Sardonicus heaved a sigh of relief and placed his sheath containing his claymore against a fallen tree. Quickly he shucked off his back pack and stretched his arms, yawning. He glanced around as his jaw cracked, to the others in the small band of refugees gathered in the clearing in the woods. First his eyes rested on the Dwarf, tending the human woman whose collapse had led to this respite from the constant moving of the previous night. The Dwarf, seemed young to be out on his own but was solidly built and Sardonicus didn't recognize the clan colours that the object of his scrutiny wore. All in blue with gold trim, the clothing was probably once well kept. Now as with the others in the group, it showed signs of what had occurred last night. His hose had a hole in the right knee, his cloak was mud splattered as was his soft leather boots. His armour, which consisted of a simple shirt like steel breast and back piece was similarly begrimed though it had been protected by the large vest that covered it. Under the armour it looked like the dwarf wore a silk shirt, there was a large tear in the left sleeve, Sardy saw as the arm came clear of the cloak as the dwarf pressed his hand to the brow of the woman on the floor. On his back, the dwarf had a backpack, strapped to this what looked like a serviceable battle axe. Around his waist was some sort of leather belt covered in an array of loops, pouches and buckles. Two of these loops, one at each hip, were home to a hand axe.
The woman on the floor, Sardonicus couldn't see too clearly as see was bundled in a large brown cloak. He could see raven coloured hair poking from the hood though.
Sardonicus' gaze then took in the figure of another woman. She was one of the most attractive women Sardy had seen in a long time, though again he thought she looked young, probably not more than 17 or 18 summers old. Dressed in dark leather shirt and matching long pants, she had over this a chin mail shirt with steel greaves, arm guards and a breast plate of strips of steel gave extra cover to her chest. On her feet were a pair of stout walking boots. Waist long flowing reddish brown hair was kept back from her face by a strip of dark leather that matched her clothes. On her back was a small pack. Tied to this, an unstrung short bow and she had the quiver containing the arrows for this resting at her left hip. In her hands was a battle axe whose haft she was spinning in her hands as she anxiously looked to the south and east, whilst biting her lower lip. She must have felt his gaze, because she suddenly jerked her head round in his direction. Sardonicus hurriedly glanced elsewhere.
He eyes lit on another of the group. This one was a halfling. His dark hooded cloak was torn in several places, but hid most of his body. However as the hood was thrown back, Sardy could see his dark hair glistened with oils in the morning light and his skin was darker than the norm for inhabitants of the Isles. He obviously had slave blood in his ancestry. The backpack the halfling was carrying looked rammed full, but the little fellow didn't seem to be struggling with it.
He continued to look around the clearing. Sitting on a log, further to his left was a human looking young man surrounded by about half a dozen small children. Tall and wiry looking, he had short brown hair which didn't quite touch the top of the man's ears.He was dressed in the garb of the Lightbringers, the travelling priests of Llew. His blue open fronted robes with the Eye of Llew on the back, covered a stained blue tunic and brown breeches. He wore soft leather boots. Sardonicus' eyebrows lifted for a moment in suprise, the priest had strapped to each thigh a sheathed dagger and across his chest crossed a bandolier of darts. Despite these weapons, the children seemed to trust him and he was currently stroking the forehead of one of them who was resting against the log dozing.
Not far from the priest, another young woman stood, Sardonicus had deliberately been avoiding looking at. Though not as physically beautiful as the other, she seemed to be making up for it in attitude. Her whole body seemed to demand attention, from the way she had swept back her black cloak to reveal her tight fitting red gown and the rather generous bust line it revealed, to the way she tilted her head in a way that seemed to indicate coyness but could be promising something entirely different. Sardonicus couldn't weigh her up, she looked even younger than the woman with the axe, yet the way she carried herself seemed to portray an experience far beyond her youthfulness. Even now, the events of the night before hadn't seemed to faze her, only a tightness in her mouth seemed to indicate any worries she had. A mouth he had noticed earlier in their flight, along with the auburn hair which fell in gentle ringlets around her shoulders. framing a face distinguished by burning, brown, almond shaped eyes and that heart shaped mouth.
She looked his way, saw him looking at her and smiled, Sardonicus felt himself rapidly reddening, as the smile dispelled the haughtiness in her face that her apprehension had given her and to hide the embarrassment, he spun round to look back at the way they had all just come.
Ulf Guttchurner ran for his young life, the pack on his back not even slowing him down.
The golden loops in his ears chinged quietly as he moved, feeling the rising sun starting to warm the back of his bald head. His powerful arms pumped in time to his little legs as they carried him up the hill. Behind him he could hear the sound of his pursuers, their mounts not as fresh as him, but never the less gaining on him, slowly but surely. Above him loomed the tree line of the woods and possibility of safety. If he reached them, he felt sure he'd be able to lose these blasted creatures. If he reached them.
The sound of the hooves behind them seemed to grow louder, he could now hear them over his own ragged breaths. The slope of the hill was now starting to have a serious effect on him, but the tree line was safer. Then he saw the glint of metal, a reflection off the early morning sun. There was somebody in the trees! Ulf threw a prayer of thanks to any god that was listening and managed to put on a fresh burst of speed. He also prayed it was friends and not enemies up ahead, or if not even friends, people who could help him.
Sardonicus saw the gnome running up the hill almost immediately. Quickly he picked up his sword, unsheathed it and placed the sheath on top of his pack. The blade of his sword, gleamed in the morning sun. He spoke, gently but firmly, his voice a deep sounding, with the trace of a lilting accent, that placed him as having come from somewhere to the north in the Isles.
"Err, people we're about to have company, I suggest ya all arm ya selves or seek cover. I for one am not running any more, time to fight back." With no more than that, he strode back into the line of trees, his armoured form disappearing from the view of the rest of the party.
Ulf was nearing the limit of his endurance but he was virtually there. His hunters were only yards behind him, the horses they rode were blowing hard and he swore he could feel their hot breath on the back of his head. When the warrior stepped out of the trees, he gave a sob of joy. he fellow was tall, even for a human. An armoured shirt of bands of metal covered his torso and shoulders, his lower body protected by a leather skirt. His legs were bare apart from the soft leather boots. The thing that most cheered up the gnome though, was the sword he held in a two handed grip, the blade level with the ground. The blade was longer than Ulf was and looked the gnome hoped the warrior knew how to use it! Then to his suprise, the warrior charged, seemingly straight towards him, yelling a fierce war cry as he did.
Lufka rubbed the last bit of sleep out of his eyes and came to a sudden stop. He had blundered out of the trees and into the midst of what appeared to be a camp of variously armed and dressed people. They all seemed to be at rest, but he caught sight of one fellow on the opposite side of the clearing march into the trees. He didn't catch what the warrior had muttered but a few seconds later a terrific roaring noise came from that direction.
Shaq' il, suprised at how many people were now in the clearing since he'd fallen asleep there earlier, got up and brushed himself down, trying to make himself a little more presentable. He heard what the big armoured guy said, and looked up alarmed. looking about himself, he quickly found a likely looking tree and quickly and efficiently as he could skimmed up it. Once up he found a branch that would take his weight and peered out into the direction the warrior had gone.
Whilst he'd been climbing the tree, the young girl warrior type must have been busy stringing her bow, because he noticed her pass underneath him with her bow in her hands and an arrow nocked. The priest had also left his charges and followed the warrior and the other female, the buxom one was also heading that way. He also noticed another young human had entered the clearing. He was wearing boots, hose, shirt and silk jacket that had all seen better days and was also wearing a baladrana, a hooded travelling cloak that like the rest of his clothes was a mixture of blue and blacks. He had thrown his cloak wide open and was walking into the clearing in a display of friendship, both hands held high, showing he had no weapons. He was also speaking, seemingly asking the way to the city. Two of the elder children that had been with the priest approached him and started gesturing wildly in the direction of that the priest had gone. The seemed to be shouting at him not to go there and telling him all about the night they'd spent running and hiding from unknown attackers.
Shaq turned his attention back to the scene in front of him. Around a dozen or so horsemen were galloping up the hill, the two lead riders merely feet away from the object of their pursuit, a bald headed gnome. The warrior from the clearing had left the trees and was running at full tilt, holding his sword in a two handed grip, straight towards the lead horses. The gnome swerved to one side, which probably saved his life as the rider closest to him attempted to skewer him with the long spear he held as if it was a lance. The warrior on foot closed the distance with a leap, swinging his sword, blade parallel with the ground as he did, in an arc which brought him a full circle round. The rider tumbled off his horse, blood spraying from his mid section as the sword bit through mail. flesh and bone. He landed with a crunch on the ground and didn't move again. The other rider that had been chasing, was desperately trying to pull up his mount as he over shot both Sardonicus and the gnome. He was virtually into the trees when an arrow thunked into his chest. He let go of his reins, clutching at the shaft, and he too toppled off his horse and onto the ground.
Shaq looked down, the arrow had come from the young girl warrior who was preparing a second , the priest had also reached the tree line, the other woman just a few feet behind them. She began to take off her backpack as the young man began to speak, his voice ringing out clear and suprisingly deep, in the morning air.
""Llew, Bringer of Light, protect thy servant by causing a flash of the sun's light to stun these attackers, Amen" he said and pointed at the mob of riders now approaching. A bright light appeared for an eyes blink of time and four of the riders threw hands to their helms. Their mounts must have been affected too as they stopped running and with loud snorts and neighs dropped to the floor. All the horses and two of the riders lay still, two of the others began rolling to their feet.
The woman in the robes had finished removing her back pack and had hitched her tight gown to mid thigh, revealing she was wearing black thigh length boots. The bit of flesh she now revealed above these, on her left thigh at least, was home to a sheathed dagger. She produced some white fluffy material from a pouch and sprinkling it into her right palm began to chant,
"This spell I will weave, to mislead thee and deceive, Then thee will believe, What I want thee to see, By the count of one, two, three as I will, let it be".
Then facing forward, as if blowing a kiss to her lover, she took a deep breath and blew the material off her palm. |
