Farmers & Mercenaries (24 page)

T
he trip had not turned out to be the adventure Arderi Cor had imagined when he buried himself into the supply wagon. After he awoke on the first day, the reality of hunger and the basic need to relieve himself had haunted him relentlessly. The crossing of the mighty Artoc River had left his stomach in knots—the swaying and jerking of whatever craft they had used to cross by had been horrible—and on more than one occasion during his time on the water he feared he would vomit, although he was unsure what would have come from his empty belly.

By the sounds the horses made, I am sure they did not enjoy the crossing either.

He had taken advantage of his time on the water to relieve himself, however, through a gap in the boards of the wagon bed. At one point, water doused the craft they were on and he was sure no one had noticed anything he had done. Later, he had found a sack of dried beef and used that to sedate his hunger. He could do nothing for his thirst, however. By the time the caravan made camp for the eve, he was parched. Luck smiled on him, for late that eve he was able to sneak away from the camp, picking up a skin of water on his way. He spent only enough time away to relieve himself once more, then crept back and into his hidey-hole inside the supply wagon.

The next day, with a good stock of food and water to keep him from the discomfort of the previous one, Arderi stayed in much higher spirits. The boredom of nothing to see or do combined with the gentle rocking of the wagon—up one hill and down the next—kept him napping for much of the journey. Once the troop set up camp for the eve and the men had gone to sleep, he itched to get out and explore his surroundings.

When he moved the sack of grain that served as the door to his traveling home, it shocked him to see so many men awake and walking the perimeter of the small campsite. A dozen men, all armed and alert, paced about, never leaving eyesight of each other.

It will be impossible to sneak out! If I do, I can forget about returning!

Due to all of the activity, he was forced to stay in the shadows of the wagons. Again, he smiled at his luck, however, for the wagons had been placed against a cliff wall in a clump, only a short distance from the main fires. Due to the placement of the wagons, the men guarding the camp had no reason to come near, giving him a dark pocket to move about freely. The eve remained chilly with a strong wind blowing. Soon, Arderi longed for the warmth that lay just outside his reach. The overcast sky, with its low hanging clouds, covered the land like an ominous blanket—dark and unfriendly. Although the fire crackled too far away to provide him comfort, it did cast enough light to make him blind to whatever lay beyond its glowing reach. He could see that the area the troop had chosen for their camp was no longer covered in the tall grasses that surrounded his homeland. Instead, the ground lay hard and rocky.

That explains the rough ride that jostled me about for the last several aurns of the trip.

The part of the area he could see held small barbed plants and an abundance of trees, though these seemed misshapen little things with large thorns. A light drizzle of rain cascaded down. One glance at the sky, and Arderi was glad the wagons had been parked under an outcropping of rock. He crept from wagon to wagon foraging for food. Being cautious to make no sound when he shifted an item, he never lost track of the men who patrolled the edges of the camp. Within moments, the sky released its full fury, and a torrential rain fell. Arderi ducked into the shadow of a wheel as a few of the guarders took cover next to the wagons. Large drops of water pelted the tents that lay scattered about the camp. The wind, constant most of the eve, lashed out with heavy gusts that uprooted anything left in the open, flinging it away into the darkness.

The worst of the storm subsided within half an aurn. Arderi relaxed once the last of the guarders moved out from under the rock and returned to his rounds. Continuing to forage, he came upon a sack of bread. After eating nothing except the same dried meat for two days, he welcomed the change of diet. Wolfing down one, he jammed a second into his pocket. A find of a box of cheese added to his delight, and he placed a lump of that in his pocket as well. The waterskin he had acquired on the first eve was half-empty, even with his careful rationing. He wished he could refill it, except the rain barrels were too far out in the open to afford him the opportunity.

Returning to the cheese box, he pinched off a second lump, sat down in a dark shadow against the rock wall, and nibbled on his prize. He watched the guarders wander about the fringe of the camp and knew he could never slip past them.

Yet, with all the water on the ground, it should not matter where I relieve myself. No one will see a difference.

He sat gnawing on his food and gazing at the drenched campsite. The rain eventually drizzled out and the fresh clean smell that comes only after a storm penetrated his senses. The place became so peaceful he almost forgot he was in hiding. The guarders still alert and vigil at their posts were all the reminder he needed, however. Arderi sat content to be out of his hiding spot and in the open—albeit an open hidden by darkness.

Eventually, I will have to show myself. They cannot send me back now that we are this far out. Wherever
this
is.

A sharp cry burst from amongst the tents, jerking Arderi upright. He lunged for the cover of a wagon. Crawling to the edge of its shadow, he waited to see what caused the alarm. On a small rise across from him, a tent flap whipped open and a man exploded from it. The man stood, breathing hard and looking around as if he meant to kill something. Leaning back into the tent, the man emerged with a sword and scabbard in hand. He buckled it on and stormed away into the darkness. One of the guarders made a half attempt to stop him as the angry man brushed on by.

Arderi sat there staring at the empty tent, wondering if anyone else was in it that may have caused the man’s agitation. Several moments passed without further event, so Arderi slipped back to his resting spot against the rocks. Picking up the chunk of cheese he had dropped in his haste to look at the camp, he brushed it off and resumed eating. His mind drifted through several imagined scenarios as he tried to figure out a way to introduce himself to the group.

I cannot just let them find me here amongst the wagons. They will take me for a thief!

Looking down at the hunk of cheese in his hands, a pang of guilt fanned through him, and he let out a long-winded sigh. A long, low horn off in the distance pulled his thoughts from his stolen food. It sounded like the wail of some injured beast. He wondered if it had anything to do with the man who left the protection of the camp. Stuffing the last piece of cheese into his mouth, he reached over to retrieve his waterskin. As he brought it lazily to his lips, his eyes landed on a peculiar sight.

That tent is on fire!

A flaming arrow stuck halfway through the thick canvas of a tent some ten paces from him. The fire licked its way up the shaft to the fletching, yet failed to ignite the wet material it had penetrated.

All at once, shouts and screams broke the silence. Arderi lurched to his feet. Guarders ran in every direction. Half-dressed men poured from their tents, each holding a weapon in hand. Something huge smashed into his shoulder and drove him against the rock wall. Pain shot through his head as it struck stone, filling his sight with a burst of light. With a groan, Arderi crumpled to the ground, blinded. When his vision cleared, he glanced up at a giant shadowy form rummaging through one of the wagons. Arderi closed his eyes and flung up an arm when something was tossed his way. A pot clanged on the ground and skidded past him.

The thing at the wagon growled and lunged at Arderi. The loud thwack of steel striking wood echoed off the cliff. As the thing drew near, Arderi noticed that whatever the thing was doing, it was not lunging at him.

The thing is backpedaling toward me!

Huge and hairy, the creature’s stench threatened to overwhelm Arderi as he lay cringing on the ground.

A second thwack, and Arderi saw the slim shape of a woman, sword and shield in hand, forcing the creature back, closer to where he huddled on the ground. Thwack. Agony ripped through Arderi as a large foot smashed into his ribs. The beast twisted and tripped. Something sharp dug deep into Arderi’s side and he yelped in pain. Blood drenched his side. Moonlight glinted off the woman’s blade as it snaked out like a silver tongue. A thick, goopy liquid poured over Arderi’s face, and he gagged as the vile substance washed into his mouth and nostrils. As the creature crushed down on him, it forced the air from his lungs under its tremendous weight. A thick pool of mud wrapped itself around Arderi’s face, muffling all sound as his head sunk into the ground. Struggling to turn his head, his lungs burning for a taste of air, Arderi shoved his arms underneath his body. The mass of the creature on his back thwarted his escape. Reaching in and drawing on an untapped bit of strength, Arderi shoved at the rock wall beside him. The creature shifted and slid off. Pushing himself to his elbows, he gulped in air. Sucking a glob of muck into his mouth, it spattered against the back of his throat, and he gagged. Vomit poured from him and he choked on the residue. When he was able to breathe freely, he struggled to his feet. Staggering around the body of the still creature laying next to him in the dark, he sought the edge of the wagons. Leaning on one for support, still trying to clean the mud and gunk from his eyes and nose, he marveled at the sight before him.

The campsite heaved with turmoil.

The clouds had dissipated enough for moonlight to bathe the scene in an unworldly glow—much of the camp lay trampled and destroyed. Tents lay askew—their poles broken and jutting out at odd angles. The logs from the fire had been kicked about—water-soaked coals and half-burnt wood scattered in a wide area around its original location. The sounds of metal ringing on metal resounded in every direction.

A man not five paces from Arderi let out a scream that turned into a gurgle as an axe struck him on top of his left shoulder. Blood sprayed out in a crimson arc. Crumpling to the ground, his lifeless eyes reached out to Arderi.

The creature who had delivered the deathblow stood over the man, howling and yelling in some guttural tongue. Arderi had never seen a creature so massive. The thing must have stood almost three paces tall. Its broad shoulders, covered in strips of leather and hide, rippled with strength. Although Arderi could not make out the creature’s face in the darkness, large pointed ears jutted from either side of its huge bald head. Its axe—so large a strong man would need two hands to swing it—seemed light in the things hand. It spun the weapon around its head and pointed, a string of grunting gibberish spilled from its mouth. Two other creatures ran off in the direction the one with the axe had indicated.

With a flash of steel and a high-pitched yell, the woman whom Arderi had seen earlier, flung herself at the beast with the axe. Her sword came away wet, and the large beast let out a sound that sent shivers slicing through Arderi. The great axe shot down at an angle to cleave the woman’s head in twain. With feline-like speed, she stepped to the side and lunged with her own counterattack. Her small form jerked forward as the creature snagged her sword arm and lifted her off the ground in one swift motion. A sickening crunch sounded, and her limp form tumbled through the air. She crashed a few paces from Arderi, her body sliding across the mud-slick ground before coming to a stop at his feet.

The large man-like creature picked up the axe it had abandoned and stalked over to its victim. Arderi saw its face clearly now, and his legs turned to jelly. A more hideous sight he could not imagine. Bore-like tusks sprouted out either side of its mouth to rise up and surround a flat, pug-like nose. Large black eyes, set low and far apart, rested below an over-extended brow. The wrinkled skin covering its face, blotchy and pale, hung loose down his cheeks and jowl.

It paused when it saw Arderi hovering in the shadows. Opening its maw, it grunted. Arderi recoiled, too frightened to move further. Grunting in what sounded like laughter, it looked down at the woman lying helpless between them. Rubbing a spot on its left shoulder, its hairy hand came away wet with a thick, dark substance. Taking the axe in both hands, it raised it high overhead.

And then it stopped.

All was silent.

The noise and chaos simply ended.

The creature, its face scrunched up as it looked down at the woman with malice, stood like a statue. Glancing into the rest of the camp, Arderi saw man and beast locked in the struggles of life and death all around, yet everything stood still, as if he looked now at a painting. In all the commotion, Arderi had not noticed that a man had been running toward them—toward the creature with the axe. He too stood frozen in mid stride, a blood soaked sword gripped tightly in his hand, his face a mask of concentration.

He looks like the man from the tent, the one who left earlier in a rage.