
Beltanus shook his head. "Just my thought, that's all."
"Well," David looked sidelong at the innkeeper. "Let's keep the thoughts to ourselves until we know for sure. No sense in causing a bigger issue."
After a few long moments, the portly shape of Palos edged out from between the two massive doors. His expression was one of consternation and his hands wrung nervously as he face the crowd.
"I'm sorry to say," he announced nervously. "That we believe the caravan bound for us has been struck by robbers."
A chorus of groans rolled forward as the people all looked up or down angrily.
Palos raised his hands. "Of course, everyone who prepaid for their goods will, of course, have their money refunded."
That statement alleviated some of the anger, but not all of it.
"I have also dispatched a courier to Corinth, requesting that the goods be replaced, however, it could be several weeks before they arrive in port, and by then, the transport might be more difficult, since we will be in the first part of the winter season."
Again, more groans.
"I'm sorry, everyone," Palos said sincerely. "Of course, I do have some limited stock available here, and I will make that available as I may, but?" He held his hands out helplessly. "We all know that I won't be able to meet all your orders."
"Told you it was robbers," Beltanus said smugly, though he was as disappointed as the others.
David waived his brother in law of and cupped his hand to the side of his mouth.
"How did you find out about it?" he called over the chorus of groans. That brought an immediate and expectant silence to the crowd. Eyes turned to look at David and then back at Palos.
"One of Aiden's associates arrived this morning. He's currently receiving medical attention from Mistress Godea. AT the moment, all I know for certain is that the wagons were waylaid by robbers. The where and when, I cannot say?"
"I thought a group of village soldiers was supposed to meet the wagons on the way here?" Another voice called from the crowd. David saw the tall, rail thin figure of Garson, the Miller, his thin hands planted firmly on his hips.
Palos shifted uneasily. "That is another matter that I will be taking up with the Village Guard today?" He looked at the people and sighed. "I'm sorry, everyone. I simply don't have any answers for you. As soon as I learn something, I will do my best to let you all know. In the mean time?" Again, he shrugged.
Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, except for several of the more prominent vendors.
David tapped Beltanus on the shoulder.
"He's holding something back," He said knowingly. "Let's see what more we can get from him in private?"
"Fine by me," Beltanus agreed. "Don't have anything else to do at the moment."
David and Beltanus edged closer as the majority of the crowd departed.
David clasped forearms with the miller. "Let me guess? Corn or wheat?"
Garson laughed. "Both, this time." He sighed. "Granted, getting my money back is a good gesture, but I can't eat silver?"
David shrugged. "Well, worst case scenario I got a fair amount of venison stashed for the winter? It might get old before the rest of our stuff arrives, but it'll be better than nothing?"
Garson smiled. "I appreciate it, David. But I'd rather get my stuff together. You can't feed the whole village, you know?"
Beltanus smiled. "What's the penalty for poaching, out of season?"
"At this point," David mused. "Who cares. If the village magistrate doesn't bend the rules after this, then he won't get an invite to Yule?"
The two men chuckled appreciatively.
David knocked on the big doors. One of them slowly opened, revealing a still very nervous Palos.
"Look," he said sincerely. "I told you all. I don't know any more?"
"Relax, Pal," David said with a disarming smile. "We're not here for a pound of flesh. We just thought that the four of us could put our heads together and find a way out of this mess?"
Palos looked at the three men for a moment and then pulled the door open further to allow them to enter.
It was immediately apparent that Palos was not exaggerating when he said that he had precious little stock in the warehouse.
OF the gathered corn that was exported to other places, precious few bags remained, bound for Aiden's outward trip, along with several bolts of cloth and several large crates of other finished goods.
"Well," David mused. "The crates don't have anything the village could use for the winter, unless we run short of firewood."
Palos gestured to the stocked bags of grain. "Garson. If you could take the grains to your mill and grind them down, that would give enough flour to help for the immediate future, at least?"
Garson nodded. "Mill's running a little less efficiently, with the river beginning to freeze over and all, but I might be able to keep it going for another week, or so, provided we don't get a real big freeze?"
Palos nodded. "I'll have my men load it on the wagon and deliver it this afternoon."
"I might be able to shave a bit off my stores for the sheep," David offered. "It'll mean culling two or three, but the extra mutton would be a help too?"
"Boys," Palos said, rubbing his thinning grey hair. "I appreciate what you're saying, but this still won't be enough when the real bad weather hits."
"He's right," Beltanus agreed. "We have over four hundred people in the village, many of them with families. At most, we could stretch it a little past a month. After that, things might get pretty desperate?"
"If it takes six weeks to get replacement goods from Corinth,' David said. "Then we might be cutting it fine, but we could do it?" He looked at Palos, who stood fidgeting nervously. "Right?"
"Uh," Palos said. Then he sighed. "Wait here." He disappeared into his small office and emerged carrying several rolled parchments. "You might want to have a look at these?"
They each took one and read, their expressions changing from curiosity to concern.
"Are these accurate?" Beltanus asked, looking back up from the parchment in his hand.
Palos nodded. "None of the villages within fifteen miles of here has received a single shipment. I got these messages this morning. No one has gotten a single shipment of goods and food for the last month."
"But they came out of here?" David asked, handing his scroll back to Palos. "You got a map handy?"
"M-map?" Palos asked.
"Yes, a map?" David repeated. "Preferably one that shows all the towns affected by these bandits and the trade routes that you use?"
"I think I know where he's going with this idea," a new voice said from the side entrance.
They all turned to see a man, dressed in the armor of a professional soldier as he strode purposefully into the building, several large rolls of parchment tucked under one arm. HE was a tall man, lean and sturdy, maybe only a few years older than David, with curly blonde hair and penetrating blue eyes. His rank insignia placed him in the command structure of the village guard, possibly a lieutenant. HE walked towards them, his left hand resting comfortably on the hilt of a short sword of Roman design.
"Ah, Martus," Palos breathed in relief. "Have you learned anything from the man that stumbled into the village today?"
The soldier smiled, but there was no humor in it. "A little." He nodded to the other three men. Then he turned to Palos again. "May we continue our discussion in your office?"
Palos nodded and gestured for the lieutenant to precede them. David and the other moved to follow, but the lieutenant turned back. "Forgive me, but this is to be a private meeting."
David smiled and crossed his arms. "Yes, and now it will be a slightly larger, private meeting, sir."
"I'm afraid not," Martus smiled again.
"Now just a minute!" Garson protested, but David placed a hand, gently on the miller's shoulder.
"Let me see if I can piece a few things together, here, lieutenant," David said evenly. "You're here to go over the routes that Aiden used, and see if you can narrow down any possible bases of operations, probably off the beaten path but still easily accessible. And, I presume you are here to discuss why the contingent of escorts you sent out to meet the caravan has not yet returned, or where they might have run into trouble?"
David smiled knowingly. "How am I doing so far?"
Martus sucked in a breath and fixed David with a stern stare. "And you are?"
"Sorry," David replied, stepping forward and extending his hand. "David Forester, at your service, sir." He clasped the lieutenants' forearm and then introduced Beltanus and Garson.
Martus looked at Palos suspiciously, but the portly trader merely shook his head. "I have said nothing to them, lieutenant."
"It isn't hard to figure out," David added quickly. "And the fact that you've come here in person, tells me that you also have an issue. Logic dictates that the issue must be the men from the security detail, sent to meet the caravan. Since you are here to speak with the man who coordinates these things, I can only assume that those men are also missing?"
Martus looked at David for a long moment, as if sizing him up as a potential adversary, and then he nodded. "Very astute, Master David. Yes, the patrol sent out to meet the caravan has not reported back."
David nodded. "Perhaps an untrained, non military eye might see something?"
"It can't hurt," Beltanus added quickly.
"And, in any case," Garson finished. "We aren't going anywhere?"
Martus considered for a long moment and finally relented. "Very well, follow me, please?"
The five men entered the small, tidy office and stood around Palos's simple desk.
The trader quickly cleared several papers and other items from the desk before Martus unrolled a large map of the surrounding area.
"Very well," Martus said in a professional voice. He gestured to the map and began pointing out what he already knew. "As you know, there are four major routes in this area, with Poditea as the central distribution point for several other, smaller villages in the region. The northern route is the main artery that leads in from Corinth, while the three other routes lead to the east, to a series of small fishing communities, south to a group of inland farming homesteads, and west to the quarries and lumber areas. In each of these areas, there are little or no established permanent dwellings. Each area depends on supplies from the other routes, and from Corinth in order to continue operating. Textiles, food, and building materials all pass through here in both directions on a regular basis, while most of the workers actually live in and around Poditea."
David absently rubbed at the scar over his left eye as he studied the map.
Martus sighed. "As of this morning, we have received no word from the coast, and the western and southern regions have been clamoring for supplies."
"Which were sent?" David asked.
"Just like always," Palos nodded.
"Do we know the order of the robberies?" Garson asked suddenly, eyeing the map intently.
"What difference would that make?" Palos asked.
Garson looked up at the trader with a keen glint in his eye. "Because, if the coastal settlement was the first to be hit, then we might have foreign invaders on our hands. If the inland settlements, it could be local brigands. That's why."
The miller looked at Martus and smiled. "I served with the Phelix Legions under General Meridius."
The Lieutenant nodded and pointed in quick succession.
"Quarry settlement, then the southern farms, and lastly, the Coastal group. In that order."
"And then they intercept the shipment here," Garson finished. He placed his finger on the Quarry and drew a line straight north to the lowland hills. "That means that they probably came down out of the mountains, here, did a quick circuit of the area, and finished off hitting the biggest shipment for Corinth."
"If they can keep the roads closed," Martus added. "In about a month, we'll be starving and too weak to mount a decent defense."
"While they gorge themselves on our foodstuffs, and my ale," Beltanus growled angrily.
David considered for a few more minutes before nodding. "Are you planning on sending another scouting party?"
The lieutenant nodded. "They're preparing to leave now."
"What did the survivor say about the attacks?" Garson asked.
Martus shook his head. "Nothing specific to identify them. Only that they attacked last night, and that they were very swift and very fierce."
Garson nodded again. "Hard to draw a weapon when you're huddled in a blanket against the cold," he said. "And the darkness would provide them with cover to get right next to the caravan without being seen."
David shrugged his coat off and handed it to Beltanus. "You got extra gear in the weapons store?" he asked the lieutenant.
"Yes," Martus replied, frowning. "Why?"
"Set me up with local gear," David smiled. "I'm going with them."
"Do you have any martial experience, sir?" Martus asked.
"What?" Garson replied. "Are you new here, or something?"
"What's wrong with your regular gear, David?" Beltanus asked.
"I don't want to draw attention to myself," David replied. "If we're dealing with an outside group, they might not know about me. I'd like to keep it that way." HE looked back at the lieutenant. "Well?"
"We have five volunteers to ride out on the road to Corinth and see what they might find." Martus replied.
"Then let's make it six, shall we?" David replied. He followed the lieutenant toward the door.
"Uh, David?" Beltanus called after him. "What am I supposed to tell your wife?"
David turned back and smiled. "Tell her I went on a field trip." Then he vanished through the door.
Garson smiled and looked sidelong at Beltanus. "You know why he did that, right?"
Beltanus slung the long coat over his shoulder and grumbled. "Yeah, I know. If he asked, Gabrielle would either try and talk him out of it, or drop my niece off at our place to go with him."
"She's not going to be happy," Garson patted his friend on the shoulder.
Beltanus frowned as they exited the building. "Lila and I both knew that the two of them would drive each other mad," he sighed. "I didn't expect that they would take my wife and I right along with them."
"Good luck," Garson bade, and then he went off towards his mill.
"He did what?" Gabrielle said from her seat near the fire. In her arms, Xena looked up at her mother with big, inquisitive eyes.
Beltanus folded the coat and hung it over the back of the nearest chair.
"They're just going to look about," he stammered. "See if they can find the stolen goods? HE should be back by sometime late tonight?"
Gabrielle's eyes went like frozen seawater as she sat there, stewing. Something in the expression must have seemed amusing to Xena, because she giggled suddenly.
Gabrielle smiled and tickled beneath her daughters chin.
"Yes," she said in a cute voice. "It's funny, because when he gets home, as your father likes to say – I'm going to kick the ever loving shit out of him."
Again, little Xena giggled, and Gabrielle swore for just a moment, that she saw complete recognition in the infants pale blue eyes. It was a depth of knowledge and wisdom that didn't belong in the innocent face of a child.
Gabrielle looked at her daughter for a long moment and smiled. "It really is you, isn't it?" she asked.
Again, Xena giggled and writhed happily in her mother's arms.
Gabrielle's anger melted into wonder as she looked at the tiny form in her arms, then she smiled. "Okay," she finally admitted. "I'll just hurt him a lot. You shouldn't lose your daddy too soon, right?"
Once again, little Xena squalled happily, bringing a smile to Gabrielle's face.
The six horses moved easily down the main road, the riders each scanning the surrounding land for any threatening movement. AS the sun reached the hour of about one in the afternoon, they came upon a haunting scene. The ground along and on either side of the road was stained crimson with blood – lots of blood, but no bodies could be seen. Even after the men had dismounted and done a quick search, they found nothing.
"I am definitely not liking this," David commented under his breath. They mounted again and continued down the road. In his mind, David knew that they had to be close to the caravan. Any party big enough to take the caravan and still contend with professional soldiers had to be near to the primary target.
Sure enough, less than an hour later, they saw, through the trees, the first of the four wagons, resting patiently on the road. As David surveyed the scene, he caught a flash of movement near the rear of the vehicle. He held up a hand to stop the others and then motioned for them to dismount. While one man remained behind, holding the reigns of their horses, the remaining five crept slowly through the trees towards the wagons. David drew out the bow he had borrowed from the town's weapon take, and notched an arrow to the string. The other four men did the same.
The figure moved again, vanishing behind the wagon. He was a thin, balding man in a simple oversized cream colored tunic and worn sandals.
David motioned for two of the guards to circle around the front while he and the remaining men went around the back.
The five men fanned out and came around the wagon to find the man, crouching near the wheel, wrestling with something.
"Stand fast!" One of the men shouted quickly as they surrounded him. "Don't move!" Another one added quickly.
The man froze for merely an instant before leaping to his feet and diving at the nearest soldier. That man's arrow whistled off into the trees. He grappled with the stranger and then his partner and he wrestled the man to the cold, damp ground.
The third soldier stood over the prisoner, bow tense.
"Don't move!"
David stepped up and pointed his arrow at the man's throat. "No, please," he smiled. "Try to move. Please, try to move."
The man looked at the weapons and men arrayed about him and went limp. He looked at them all with a knowing smile and an unusually penetrating, almost feral gaze.
He opened his hands in a gesture of surrender.
The two men hauled him to his feet and bound his wrists behind him with thongs.
David studied the man for a few second. His eyes were dark brown and penetrating, his face rugged and angular with a hint of stubble at the cheekbones, covering the lower half of his face. His balding head had traces of hair at the sides, the color might have been a light brown, or something darker that was going gray. He looked to be in his later thirties or early forties, though his build was that of someone younger and much more fit.
"What are you doing here?" one of the soldiers demanded. "Who are you?"
The man simply looked at him and smiled a completely nonchalant grin, tainted with barely perceptible scorn, but made no reply.
"Who are you?" The soldier demanded again. "And what are you doing here?"
Again, the man remained silent. He simply stood, looking at them as if he were burning the images of their faces in his mind.
David sighed.
He pointed at the two guards flanking the prisoner. "Keep an eye on him," he instructed. Then he put two fingers to his mouth and gave a long whistle. Instantly, the sixth man came up with the horses.
David looked back at the line of four abandoned wagons. He and the other soldiers began a quick inspection.
"We have only a short time, boys," David announced. "Check the area and get the horses hitched up. At least we'll get the wagons back to town."
The condition of the caravan was grim. Three of the four wagons were serviceable; the fourth had a broken axle and would not move without major repair. On each of the wagons, a similar story was told.
Blood spattered the sides and wheels, staining the surrounding ground. Footsteps covered the muddy earth, but did not make it more than a few feet from the sides of the wagons. Indentations and large pools of crimson, muddied earth showed where men had fallen. All of the tarps that had covered the cargo were shredded, not just cut, but rent, as if by claws, and the cargo was gone.
David frowned as he studied the surroundings, a cold knot of dread forming in his belly.
One of the other soldiers echoed his private thought.
"Sir," he asked nervously. "Where are the bodies?"
David shook his head. Then he looked back. "Hitch them up and let's get out of here. Nestis, Icarbe, drive the other two wagons. Nuris, ride with the prisoner. The rest stay on horseback. If we get ambushed, don't stick around. You ride hard for home and tell them what's happened."
David climbed onto the bloodstained seat of the lead wagon and grasped the reigns.
"Let's move out!" He ordered, and he snapped the long leather reigns gently on the horses flank. The carts lurched off back towards Poditea.
They returned to Poditea with several hours of daylight left. When the people saw the empty wagons, they groaned in resignation, but said very little.
During the entire journey, the enigmatic prisoner in the second cart had not uttered a word. Indeed, he had barely moved. He simply lay on his side, his eyes studying his watcher with intense curiosity.
Nuris, a young man of twenty years, with dark brown, curly hair and sharp blue eyes, refused to look the prisoner in the eye for more than a few seconds.
They caravan reached the headquarters for the village guard and dismounted.
Martus came out and smiled with relief to see his men back safe and sound.
"You must be good luck?" he said to David.
David smiled wryly. "I've never been accused of that before."
Two men came out and took the prisoner into the jailhouse.
Nuris stepped up to David and Martus, shifting nervously.
"Trouble?" Martus asked him.
"No, sir," Nuris replied. "Just don't ask me to guard him again for a while, if you would?"
"Why?" David asked.
"I don't know," Nuris replied. "The whole way home, he never spoke a word. He just watched me, and I felt like, I don't know, like I was being sized up for a meal?"
Martus nodded. "Take the rest of the men and get something to eat. We'll keep an eye on our guest."
"Thank you, sir," Nuris said with relief. The five men guided the horses back to the stables and then departed.
"Well?" Martus looked back at David.
David sighed. "The wagons were cleaned out when we arrived. One of them is still out there. None of the goods being transported were there. The wagons were completely cleaned out."
"Dead?" Martus continued.
David shrugged. "Whatever hit them was fast and efficient. It didn't look like anyone got more than a few feet from the wagons before they were cut down. The young man in Mistress Godea's care was a lucky one, that much is certain."
Martus nodded.
"One other little bit," David continued. "There were no bodies to be found. None of theirs or ours?"
Martus frowned. "I can understand taking the goods, and their own fallen. But why take ours?"
"I don't know," David confessed. "Though I might have an unpleasant theory?"
"I think I know what that theory would be," Martus held up his hand. "Say nothing of that just now, please?"
"No problem." David sighed and began working at the fastenings on his breastplate and belt. "If you don't mind? I need to get back home to the wife. I have a feeling I'm in for a lashing?"
"Of course," Martus replied with a faint smile. "May I call upon you again, if needed?"
David almost smiled eagerly. "Absolutely."