Dagger of Souls

*** Chapter 14 ***

The knight of Tyr jumped to his feet at the urgency in the voice of the soldier that just burst into the healer's cottage. "What's going on Bandon? Report!"

The young, lanky soldier took a second to catch his breath from the long sprint to reach his superior officer. "The orcs are almost here. A man that was taken from this village, Gansen, escaped the orc prison camp. He said he followed a raiding party and then when he recognized his location he took a shorter route to get ahead of them and warn the town. They have a large force of about fifteen warriors including one of their leaders, who he claims is one big, nasty son of a pig's bottom."

Dural might have found the description amusing if it weren't for the dire situation they were in. The sergeant did not like the news, but kept a stony expression of calm reassurance with the soldier, not allowing the worry he was feeling to show. "Get everyone to the defensive positions as we discussed, and find Keltar and apprise him of the situation."

"Sir, Tagrus already went to find him and give him the news."

Dural nodded, "Very well. Tell Wylan to get the villagers to the safe area. Follow the plan and we will prevail with righteous justice on our side. You are dismissed."

The soldier ran his fingers through his short cropped dirty blonde hair as he listened to the instructions, then gave a salute, spun on his booted heel and left the healer's house. The knight stood and watched the young man who has yet to see even twenty winters as he walked outside. They were outnumbered more than two to one and the six soldiers were hardly life tested much less battle-tested, which gave him some substantial concerns.

Cera moved up next to the paladin and pulled her deep blue robes closer around her as she pushed a strand of brown hair from her face. She seemed to sense his trepidation. "I suppose Hadenna's house will be filled up again," she commented in a low voice so that the girls couldn't hear her.

The sergeant tried to mask the worry in his eyes. He knew there would be a good chance of casualties and even deaths. He watched many of his comrades-in-arms fall in the Amnish War and it was never easy and no matter how much he wished it, he couldn't protect everyone. He found that the hardest thing to get over after a battle was questioning if there was more that could have been done. If someone began to question themselves and become indecisive in the next confrontation, they would end up the next one to meet their deity. He had seen that happen too many times, and was at least able to glean some wisdom from others that made that same tragic mistake. "Cera, we have a good plan and the villagers should be safe. We have wisdom and righteousness on our side."

The priestess knew he was trying to comfort her, but she knew the odds as well as he did. She wondered silently if one of these men she was just coming to know and accept as friends would end up dead. She pushed the thoughts away and focused on what needed to be done. "I will put on my armor and get into position."

Hadenna came out of the kitchen area holding a couple of platters of food. "I heard some other people talking in here. Do we have more guests?"

The sergeant sighed, "Hadenna, you need to get yourself and your girls to the town leader's cellar. There may not be much time."

There was fear in her sparkling light brown eyes as she looked over to her two teen-age children. She put the plates down on the table by the kitchen door, knowing full well heading to the safe area meant the orcs were coming. "Yes, of course. We will go there right away." She cut the leg from the roasted chicken and handed it to the paladin. "Take this and eat on your way."

"That is very kind of you." Dural was not going to argue and could use the energy. He took the piece of chicken and headed for the door after taking a large bite of the food.

Cera hurried into the bedroom and put on her fitted steel chainmail armor and steel greaves. She emerged from the room several minutes later and grabbed her boots from the hallway. The healer was waiting for her and cut the other leg off of the roasted chicken and walked over and offered it to the priestess. "Now don't you run off and starve either. Take this." She placed the plate of chicken on a small table by the door while Cera laced up her boots.

The priestess stood up and threw the winter cloak around her shoulder. "I really appreciate your generous hospitality."

Hadenna shook her head emphatically. "No, dear. It is our village that owes you a debt of gratitude for helping our injured people. I also want to thank you for your wonderful company and for entertaining my little ones." The woman gently clutched the priestess' elbow in her slender hand. "Please be careful."

Cera smiled as she clasped the healer's hands. "You keep yourself and your two beautiful daughters safe. Get them to the safe house quickly." The priestess grabbed the drumstick as she opened the door and headed out and down the snow covered dirt road.

* * *

Sir Dural met up with his most senior soldier Wylan as he walked across the small hamlet. He was talking with Bandon until he noticed the paladin. "Seargent, I will take you to the Gansen, the escaped prisoner. Bandon will go and make sure all the villagers get to the safe house."

"Let's get going then, we must make haste."

Wylan motioned with his hand pointing down the road and began to walk. "This way, sir."

The paladin followed his soldier down the muddy, snow covered road. He felt much more secure with his armor on and his steel shield strapped to his arm. It was time to find out the courage of his new companions and the inexperienced soldiers assigned to him. The veteran warrior looked up to the sky and was glad that there was no snowfall to obscure the orc raiding party's approach.

Wylan stopped once they found the place where he was told the escaped prisoner was resting. "This is it."

Dural and the young soldier entered the small wooden shack and scanned the room. A man sat down shivering beside a small hearth, another older villager with stringy gray hair sat next to him. He noticed the escaped prisoner's bare feet were blackened from frostbite and the sight of it made the chicken he ate churn in his stomach. The older man who sat with Gansen had thick blankets wrapped around him to try and raise his body temperature.

The paladin stepped over close to the two villagers. He put a comforting hand on the prisoner's shoulder. "Gansen, I am Sir Dural, a knight of Tyr sent here to help you and your people. I need to ask you some more questions to help us defend your town from these invaders."

The man nodded his understanding between shakes. He gritted his teeth and turned to face the paladin. "They're scum sucking, black hearted, green bastards. That's what they are!"

Dural was sympathetic to the man's anger, but needed him to focus on the information. They had no idea how quickly the orcs would arrive. "I need to know which direction they are coming."

"Well, they were heading northeast, walking up a stream last I saw. They seem to be taking a long way around. I'm not sure where they may end up. I guess they'll be coming from the north, unless the circle all the way around to the east."

The sergeant made a mental note of the information. From the previous attacks they seemed to take different approaches to the town each time. Unfortunately, there was no sure way to know where they would come from this time either. "Did this group of orcs know that you escaped?"

The man shook his head. "No. The others setup a diversion after the raiding group had already left so I could get away and try and make it back here to get help."

Dural smoothed his thick, dark mustache where it curved down around the sides of his mouth as he pondered the information. "Can you tell us some more details about their encampment? How many orcs are there in total?"

Gansen took a sip of hot tea that the other villager had brought him and then set it down with shaky hands. "There is another ten to fifteen back at the camp, as well as the orc leader. They are forcing the men they captured to work on building a wooden fortification. The women are taken by a man that comes dressed in black robes. He must be with some powerful people. Even the huge orc leader shows him respect.

The paladin stood stunned for a few seconds unable to even speak. He wasn't sure he heard it right so he asked again. "You are saying that a man, a human, is working with the orcs?"

The escaped prisoner nodded. "It's worse than that. We think the orcs are working for the man, or at least taking orders from him. He could just be a messenger for another orc clan, but I don't know why other orcs would use a human messenger."

Dural shook his head and leaned against the wall as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. He forced the worried look from his face and returned it to the stoic visage that he was trained to display in these situations. He looked briefly to the prisoner and then back at Wylan. "This situation is far worse than we expected. There is something much larger going on that just orc raids if they are building a fortification and taking orders from a human. Their actions are far too calculating for typical orc clans. I suspected there was someone else was behind it all, and this confirms it. We must send for more aid and inform Waterdeep of this new development. But, we cannot spare even one soldier to go back and we have no time to write out a proper report. The orcs must somehow be aware of our presence here. They are coming with enough warriors to put at end to our group or do some serious damage. We must get ready."

He turned back to the prisoner and grasped his arm. "Gansen, you need to head to the shelter and keep out of sight with the others. It is not safe here in this home. We need to consolidate the villagers to one place where we can defend them. I will ask our elf friend, Einlan, to provide you with some parchment and I need you to try and draw a map of where the orc camp is located. I also need someone from your village to ride to Waterdeep and deliver a message to Sir Bromler. He is the head of the paladins at the temple in Waterdeep and will know what to do. He should be able to get Lords of Waterdeep to send more troops."

Gansen spoke up. "I ain't too good with drawin' maps, but I'll give 'er a try. They are about maybe ten to fifteen miles west and slightly north of us."

Dural nodded. "I understand. Just do the best you can. Whatever you can draw up will be helpful. We will need it to go and rescue the other captured men, once we defend the town from this raiding party, and we have to have a map to be able to find their camp." The knight had hoped they would survive the attack with enough men to go after the orc camp, but it was highly unlikely. They would have to wait for reinforcements from Waterdeep.

The middle aged man with long stringy grey hair spoke up. "Sir, my name is Nesroth. I've got a horse and I can deliver the message to Sir Bromler."

The knight cocked his head to glance at the other villager. "This will be a hard, cold ride and the snow may be fairly deep in some places. Are you sure you're up to the task?"

Nesroth folded his thin arms across his chest. "I reckon I got more experience than most of ya at riding in this winter stuff. Besides, ya need the youngins here to help ya fight off them green skins. I'd be less help doin' that than riding me horse. Fern's a good horse and she'll get us there in one piece."

He turned to the other villager. "Thank you, Nesroth. I'm sure you and your horse will do fine. Go and get your horse saddled up and ready to go and meet me at Dervik's place. I should have a short message ready before you arrive that I will need you to deliver to Sir Bromler at the Halls of Justice in the Castle Ward of the city."

The knight put his pot shaped helm and then turned to the soldier. "Wylan I need you to help get this injured man to the shelter. Then go get Einlan and ask him to give you some parchment, ink and a quill and take it back to Gansen. After that, go check on the other soldiers and make sure they are prepared and understand their assignments."

The knight left the shack and headed down to the Dervik family cottage where he was quartered. The small place was quiet and empty. The family who volunteered to give him room and board had had already been evacuated to the shelter. He retrieved a parchment and ink quill from his pack and sat at the small table in the common room. The fire at the hearth was just about out but he didn't have time to stoke it. He unfurled the blank paper and began to scribble down a note to his mentor. He filled up the page and looked it over quickly. He added his signature at the bottom of the letter. There was no time to make a formal wax seal with his signet, but the urgency of the letter should explain the deviation from protocol.

The old villager arrived shortly after he finished rolling up the parchment. He grabbed some of his food rations and headed outside to meet him. "Nesroth, do you have everything you need to make this journey?"

"I got everything I need to make it to Waterdeep and back, I think."

The paladin attached the small sack of food rations to the horse's saddlebag. "Here's some extra food just to be sure." He then pulled out several gold coins from his belt pouch and placed it in the old man's saddle bag along with the letter to Bromler. "This should buy you a nice Inn room for the night and to put your horse up and have him watered and groomed properly before you return, as well as buy some more supplies for your trip back to Stalford."

Nesroth's eyes widened at the gold coins he was given. He looked down solemnly at the holy warrior. "I hope your god's be with ya and your men, Sir Dural."

The knight nodded. "Take it easy riding out of the village. Save your horses energy in case the orcs try to stop you from getting down the road, then you can gallop full speed to evade them without the horse getting exhausted. Once you've made it a few miles down the road, ride as fast as you can. Do not stop until you get all the way to Waterdeep."

"I understand. Those buggers won't catch me and Fern here," he replied while patting the palomino horse on its shoulder flank.

"May Tyr's blessing be on you and your journey, Nesroth."