Ch 3.
Drew's thoughts had proved to be correct. The brigands had set a lookout as the trail wound through the foothills. But his luck had smiled. The lookout had not expected that there would be anyone following so soon after his friends, so his watch was very sloppy. he had sat down under a tree whittling a stick with a small eating knife. He had not heard Drew's horse until they were upon him, and he did not get out a shout before Drew had jumped down, grabbed his head and snapped his neck. Drew had let the man slump to the ground, then had searched the corpse, pocketing the small eating knife, a larger hunting knife and a small purse of coins before he dragged the body into the shrubs and covered it with a few loose branches. It would soon be discovered if someone was looking for it, but a passing rider would not see it from the trail. Drew had also discovered a small but powerful hunting bow and a bag of rations propped where the lookout had been sat. He quickly scooped up the bounty gratefully. He had not brought any food with him, but his luck had provided him.
He now quietly chewed on a strip of dried beef as he surveyed the scene below him. The sun was heading towards evening shadows, but he still had plenty of light to see the camp by. He had tracked the riders for most of the day, and as he had suspected, they had ridden deep into the IronBack Ranges. The riders had kept mostly to the gullies, possibly to be certain that magic would not spy them, which made their travelling slow. This was another stroke of luck for Drew; he could stay behind them, unseen, and follow them from a distance without being heard, as the noise of the other riders echoed down the gullies and masked any sound he may have made. When the Riders had found their way to their camp, he had been given enough warning that he could find a spot above the camp where he could spy on them and not be seen.
He took a swallow of water from a waterbag that he had found in the bag of rations. There had also been a half-empty bag of wine, which, he had mused, possibly explained the lack of attention of the lookout. He had put the wine to one side and stuck to drinking water.
From his vantage point, he had an excellent view of the campsite. It was obvious to him that the riders had been planning for some time - the campsite was well situated in the gully, with high cliffs on two sides, a slightly less daunting, scrub covered mountain on the other, which is where Drew had hidden, and the gully fell away to a shallow stream, where the horses were being watered. It would be easily defensible from anyone approaching from either side, and the stream provided a route of escape if both ways were attacked. The Riders had already groomed and watered the horses, and they had been turned out to graze contentedly in the grass near the stream. Even in the approaching shadows, the woman's white horse was easily distinguishable.
He looked back to the camp. The situation was worse than he had feared. The six riders who had been with the woman were only half of the total amount of men he saw down in the camp. Although they were not an official army, they were still remarkably organised, far more organised than he had given them credit for. They had prepared a campfire, and already the smells of cooking were floating through the air. Men had been organised to gather firewood, others were busy filling water bottles from the stream, and he had even seen a man ride in, confer with a couple of people, hand over a package and leave. Right in the middle, seated near a fire, Drew saw the woman. Her white gown was stained with dirt, and she was looking at the ground as if her head was too heavy to lift. Drew suddenly hoped that the riders hadn't drugged her. Rescue would be so much easier if she was able to ride her own horse instead of needing to be carried. He decided to cross that bridge when he came to it.
He weighed up his options in his mind. He could wait until nightfall, then try and sneak up on them one at a time, dispatching them all until he could reach the woman. He examined the idea, then put it to one side. It was a risky option, because if just one man cried out before he could silence them, the others would be alerted. He could wait until they took her to the river and then try to snatch her, but that too would be too risky. He frowned. This would be harder than he thought. It would be so much easier if he could just walk into the camp, announce his intentions and take her away while they were all busy laughing at him!
A smile slowly spread over his face as he considered it. It was such a crazy idea that it just might work!
Drew's thoughts had proved to be correct. The brigands had set a lookout as the trail wound through the foothills. But his luck had smiled. The lookout had not expected that there would be anyone following so soon after his friends, so his watch was very sloppy. he had sat down under a tree whittling a stick with a small eating knife. He had not heard Drew's horse until they were upon him, and he did not get out a shout before Drew had jumped down, grabbed his head and snapped his neck. Drew had let the man slump to the ground, then had searched the corpse, pocketing the small eating knife, a larger hunting knife and a small purse of coins before he dragged the body into the shrubs and covered it with a few loose branches. It would soon be discovered if someone was looking for it, but a passing rider would not see it from the trail. Drew had also discovered a small but powerful hunting bow and a bag of rations propped where the lookout had been sat. He quickly scooped up the bounty gratefully. He had not brought any food with him, but his luck had provided him.
He now quietly chewed on a strip of dried beef as he surveyed the scene below him. The sun was heading towards evening shadows, but he still had plenty of light to see the camp by. He had tracked the riders for most of the day, and as he had suspected, they had ridden deep into the IronBack Ranges. The riders had kept mostly to the gullies, possibly to be certain that magic would not spy them, which made their travelling slow. This was another stroke of luck for Drew; he could stay behind them, unseen, and follow them from a distance without being heard, as the noise of the other riders echoed down the gullies and masked any sound he may have made. When the Riders had found their way to their camp, he had been given enough warning that he could find a spot above the camp where he could spy on them and not be seen.
He took a swallow of water from a waterbag that he had found in the bag of rations. There had also been a half-empty bag of wine, which, he had mused, possibly explained the lack of attention of the lookout. He had put the wine to one side and stuck to drinking water.
From his vantage point, he had an excellent view of the campsite. It was obvious to him that the riders had been planning for some time - the campsite was well situated in the gully, with high cliffs on two sides, a slightly less daunting, scrub covered mountain on the other, which is where Drew had hidden, and the gully fell away to a shallow stream, where the horses were being watered. It would be easily defensible from anyone approaching from either side, and the stream provided a route of escape if both ways were attacked. The Riders had already groomed and watered the horses, and they had been turned out to graze contentedly in the grass near the stream. Even in the approaching shadows, the woman's white horse was easily distinguishable.
He looked back to the camp. The situation was worse than he had feared. The six riders who had been with the woman were only half of the total amount of men he saw down in the camp. Although they were not an official army, they were still remarkably organised, far more organised than he had given them credit for. They had prepared a campfire, and already the smells of cooking were floating through the air. Men had been organised to gather firewood, others were busy filling water bottles from the stream, and he had even seen a man ride in, confer with a couple of people, hand over a package and leave. Right in the middle, seated near a fire, Drew saw the woman. Her white gown was stained with dirt, and she was looking at the ground as if her head was too heavy to lift. Drew suddenly hoped that the riders hadn't drugged her. Rescue would be so much easier if she was able to ride her own horse instead of needing to be carried. He decided to cross that bridge when he came to it.
He weighed up his options in his mind. He could wait until nightfall, then try and sneak up on them one at a time, dispatching them all until he could reach the woman. He examined the idea, then put it to one side. It was a risky option, because if just one man cried out before he could silence them, the others would be alerted. He could wait until they took her to the river and then try to snatch her, but that too would be too risky. He frowned. This would be harder than he thought. It would be so much easier if he could just walk into the camp, announce his intentions and take her away while they were all busy laughing at him!
A smile slowly spread over his face as he considered it. It was such a crazy idea that it just might work!