Chapter 25
Pherein found it hard to leave and departed later than he had wanted but the night had been perhaps the most pleasant of his life, certainly the best he had experienced in Latrellus. But he had work to do.
As it turned out, the trio of fighters decided to leave at dusk and travel under the cover of night in case anyone was watching the town. The area they were going to was less than a half days journey, so they thought to seek it in night and confront the kidnappers around first light. Theme Winchell was a skilled tracker and versed in nighttime travel so all were confident this was the best course of action. They would sleep in the afternoon and be fresh for the trip.
That meant his morning was free.
Pherein went back to Lily's cottage after a hearty breakfast. Though unexpected he hoped it would be a welcome visit. He was not disappointed. Lily gave him a spontaneous hug and kissed him on the cheek while Molly practically climbed into his arms. The precocious six-year-old then took him out on an adventure. While the man had hoped to spend more time with her mother, he found the young girl's charms overwhelmed him and so he went along. The fighter had never spent much time with children and in the Delorgan culture that was not a thing they did so he had little experience in this area. Still, he found himself drawn in by the innocent girl's charms and they spent several hours together. When they returned Lily was standing on the porch of her cottage with a contented look on her face as she watched the two return together, making her look even more beautiful. He then spent lunch with them before reluctantly parting ways with a promise to return as soon as he returned. Again, though a simple time, it was one precious to him as was this woman and her family becoming.
Now, having cleared the wall of Grantsbend the trio slipped into the darkness of the woods to the north of the town as the sun dropped below the horizon. Pherein knew he needed to focus. The fighter did not know what they would find and with only three of them and no spellcasters he knew each would have to be prepared to strike hard and quickly. Having gotten a general description of where the bandit camp was from Amon Sul the trio was able to move quickly along animal paths in the general direction of the expected location. As Sanctuary Woods was made up largely of pine trees even though it was late fall and the leaves had turned and dropped. So, in this particular forest the ground was covered with soft pine needs so they could move swiftly after leaving their horses in a small opening at the entrance to the old growth forest. As a result, they were able to enter the general area of their search many hours before dawn, with time to spare. As it turned out, they did not need Theme's tracking abilities. The bandits in the isolated camp several leagues from the town were not practicing noise discipline. Laughter and rowdy talk floated on the crisp night air giving the trio of fighters a clear sense of where they were. Then, coming closer, the light of the fires of the camp could be seen from a distance away.
Pherein called a halt before they got too close to the camp. Now they knew where it was and had time to prepare their assault. The three knelt and huddled up in a tight circle to assess the situation.
"It's too easy," Cony Farr whispered. "It could be a trap."
"No, likely they've been out here for so long they've just gotten sloppy," Theme Winchell countered.
Pherein paused, not answering either but instead listened to what he could hear coming from the camp in the distance. He waited to be sure of his assessment then declared, "No, Theme's right. The conversation shows they are not ready for us or anyone else. Seem like their boss has been entertaining a lady and is down for the night."
"Fine. Then what's the play?" Cony asked, trusting the assessment of the big Delorgan.
"Theme and I strip down of armor and weapons and sneak up to the camp and see what's what," Pherein instructed. Cony, you stay here with the gear. If we get in trouble you be ready to cover our withdrawal. We have several hours before dawn, so we don't need to rush. Let's see the disposition of the bandits and then figure out our plan of attack."
The other two thought that sound so Pherein and Theme stripped down to their clothes and them each melted into the night, using the light of the camp to draw them in. Pherein had gone right, and the other fighter left. He took his time since he was not as skilled at stealth as the other man was and his size made it that much more difficult. Still, he moved carefully and the noise coming out of the camp masked any sound he made. Faster than he had expected he made the edge of the camp and was able to get a good look at it. There were four canvas wedge tents in a semi-circle facing a large open bonfire in the center of the camp. Opposite was a larger wall tent again facing the fire. Two long benches made of split logs were near the fire and a rough wooden table with food and mugs was behind them. There were also several empty poles planted in the ground with two rough upped areas in the dirt on either side that were likely traps. It seemed to Pherein that this was a place where prisoners or hostages would be kept but all were empty. Sitting on the benches looking into the fire and hoisting flagons were three rough looking humans heavily armed. The sound of deep snoring could be heard from the wall tent while two of the four wedge tents were closed. The experienced fighter figured then four to eight in the band. He breathed a low sigh of relief and thanked Latrell for he had to confess he had not given a lot of thought of what to do if the camp had been bigger. As it stood, with the element of surprise he was pretty certain he and the two other fighters could take them. Satisfied with what he saw, Pherein crept back stealthily to their staging area. Theme Winchell came in a few minutes later and each had the same thing to report.
"This is their camp, sure enough," Theme whispered, "and the poles show they had captives here at some point. But there's no one in the area."
"So, they've been moved?" Cony asked, disappointed by the report.
"Aye, likely several times over based on the numbers gone from town and the spots they have to truss them up."
"Which means we have to take at least one, better more, to find out what this operation is about," Pherein declared.
"I think we can overwhelm the ones at the fire," Theme commented. "They've been drinking and will likely be tired. But we know there's at least one big one in the wall tent based on his snores. There's likely some more as well."
"Okay, we go in fast and hard and subdue the three at the fire," Pherein proposed, "and be prepared to bag any others that come out of the tents."
"Or fight them," Cony added enthusiastically as he began to prepare himself for a fight.
"Indeed," Pherein agreed. "This bandit gang is put out of commission this night one way or the other. They end up in the sheriff's jail or dead. There will be no more kidnappings."
The other two agreed so after Pherein and Theme rearmed themselves the trio moved quietly together to the edge of the camp intending to come at the bandits as one, like an iron fist.
Though dawn was starting to peak above the horizon, in the forest it was still dark due to the density of the canopy. The trio of fighters waited another half hour to see if anything changed. It did not so it was time to attack. They crept up as close to the edge of the camp as they could, thankful there seemed to be no indication the bandits were aware of their presence. At a nod from Pherein they struck. The three nimbly leapt up and charged into the center of the encampment. While two of the bandits sat with stunned looks on their faces at the unexpected attack the third, a short stocky man who clearly had orc blood in him jumped up drawing his long sword. But the reaction was too slow and the attackers too fast. Theme Winchell did not stop. He pushed aside a feeble attempt to block his attack and carrying his momentum forward drove his sword through the bandit's chest, the blade coming out the other end. The remaining pair decided they wanted none of the fight so put their hands up in surrender. Pherein and Cony Farr quickly disarmed them and roughly pushed each to the ground. It had gone better than expected and the trio almost relaxed.
Almost.
With a roar the flaps of the wall tent burst open, and an outraged ogre came out. Standing to its full height of just over eight feet, muscles bulging, the warty green creature was clearly surprised but also enraged at what he saw. "Razer, what be this?" the creature demanded.
"Sorry boss, they caught us flatfooted," the gang's second-in-demand answered with Cony Farr's sword at his neck.
"Coward! I'll deal with you after I've taken care of these ones," the ogre leader of the band yelled angrily, spittle coming out of his mouth. Though unarmored the creature did pull a wicked looking two-handed sword with serrated edge out of its tent.
At the same time, another man with leather armor and a battle axe came out of one of the wedge tents. Cony Farr stayed with his sword on the prisoners who seemed to be content to ride this out while Theme Winchell turned to face the axe-wielding bandit. That left Pherein to handle the ogre.
The ogre took his time moving away from the tent as Pherein took a couple of steps forward and adjusted his stance. The green skinned monster was small for its species, weighing in at likely just over six hundred pounds but had thick cords of muscles on its arms and shoulders though the bare-chested beast's stomach looked soft. Scars were all over the shoulder, arms and chests of the beast, a testament to its previous fights at least. The creatures spat green phlegm onto the ground contemptuously and it sneered at the islander accentuating its tusks.
"You and me, Delorgan," the ogre leader Kraarok sneered. "After I kill ye and yer friends I'll be dealing with this lot."
Pherein held his ground, saying nothing, eyes not leaving the hulking beast. Theme and the other fighter had already started to circle each other though it seemed they were giving a wide berth of the others. One of the captured bandits cheered but a swat on the ear with the flat of Cony's blade caused him to settle down.
Kraarok was first to strike. With a yell he came forward with surprising speed swinging his sword like a scythe trying to take off Pherein's head in a quick strike. The experienced fighter was quicker though and shifted back a half step leaning his head and torso back. The blade whistled past giving the Delorgan an opening. Pherein had chosen to leave his shield back in Grantsbend to be able to move easier, so he was using his masterwork bastard sword with two hands. Pivoting and swinging savagely, he hit the ogre right in the ribs. His sword bit in opening a large gash of blood poured out.
Kraarok howled in pain and anger reflexively swinging an elbow back connecting with Pherein's helmeted head. Pherein had been a moment too slow to get out of the way and his vision exploded into thousands of stars at the strike to his head. The force of the blow also staggered him. He retreated several steps to get his bearings and buy time. He took a quick look out of his peripheral vision to see that Theme and the other bandit were trading blows as well. The distraction almost cost him his life as Kraarok came back at him with a high to low chop. The Delorgan just got out of the way of the blow which would have taken his arm off though he did take a glancing blow on the leg that slid down his chain armor and sliced deep into his upper thigh. The ogre used his momentum from the strike to shoulder block Pherein sending him flying back.
Fortunately, the Delorgan had good balance and was able to stay on his feet since Kraarok came right after him. The bandit leader aggressively swung his sword back and forth looking for an opening forcing Pherein to dance out of the way on his bleeding leg. He tried to counterattack but only landed a shallow blow that cut the ogre's chest but took a cut of his own to his left arm. Worse, he realized that on the shoulder block from the ogre he had likely had his shoulder separated since he was not able to swing with any force. That and his head swimming from the head butt he'd received and the loss of blood from the two cuts meant he was beginning to feel faint. Again, on the defensive, Pherein bobbed and weaved out of the way of the increasingly confident ogre's blows. He chided himself only for a moment at the audacity to think they could just walk into this camp and come out triumphant. He had had so much success of late he had lost his natural caution. And it looked like it was going to cost him.
"Come on, Delorgan. I thought ye'd fight better than that," Kraarok taunted.
But Pherein was not done, and he had something to live for now.
The ogre spat on the ground and cursed Pherein who was still moving out of the way of the now slowing beast. He knew he could not match blows with his shoulder so it would need to be a decisive and precise shot since he likely could not weather another hit. All he needed was the right opening.
And then he got it.
Kraarok tried to trick the Delorgan with a wide swipe, but the seasoned fighter saw it coming. When the ogre then pivoted and pulled into a high hammer blow Pherein nimbly sidestepped it. As the ogre's sword whistled past him the force of the blow caused the monster to over rotate giving Pherein the opportunity he had been looking for. Turning his own sword point up, he thrust it into the exposed throat of the bandit boss and up into its brain. With a gurgling sound Kraarok dropped his own sword and tried to grab his throat but it was no use as it began to fall forward, dead before it hit the ground.
Pherein doubled over in pain but delight for only a moment since his focus had been so complete, he did not know what else was going on around him. Swiftly recovering his sword which had been ripped out of his hands when the ogre fell, he swiped it around until he realized Theme Winchell had already dispatched his foe and the other two bandits were still sitting in the dirt by the fire.
Theme came over and handed Pherein an open healing potion which the fighter gladly accepted. Pouring it down his throat, the warm sensation of the medicine working felt good.
"Need another?" Theme asked.
Pherein could only nod but after taking the second offered potion he could stand up and resheath his sword.
"Well done, Delorgan," one of the bandits with an ugly pock marked face declared, clapping. "I really did think Kraarok was going to gut you."
"Enough of that!" Cony Farr cuffed the man on the back of the neck. "We want information so you better talk."
"Happily," the bandit named Razer replied. "I have nothing to hide and no loyalty to Kraarok, especially now that he is dead. If he'd listened to me, we would have been long gone with way more loot."
The other bandit being held nodded his head vigorously and said, "Aye, tis true."
Pherein by now was feeling the soothing effects of the two healing potions and so came over to join the conversation. He would still need to spend some time with a cleric but could manage himself until then. "All right then, why don't you tell us what you've been up to here."
"Have you been the ones taking people from Grantsbend?" Theme Winchell added, cleaning gore off his sword with a piece of cloth he had found.
"Oh aye, we've been doing that for the past few months now and not just in Grantsbend but as far away as Aylesbury," Razer admitted without hesitation. "We've been taking women and children and a few men, but all were humans. Some of the women were of breeding age. Probably we've nicked over a dozen, I kind of lost count."
"So then where are they?" Pherein asked, an unsettled feeling growing.
"I can tell you we'd have made a lot of coin selling them on the black market or ransoming them back. But then, along comes that...that woman! She comes sauntering up out of the woods, bold as brass and asks to have the prisoners. And Kraarok just gives them to her!"
"What woman?" Pherein asked, seeing the sincerity in the bandit's response.
"I know she's the boss' girlfriend and all," Razer continued, "but that makes even less sense. What human girl shacks up with an ogre? I never liked the look of her. She's got evil eyes and a wicked smile. Gives me the chills!" The bandit shuddered at the thought.
Theme looked over at Pherein and gave him a concerned look. This story was getting stranger with each part shared. The Delorgan could understand the confusion as much of this made no sense.
"Still, at least she lets us keep the money and anything valuable we found on the captives," Razer continued, "never seems to interest her. I don't know what she does with the captives, and I don't want to know. Woman gave me the creeps."
"She let you keep anything of value?" Pherein confirmed.
"Aye."
"What's going on here, Pherein?" Cony Farr asked, looking around nervously as if feeling the presence of something. "None of this makes sense."
"You're right," Pherein responded uneasy at what he had heard as well. "Let's get these two back to Grantsbend and let Sherriff Rosk figure this out. I fear whatever is going on here is beyond what we can do."
The other two fighters agreed and so the trio trussed their prisoners up and moved back towards the town in the light of the morning which had dawned bright and clear.
Cony Farr's nervous survey of the area had been correct, but he had been looking in the wrong direction. Right after the group had pulled out an unseen figure moved in the shadows away from them.
