Hello again everyone, Endleas here.

Jeesh, seems even linking this place to Facebook didn't even get me any reviews. Then again... /sad

Did some re-working on the last chapter, lemme know how it is.

Praise to M.I.A. by Avenged Sevenfold, Voice of the Fallen by Battlelore, and All Nightmare Long by Metalica for tone for this chapter.

Chapter 4: Ambush

The day had finally arrived. Sargon's mind and heart was still heavy from the information he'd received two days prior; the thought that Ragnar could be a traitor was one he didn't wish to entertain. That wasn't to say Sargon liked the noble; the few times they'd met, Sargon had classed Ragnar as petty, unnecessarily brutal, and heavy-handed in his dealings. The two had taken a quick dislike to one another quickly. It was a good thing that they rarely had to meet.

Yet still... Treason? While it was true that Ragnar held his position more on the merits of his family name as opposed to his own, Sargon had a hard time believing that he was capable of treason, if only for the fact that he doubted the man had the courage to do so without some serious backing. Yet that was another issue. The fact that the knight-scouts had gone missing while supposedly under his protection was a worrying one, especially while they had been reporting strange orc and goblin movements. Yet so far as he knew, all these were unrelated facts. It was his duty to see the truth in them.

And it was for that reason that he was here today. Clad in his light armor, a mixture of studded leather, chain, and heavy steel pauldrons, he was now standing in one of Tell Halaf's many stables, saddling his grey mare and slipping his rations into his saddlebags. Yance stood in the stall next to him, doing much the same, though he seemed more reserved than he had been two days past. He hadn't said much following their meeting the Guardians, and it seemed since then that the younger knight's spirits were clouded.

"Yance." Sargon said simply. He smiled slightly as his subordinate jumped slightly in the next stall.

"Yes, Captain," Yance said as he turned around. His expression was as clouded as Sargon had thought. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Are you well? You have not been yourself. The news of Ragnar is troubling you?"

For a moment, Yance didn't answer, but he slowly nodded. "Of course, Captain. The thought of someone in command of a fortress turning traitor... It's worrying, to say the least. Not to mention, I'm a little concerned about the other squad's leader. I don't understand what the Guardians are thinking, sending a man from Tabriz with us on a mission like this."

Sargon secretly mirrored his concern. The sergeant, who had revealed his name to be Paus, had a thick accent that spoke volumes of his origins in Ragnar's domain. Not to mention, he had looked like a shifty bastard; his brown hair was stringy, his dark eyes were sunken slightly into his skull, and some of his teeth had been broken and yellow. Yet at the same time, Sargon had an idea of what the Guardians were doing. He just hoped it was worth the potential risk.

"Lord Kerman understood we would need someone who knew both the countryside and Tabriz Fortress itself. Worry not, Yance. I do not believe we are in any danger."

Yance nodded, his face relaxing into a small smile as he turned around to finish the work on his horse. Sargon could only hope his assessment was correct.

It took them roughly two days to reach the outskirts of the frontier. The ride had been done mostly in silence; the two squads of knights seemed to have little to do with one another. The scenery, however, had been beautiful. Spring had come here, and the rolling hills and valleys of the countryside had bloomed. Trees carrying brilliant green leaves swayed in the wind, and flowers had opened their petals, releasing sweet smells into the air. There had been nothing unusual as the days rolled by; they had seen nothing of possible orc and goblin invasion. The hamlets they passed through greeted the knights with happy smiles and offerings, which sadly, mostly were politely denied.

It was now nearing on the second day. The party of knights had started traversing through more rocky terrain; they were now fully within the Frontier. In another day, they'd likely reach Tabriz Fortress. However, here Sargon began to feel apprehensive; the animals that had been causing happy ruckus all along the way were now strangely silent. Yance seemed to sense this as well. Bringing his horse closer to his captain's, the young lieutenant spoke quietly.

"Something doesn't feel right, sir. The animals are all quiet. The wind is still. I don't like this at all."

Sargon had to agree. "I know. I feel it as well. When we get through this valley, we'll set up camp on the other side. Tonight, watches will be doubled. If there is something nearby, we will be ready."

Yet they came nearer to the large valley ahead, the smell of death began to assault Sargon's nose. His mare snorted as well, letting out a small whinny as it smelled that familiar scent. It didn't take long for them to see the cause; in the center of the valley, there had once been a caravan.

Once being the operative word. The wagons were burned-out husks, and several had become veritable pincushions as dozens of arrows poked from them. Bodies lay everywhere; their blood had soiled the ground in many places. As Sargon saw this, he cursed, digging his heels into his mare's flanks and galloping to the scene of carnage.

"Find any survivors! I want them brought to me immediately!" Each knight in his group complied, yet Sargon's hopes were low. This wasn't the work of bandits; it was much more brutal than it needed to be. Heads, arms, and legs were chopped off of most bodies, even the ones that appeared to have died under a hail of arrows. Yance picked one up and studied it for a moment, then cursed.

"Goblin. These poor bastards were set upon by greenskins. They didn't have a chance."

Sargon uttered a low curse as well. This seemed to prove the reports of goblin and orc tribe movements; yet why this much carnage, and why here? It was a bold move to come so close to a fortress of the Order. Bold, and foolish. Yet suddenly, Sargon heard laughing in the center of the carnage.

It didn't take long to realize who it was. Paus, the man from Tabriz, was holding his face in his hand, chuckling. "Well. I guess those bedamned greenskins did their job well, eh? 'Oo would've thought..."

Ice water poured through Sargon's veins.

"Traitor." Yance growled lowly, drawing his sword from his belt and his shield from his back. Yet Sargon could hear the sound of footsteps... and hooves.

"Horses... It's an ambush! All men, prepare for battle! It's an ambush!" He yelled loudly, drawing his own weaponry. Yet in that moment, everything went to hell.

Arrows whizzed past Sargon's ear as archers placed on the top of the valley's sides began to open fire down on the small party of knights. Several were taken down in the opening volley, letting out screams of pain as arrows smashed through their light armor, dropping them from their mounts. The footsteps Sargon had heard where that of knights; two others were pulled from their mounts as they were suddenly surrounded, hacked to pieces by the knight's merciless blades. Yance, who had begun to charge at Paus, was suddenly fighting for his life against several assailants, some waving boathooks and trying to pull him from his mount, others seeking to kill his horse to bring him down. Several more mounted knights appeared, each carrying long lances as they charged at the few survivors that were left; try as they might, there was nothing they could do to spare themselves from their fates, met on the cruel tips of traitor knight's lances.

Sargon himself had long ago gone into action. His horse let out a scream of pain as several arrows found their ways into his chest and flanks; more then a couple had bounced off of his pauldrons or had been deflected from his shield. His horse met his end by the blade of a traitor knight; Sargon was forced to dive from it, tackling two knights as his mare reared one last time, screaming it's defiance before finally dropping to it's side.

The two knights had been unprepared for Sargon's tackle; both met their end swiftly as Sargon picked himself up and introduced his mace to their faces. Yet there were still far more; Sargon ducked beneath an overhand blow meant to remove his head from his shoulders, returning with a strike to the knee of his assailant with his mace, followed by a bone-crunching up-swing that caught the man right on the chin. That man dropped, but another replaced him, his axe swinging an arc towards his arm. This blow was barely parried by Sargon's shield, but his counter blow was decisive, smashing through the knight's helmet, liquefying the traitor's brain.

Yet Sargon could see that for each he killed, there were two more coming. There was no way to win.

"Yance! Yance! Can you hear me?" He called as two more traitor knights came to challenge him.

Yance's answer was quick; a gladius took off one of the traitor's legs at the knee before he stepped back-to-back with his captain. "I'm here! What will we do, captain?"

Sargon growled lowly. "There's nothing we can do. Retreat now. Warn Tell Halaf of Ragnar's treachery. If they are not given word, the Order will fall!"

Yance seemed about ready to argue, but his sword was knocked from his hand by a traitor knight wielding an axe. This was quickly removed from his possession; Yance's new axe took off the traitor's head with a swift stroke.

"But captain-"

"Do as I say!" Sargon growled as his shield took another blow, answering with a low swing at the sender's knee with his mace.

Finally, Yance nodded. There was a small opening where Yance's axe wielder had been; he quickly took it, running as fast as his armor would allow. Arrows followed his steps, but Yance was always one step ahead. Sargon offered a small prayer under his breath to the Spirit of Light that he came out safely.

Yet this distraction was all the traitors needed. Someone crept up behind Sargon, yet before the middle-aged knight could do anything to address this new threat, he felt sharp pain as the hilt of a sword slammed into the back of his head. He fell without a sound.

When Sargon's eyes finally opened, he saw Paus hanging over him, his broken teeth fixed in a rictus grin. "Ye put on one 'elluva fight, cap." He clapped a couple times. "S' a good thing Ragnar gave us orders to take you alive. I dunno why. But I think you'll be seein' pretty soon, eh?"

Sargon's vision flickered unsteadily. Paus looked to the other knights around him. "Bind 'im, take off 'is armor and take 'is weapon. We got orders to bring this scum to Tabriz." The other knights did as he said quickly, but Sargon could barely even register what was being done to him.

He had failed. He had failed, and now his men had fallen. All under Ragnar's command.

"Traitor..." He mumbled to himself, before the darkness claimed his sight again.