Chapter 10 - Ambori of Threeapples Vale
Wet snow dribbled down the bard's face. Or is that be up? he asked himself absently. It was hard to make that sort of distinction while hanging upside down from the branch of a tree. His ankles had begun to throb painfully, needing a break from the constant strain of having all his weight pulling.
He looked -up?- at his colorfully flamboyant clothing and noted with dismay that it would take hours of effort to get them clean. His yellow and orange striped pantaloons were stained with Sunraider blood, effectively ruining the pattern. His mismatched boots, one black the other brown, were slowly being wrecked by the rawhide cord wrapped about his ankles.
His quilt-like, patchwork jerkin was torn in places and his matching purple cape had been torn off his back. That neck clasp will surely need to be replaced. And, if that all wasn't bad enough, his wide brimmed, bright green hat with the red feather plume was half buried in a snow bank just below his head, a dirty footprint smeared all over it.
No doubt about it, he thought to himself. This just isn't my day.
He checked on the lone Sunraider guarding him. The man was heavyset, but not terribly large. Going by the pudginess of the man's face, he had the look of an individual who enjoyed his meals a bit too much. The man had a scar along his right cheek that looked more like he had cut himself shaving than anything else.
"Excuse me," began the treed individual after clearing his throat thoroughly. "Can I ask you something?"
The man sighed tiredly and shifted the sword at his large belt. "What is it this time, bard?"
The bard chose his words carefully. "You see, it's like this. I have a slight problem here. You and your... er, associates attacked our caravan just after we'd finished our evening meal. Now during that meal I had the opportunity to consume a great deal of some very fine Torvikan ale. I tell you, it really hit the spot after a long day on the road." The highwayman glared at the bard threateningly, hurrying him on.
"So anyway, you fellows jumped us at a very inappropriate time. Well, that is to say inappropriate for us in the caravan. Obviously, none of us were expecting anything untoward at all, having just gorged ourselves completely on a very fine... "
"Get to the point, Bard! I don't have the patience for this."
The bard nearly stumbled over his words as he spoke. "What I'm trying to say is that, well. I haven't been given the opportunity as of yet to relieve myself from that fantastic ale. And with all of the death and killing, well... I kind of just forgot about it. Until now."
The Sunraider left his perch and stepped up close to the bard, glaring at him dead in the eye. "You gotta pee?" he asked incredulously.
The bard got very red in the face then and looked to the side abashedly. "Essentially, yes." He admitted.
The man laughed harshly then, spraying the bard with spittle. "That's what your pants are for you peacock." He laughed again.
"Actually," continued the treed bard in his flippant tone. "I have a better idea."
The man looked at him amusedly making a motioning gesture with one hand. "And that would be?"
The bard scratched at the back of his head. "Oh, just this."
The Sunraider choked and staggered back, both hands clasped to his throat. Blood spilled out between his fingers and down over his dirty tunic. The highwayman collapsed then to the ground, his breath coming out in a slow and wet gurgle. His body twitched spasmodically several times before finally laying still. Steam rose from the warmth released into the air and billowed out in small clouds from the long gash across the man's neck.
The bard reached up and grabbed for his feet with one hand. In the other he held a bloodied dagger, the one that he always kept sheathed along his back. Just in case.
It took a few seconds to saw through the cord at his feet. When he was finally free, he dropped carefully to the ground and rolled to take the impact off of his knees, wincing as blood rushed back into his abused ankles. Reaching his feet, he replaced the dagger in the sheath on his back before walking over to the corpse. He knelt down beside it and stared into the dead eyes for a long moment. "I saw you kill a small child with a smile on your face, you bastard, " he coldly told the steaming corpse. "That was less than you deserved, but it's all I have time for."
The bard stood up and retrieved his hat and cape from the snow, replacing them on his lean frame. He wasn't an exceptionally tall man. He didn't appear to be very strong or tough but he had a wiry bounce in his legs that was hard to conceal. He had brown hair that was striving to reach his shoulders and bright green eyes. His face was clear and slender with high cheekbones and he looked out of place without a lute in his hands.
Now comes the moment of truth, Ambori, he said to himself. I just hope you're up to it.
Crouching down, lower to the snow, the bard began to creep to the edge of the underbrush to get a better look at the rest of the Sunraiders.
Ambori of Threeapples Vale was no hero. In fact, if anyone were ever to accuse him of being one the bard would probably laugh in their faces. More than once when faced with a violent situation had Ambori simply taken to his heels and fled, taking the better part of valor with him.
But there wasn't anybody else in danger before, he reminded himself firmly. Even if I made it away and found some sort of marshal or something, there's no way that I'd make it back here in time to save those women and children. Ambori sighed heavily, trying not to remind himself that there was almost no way for him to succeed in rescuing those same women and children with twenty or so armed men trying to stop him.
The night was slowly fading as the bard stalked over to the remaining wagon. There were quite a few shadows for him to glide through as he crept. Most of the men seemed to be lounging around their campfire, eating the food that the caravan had been carting into Southmoor for sale. Some were asleep while the others were waiting for their turn in the wagon. With the ladies. The bard clenched his fists angrily. He had become terribly fond of some the ladies during their journey together and promised to make these men pay.
He was approximately halfway to the wagon when he ran out of viable cover. Be it a bush or a snow bank or one of the destroyed wagons. The only thing separating him from the Sunraiders now was roughly fifty or so yards of open ground.
The bard considered his options though he didn't have many. He could slink along the ground until the men finally saw him, which would do little other than tire him out more than he already was. Or he could boldly stride towards the wagon and attack aimlessly, hoping to get lucky. Either way, he'd most likely get swarmed and would die.
I hate not having any good options.
The bard backed away from the scene cautiously. He needed more time to think this through. He wouldn't be able to help anybody if he was dead. He stalked back towards a destroyed wagon and hid behind it. He plotted for several more minutes and still couldn't come up with a better idea.
At that point, Ambori saw two of the 'Raiders leave the fire and walk over to where he'd been hanging. Presumably they were checking up on the guard, possibly even going to relieve him of his post.
Knowing that his hand had been forced Ambori concentrated fiercely, trying to come up with any sort of plan, even a really bad one.
Ah, to hell with it. I didn't want to live forever anyway.
Ambori practically flew back the way that he had come, desperately trying to reach the tree he'd been hanging from before the Sunraiders did.
It was a close race. The 'Raiders could walk in a straight line to the tree while Ambori had to sprint as cautiously as he could in a wide arc, so as not to alarm the rest of the highwaymen. Every ground eating stride that the bard took tired himself out that much more, but he did nothing but increase his speed as he neared.
As it was, they just about beat him there. They were within ten strides of seeing their deceased comrade when Ambori crashed out of the underbrush to their immediate left. The wearied bard leapt at his enemies with both arms outstretch
ed and his colorful cape flapping behind him.
All three men hit the snow in a tangle. The bard managed to roll aside and withdraw his remaining dagger. The 'Raiders reached their feet soon after and regarded their opponent with surprise. That was all the rest that the bard gave them as he rushed forward, swinging his dagger ferociously. The bigger of the two men grunted as he got sliced across the chest. He stumbled back and felt at the wound, reaching for his sword.
The smaller man began to run back to their camp, shouting out the alarm on every step. The big man backed away from the furious bard and drew his sword, a menacing grin on his scarred face. Ambori noted with dismay that this man was easily the largest of the group and was most likely the strongest. He stood at a bit over six feet in height and had arms that bulged even through his long-sleeved tunic.
Ambori took a few steps away from the big man and swallowed nervously, taking a moment or two to catch up on his breathing. "You're a big one, aren't you?" he panted.
The Sunraider laughed deeply. "So I hear."
The bard chuckled slightly himself. "Too bad the ladies would have a hard time agreeing with that sentiment, eh?"
The big man's face got very dangerous looking very quickly. He snarled, charging forward and slicing downwards with his sword.
Ambori dodged away from the sword cut and rolled to the side, scoring a minor cut on the big man's leg as he tumbled past. Unaffected, the big man spun about and reversed the swing, looking to decapitate the smaller bard. The colorfully garbed fellow simply dropped down to his back and watched the sword pass gracefully over top of his prone form.
Enraged, the big man raised up with his booted foot to stomp down on the bard's stomach. Ambori rolled aside, spattered slightly with snow as the big man continued to stomp. The game continued a few moments longer until the big man lashed downwards with his sword. Frantically Ambori rolled backwards, the steel blade slashing through his cape as he reached his knees.
Not wasting a second longer, Ambori slid his feet beneath him a and soared into the air. The 'Raider's eyes widened in surprise as the bard's lithe form twisted in mid-air and both heels caught him full in the face. The big man stumbled back and fell to the ground, his sword still firmly in hand as Ambori lightly landed face first to the snow. The 'Raider was scrambling back to his feet and saw the bard roll onto his back and curl up on his shoulders. With a quick snap of his legs, Ambori arced his back and vaulted up to his feet, knife at the ready.
The big man wiped the back of his hand across hiss bleeding mouth and looked at the bard with new respect. "Nice moves."
The bard shrugged and grinned insolently. "That's what your mother said."
With his eyes narrowed angrily, the big Sunraider charged forward in a fury, powerfully slashing back and forth with his sword. Ambori ducked and dodged frantically, trying to find a way out.
Feeling something solid press up against his back, Ambori froze in surprise. The big man snarled in victory and swung his sword viciously. Ducking at the absolute last second, the bard managed to roll aside. The big man's sword splintered its way into the tree trunk and firmly lodged itself there.
Ambori spun around on one knee and hurled his dagger at the man's exposed side with all of his might. Instinctively, the man threw himself to the ground and avoided the sharpened steel. The dagger struck the tree at a bad angle and ricocheted off into the underbrush.
Taking a quick look to his left, the bard saw several of the 'Raiders from around the campfire rushing in his direction. He sighed again. "This has really not been my day," he muttered.
The big man, having given up on his sword, stood before the bard with a sneer on his face. "You've got a big mouth, bard. Good thing I don't need a sword to shut it for you." And then he slowly began to advance.
Ambori began to back away. "You know, I'm going to tell you the same thing that I told your mother." He stumbled slightly in a snowdrift but swiftly regained his footing and kept backing away. "I don't like to wrestle with people who outweigh me by a good hundred stone... and I think that you both qualify."
The big man's face twisted with rage "Shut up, damn you!" he snarled as he charged forward.
The bard was surprised at the sudden movement of the big man. So surprised that he actually took to his heels and ran.
It was close, the big man just a stride behind him the whole way. You know, Ambori thought distractedly. I'd always thought the phrase "he was breathing down the back of my neck" was just a figure of speech. Well, live and learn I guess.
Frantic, Ambori saw that he was being herded directly towards the trunk of an immense highoak tree, surrounded by dense underbrush. Trapped! He panicked for a brief moment before an idea suddenly occurred to him.
When they were within perhaps three strides of the tree, the bard leapt forward and planted his right foot against the trunk. Using that as a takeoff point, Ambori heaved with all of his might and back-flipped over the charging man in a graceful arc. As the bard landed softly in the snow the big man rammed his shoulder full speed into the tree and howled in pain, staggering uncontrollably.
As the big man dropped to his knees, Ambori saw the first of the reinforcements reach the small clearing where he had been hung out to dry, so to speak. The bard cursed softly and turned to the big man to see if he carried another weapon.
Seeing a small hunting knife at the big man's belt Ambori reached down for it, slamming a punch to the side of the Sunraider's face to keep him stunned. But when he felt a pair of strong arms slide around his slender form and press him crushingly to the big man's chest, he realize that perhaps the brute wasn't as stunned as he had first thought.
The big man stood up, lifting the bard up into the air and continued to squeeze the life out of him. Ambori was unable to even cry out in pain as there nothing left in his lungs to form a sound with. He could feel his ribs creaking under the increasing pressure and could see black spots before his eyes. He strained with all of his might to draw a breath but could get no air past the barrier.
So this is how it ends, he thought to himself dismally. How meaningless. I was only able to take one of them down with me. He started to see nothing but black. Isn't this where my life is supposed to flash before my eyes? I hope it doesn't focus too much on my childhood, I don't know if I want to go through that again...
He was suddenly released. Air filled his lungs and he reveled in the cold, sweet taste. He fought to clear his vision, not wanting to be caught off guard again.
When he could finally see, he noted that an exceptionally beautiful young woman was staring anxiously into his face. Her long blonde hair hung loosely, drawing attention all on its own. But her eyes! A liquid amber that his creative nature wanted nothing less than to compose an entire ballad for.
Am I dead? Ambori asked himself curiously. Then he saw the big man that he had been battling with staring up in fright at something that the woman was blocking from his sight. "Guess not," he mumbled softly. Then he coughed painfully for several seconds.
"Are you all right?" the woman asked. The bard ignored her for a moment and strained to see past her and note what his opponent was so afraid of. The woman turned as well, watching the proceedings.
Standing before the Sunraider was, bar none, the biggest human being that Ambori had ever seen or heard of. He towered over the Sunraider by half a foot and was broader at the shoulders by even more than that. His hair was in a hopeless tangle on the top of his head and his eyes flashed a menacing grey. There was an immense broadsword belted at his waist and a battle-axe in his hand.
The Sunraider was staring transfixed into the huge man's gaze like some frightened animal waiting for the slaughter. The woman rose and stepped forward to stand next to the larger man. "Are you waiting for something, Hal?" she asked. "Ceorn and Garn are already fighting the others. We don't have any time to fiddle around with."
"I know, milady." He spoke in a voice even deeper than the Sunraider's. "This won't
take long." Incredulously, the one known as Hal handed his axe over to the other man haft first. "Here," he said. "I refuse to fight an unarmed man."
The bard's opponent looked incredulously at the bigger man. Then both of his hands snatched the axe and whipped it back, poised to strike. The woman cried out in terror and the bard froze in shock.
But the larger man calmly kicked the bard's opponent in the stomach. The big man doubled over and dropped Hal's axe to the ground. Then Hal grabbed a handful of the man's hair and pulled him to an upright position where he proceeded to slam his right fist into the man's face three times.
The man cried out agonizingly with each blow, blood gushing from his shattered nose and his left eye already closing over from the swelling. "Finish him, Hal!" Cried the woman. "We don't have time for this!"
Hal complied wordlessly. He grabbed a hold of the big man's belt with his free hand and heaved the Sunraider headlong at the same tree that he'd hit previously. The big ‘Raider sailed through the air, unable to stop his forward momentum, and hit the highoak with a sickening crunch. As the body dropped to the ground, all could see the grotesque way in which the neck had twisted around.
The woman swung her gaze away. "I can't believe you did that, Hal. That was cruel."
Hal retrieved his axe and offered the bard a hand to his feet. The bard took it wordlessly. "No more so than what they've done, milady. I just gave him what he deserved." He looked down at the bard. "You all right?" he asked.
"Yeah," he said shakily. "Thanks."
Hal nodded. "I'm Hal. This is Lady Tasha Pellaren of the Vineyard Grove. I need to help the others with the fight. We could use your help if you're... up to it."
Ambori nodded briefly. "Sure. Could you give me a couple of minutes though? I'm still …” Coughing cut off whatever he was about to say next.
Hal grinned slightly, excitedly. The energy of battle surging in his veins. He turned to Tasha. "Milady? Could you watch the bard while I go help the others?"
Tasha's eyes clouded over briefly, as if she were about to get upset. "Hal, I want to help out here too." Her tone of voice was something less than congenial.
The large man sighed. "I know that, milady. But you can help best by watching out for this man until he can enter the fray." He looked anxiously over in the direction where the sounds of battle were coming from. "Now if you'll excuse me, milady?" He hefted his axe and was off at a dead run.
The bard leaned wearily against a tree. "Hi," he said, still a bit breathless. "My name's Ambori. I'm from Threeapples Vale. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Tasha smiled tightly. "Thanks. A pleasure."
She seemed tense, almost as eager to enter the fray as Hal had been. "Not to be impetuous or anything like that. But where in the world did you people come from?"
Tasha waved a hand in the general direction of the camp. "About three miles that way. We heard a commotion and decided to check it out." She said nothing for a few minutes, staring anxiously in the direction of the fight. "Are you ready?" she asked
Ambori flicked his wrist once or twice to loosen it up and lurched to his feet. "Ready and willing, milady."
She looked at him guardedly, a small smile spreading across her lips. "Great," she muttered absently. "Just what I needed. Another one of you overly polite individuals." She sighed and drew her shortsword form it's sheathe. "Come on." She said, leading the way. Ambori followed intensely as Tasha frowned. "Don't you have a weapon?"
The bard nodded. "Yep." He said, pointing off into the woods. "It's right over there. I'm going to get it as soon as I can, I assure you."
Tasha cast an odd look in his direction but didn't have time to say anything else for the battle was upon them.
Ambori got his first good look at his new associates during the battle. An enraged kelt, Ceorn presumably, was a literal whirlwind of death. He was ducking and twirling about in a frenzy, striking whichever man was closest viciously with his fists, elbows or knees. The bard was astonished to note that the kelt actually carried no weapons. Of course, I guess he doesn't really need them. Ambori counted two unmoving bodies already around Ceorn and the berserker was just getting started.
Off near the trees was a small man in dark robes, obviously a mage. Ambori couldn't seem to recall the man's name at the time but was hopeful that he'd get an introduction later. The bard assumed that the mage was the reason why one man was smoldering on the ground and why another was suspended some twenty feet in the air. As Ambori watched, the levitated man was inverted, so that his head was facing the ground, and then dropped. The man gave a brief cry of fear before striking the ground.
Hal was off to the side, wading through a slew of Sunraiders. His axe swung continuously from side to side, clearing a bloody path for him to walk through. Ambori saw one poor bastard get caught in the head with the flickering blade as Hal strode past, blood flying out of the ugly gash. Pivoting about, Hal was able to get all six of his assailants in front of him at once. Suddenly, each and every one of them seemed less than eager to enter combat with the big man.
"Come on," Tasha said again. Then she charged forward, her sword at the ready. Ambori took a look around, trying to decide where he would be the most useful. The mage was already moving in to Ceorn who had just delivered a devastating three punch combo to one man, the last blow spinning the man about and tumbling his inert form to the ground. The snow beneath that man's face was rapidly turning red.
Making his decision, Ambori turned and followed Tasha.
One man advanced on Hal, his longsword thrust out ahead of him. The large man beat it aside with the haft of his axe, knocking the Sunraider off balance. Hal then reversed momentum and drove the glistening blade deep into the man's chest. Crimson spouted thickly from the gory wound, spraying Hal's front as the corpse fell to the ground, not even twitching.
A second man thought to skewer Hal on his "unprotected" side. But Hal surprised them all by spinning back before the blow ever landed, swinging his axe in a wide arc. The assailant was caught high on the right side, his arm pinned to his body by the deadly blade. The man was flung howling to the ground, the remains of his arm landing several feet away.
Then Tasha was there. She plowed headlong into the last of the six, driving her sword to the hilt in his back. The man looked down at the bloodstained, metallic protrusion in his chest for a brief second. Astonishment covered his face before he slumped to the snow, slowly sliding off of Tasha's blade.
Tasha took a staggering step back, holding her bloody sword in front of her as if afraid of it. Tears sprang into her eyes and she started to tremble. But that was all Ambori had time to see before he leapt into the fray.
With the shredded remains of his tacky green cape flapping along behind him, Ambori launched himself at a very surprised Sunraider. Grabbing the man in a bizarre headlock as he flew past, he took them both to the ground, nearly removing the man's cranium from the rest of his body. Ambori scrambled to his feet first and managed to pick up a discarded sword. He wasted no time and swung the sword down onto the man's prone form. Blood spurted and there was a cry of agony, then the man was still.
Looking up, the bard saw Hal hard-pressed to keep up with the flickering attacks of the remaining two men that he faced. The large man was holding his own just fine, defending himself but wasn't able to actually get any shots of his own off at his assailants. Hal's lips were compressed into a firm line and his brow creased in concentration.
Ambori was just about to assist the big man when Tasha beat him to the punch. Apparently overcoming her inhibitions, she leapt forward and beat aside the blade of one man. Tasha engaged the man with a surprising degree of skill and an intensity expression. Within moments she had her opponent on the ropes.
Hal turned on his last foe with a slight grin. The man panicked and went into a frenzy of attacks, all of which Hal defended. Finally, the man lunged forward with all of his energy, desperately trying to skewer the big man. Almost casually Hal side-stepped the
thrust and swung his axe in over the extended blade, directly at the man's unprotected face. The man had enough time to squeal in fright before the deadly blade crunched into his visage. Blood spurted out in a scarlet rain that spattered over Hal before the body slid to the ground and didn't move again.
Hal tried to wipe the gore form his face but gave up and turned to check on Tasha. Ambori followed his gaze. Both men were in time to see Tasha put the finishing touches on her opponent. As if she were in some sort of fencing class, she expertly parried aside the offensive blade and drove her sword into the man's exposed chest. With a shuddering sigh, the body slid free of her blade and crumpled to the snow.
Ambori looked past the two and saw that the remaining men from fire were now advancing on the battle scene at a dead run. He heard Hal speak: "Are you all right, milady?"
"Yes, Hal," Tasha answered, her voice quavering slightly but remaining firm. "I'm all right."
Ambori turned back to Ceorn and the mage. Surprisingly, the berserker was having a bit of a problem with his opponents. They were able to almost keep him at bay with their swords. The mage, meanwhile appeared to be locked in a physical combat with another ‘Raider.
Hal pointed this out to Tasha. "Milady, Garn and Ceorn need your help. Please go to them. I’ll delay the others."
Tasha looked as if she were about to argue but saw the logic behind Hal's words even as he strode past her in the direction of the reinforcements. After a few strides she called to him. "Hal!"
"Yes, milady?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder.
"Don't even think about getting killed until we can get there to help."
Hal grinned almost goofily. "As you wish, milady." Then he turned and trotted off to engage the reserves.
Ambori looked to both groups and made a quick decision. He took after Hal and was quickly striding along beside him. "Mind if I join you?"
Hal looked down at the bard with mild surprise in mid-stride "If you want."
"I don't think we were properly introduced. My name's Ambori."
"I'm Hal. A pleasure."
"Likewise."
"You ready for a fight, Ambori?"
The bard sighed. "I hope so."
Hal grinned tightly. "Let’s find out."
With an almost bestial roar, Hal charged forward, his bloodied battle-axe twirling over his head as he ran. Ambori was amazed at the fury Hal displayed as he plowed into the front line of Sunraiders like a stampeding bison. He rushed through the dozen men implacably, leaving two of them dead and several more wounded as he forced his way through.
One of the wounded men hobbled over to Ambori, bleeding heavily from a brutal slash high on his right leg as he tried to flee from the enraged almost-giant. The bard knocked the man's sword up and away and lashed out with his foot, grinding his heel into the open wound. The man arched back and howled in pain, dropping his sword so that he could press both hands to his leg. Pivoting about with great agility, Ambori swung his sword mightily into the man's unprotected belly. He waited a brief second and regarded the look of incredulity upon the man's face before ripping his blade free.
Spotting another man, Ambori ducked and rolled clear the blade being swung at him. As he rolled to his feet the bard held his sword out before him and effectively skewered a second man in the belly as he came up to his feet. With a twist Ambori freed his blade and swung it back in time to parry the return blow from the man whom he had just avoided.
They dueled fiercely for several moments before the Sunraider scored a light hit across Ambori's chest. It wasn't deep but it stung. Ambori gasped at the pain and took several quick steps back, forcing the man to chase after him.
When the man was within five feet, Ambori dropped to one knee and swung his blade upwards with all of his strength. The edge caught the man high on the forearm and completely severed the sword hand from the rest of his body. Blood gouted from the terrible wound in a crimson tide as the man howled and dropped to the snow in utter agony. Ambori raised his blade up high and drove it down until the man stopped making any more noise.
Ambori quickly swung his gaze back to see how the others were doing. Tasha was locked in combat with the mage's assailant while the mage himself was lying face down in the snow not two feet away from them. Ceorn was just wrapping up his work. He had his last man pinned to the snow and was repeatedly hammering an elbow down into the man's face.
Checking on Hal, he was about to give him a hand when Hal himself forestalled the thought. The big man broke away one of the five men he was holding off and called out over his shoulder: "Go to the wagon... free the prisoners!" Then he was back to the fight, battling fiercely.
Once again the bard was forced to make a quick decision. This time he obeyed Hal's wishes and began to sprint towards the wagon and to whatever may lay inside.
Reaching the steps leading into the wagon, Ambori slowed down. He couldn't be sure that there was still anybody in there. If there was, he couldn't really just leap in and begin fighting. If nothing else, the Sunraiders would be using their prisoners for hostages. Ambori swore under his breath. There's just never an easy way to do anything.
Cautiously, Ambori strode up the wooden steps and opened the door to the wagon. The greasy smell from the burning oil lamps permeated the. Stepping inside, Ambori realized that he was at an impasse.
The wagon had originally been a place where the children would have a place to rest during the journey. Small tables and chairs had originally been set up all over the place to accommodate them. Currently, the chairs were being used to restrain the two children left alive after the raid. They were twins, a boy and a girl, roughly five years old. Two beautiful, blonde haired little children. They had both been roughly tied to separate chairs and had tear streaks running down their still chubby cheeks, their eyes red from crying.
And now for the really despicable part. Feeling his hand clench painfully on the hilt of his appropriated sword, Ambori forced himself to look at the rest.
Chained spread-eagled to the children's play table was the twins' mother. She was stripped to her small-clothes and had cuts and bruises all over her body where Ambori could see. Her red, welted face was beyond caring though, her mind gone. Her head just listlessly rolling from side to side. Ambori was frightened for her. He'd met an old man who'd had the same condition once. Who had that far off stare in his eyes. That man lived a very long time but never spoke another word again.
Chained to either wall were two young, teenaged girls. They looked much the same as the mother, bruised and beaten and savagely abused. The redhead was incoherent, sobbing uncontrollably. The brunette however, was outraged. Her eyes flared every time she looked at the men in the room.
There were four men were all huddled around the head of the mother at the far side from the wagon's door. The lead man, he had a pencil thin mustachio that curled up at the ends, was holding a dagger to the mother's throat. The other three men had swords drawn and were watching Ambori fearfully.
"Not another step, bard." Said the lead man. "Not unless you want to leave these two darling children orphaned." The twins began to cry again.
Ambori stopped in his tracks, cursing silently to himself. Rushing the four of them was out of the question. Even if he'd managed to get to them before they could hurt the women more, Ambori knew that he'd be committing suicide. He was stuck and he didn't know what to do. So he fell back on his old standard and did what he could do better than anybody he'd ever known.
He talked.
"You'll never make it out of here alive, you know." Ambori began, searching the frightened faces of the four men, striving to find a weakness. "Just give it up and make it easy on yourselves."
"Why don't you shut the hell up?" moustache-guy said sharply. The twins continued to cry.
"I'd really like to, but I have this bad habit of babbling when I get into a tense situation and I'm pretty sure that this would qualify as tense situation wouldn't you? I mean, if you didn't I'd think you to be
a pretty simpleminded person, but that's pretty obvious isn't it? That you're simpleminded, I mean. Why, I could tell you... "
"Shut up!" bellowed the mustached man. "I don't want to hear your prattle!"
"Then what do you want?" asked Ambori desperately. "Your lives? All yours. You let the women and children go and you can leave. No questions asked."
The man snorted derisively. "Somehow I have a hard time believing that."
The bard shrugged. "That's okay. I never accused you of being intelligent."
The ends of the man's mustachio bristled angrily. He pressed the knife closer to the mother's throat, though she continued to have no reaction. "Drop your sword," he ordered.
Reluctantly, Ambori complied. Never taking his eyes off the men, he crouched down and carefully placed his blade on the hard wood of the wagon floor. He rose once again to his feet and regarded the men carefully. "Anything else?" he asked casually.
The man smirked. "We'll see about... "
"However," broke in Ambori. "If you tell me to drop my trousers next, I'm afraid that I won't comply no matter what you threaten to do. I just don't enjoy games of 'Drop the Soap'. "
All four Sunraiders looked at the bard quizzically. "Didn't I tell you to shut up?" the leader asked.
Ambori shrugged broadly. "I don't really remember."
There were careful footsteps on the stairs behind him. A woman's voice called out: "Ambori, what's going on in there? Is it safe?"
"Come on up, Tasha," the bard called out over his shoulder. "Join the party."
Tasha ascended the stairs and stood beside the bard. Blood stained her hands and covered her outfit in splotches. She held her sword wearily in one hand and looked as if she were ready to drop from exhaustion. Garn came into the wagon behind her. He had a wicked bruise high on his right cheekbone and looked about to topple over as well.
As if reminded of his own weariness at that point, Ambori suddenly wanted nothing more than to crawl into a comfortable bed and sleep forever and a day.
Tasha took in the whole situation with one glance. Wordlessly she dropped her own weapon beside Ambori's. The mage stood off to the side and said nothing though his eyes were fixed firmly on the mustached man. Tasha immediately tried to take control of the situation. "The others are outside gentlemen," she said loudly. "They'd like nothing better than to bash your heads in right now and to hell with the consequences. And don't think that they couldn't. Now, if you'll just put the knife away and come with us peacefully I can keep them off of you. if you don't... well, let's just say that it would be unpleasant."
The mustached man made a terrible attempt at a laugh. "You don't scare me," he said as he trembled.
"She may not," spoke a heavily accented, gravelly voice from behind them. "But I'll be' willing to bet that I do, laddie."
All four men stared at the lean form of the kelt while Ambori managed to get his first close look at the man. He was a fright at the moment. His tunic ripped open, revealing the sweat slick, chiseled physique and the rippling blue tattoos across his chest. There was blood spattered across his clothing, his face, torso and hair. He folded his arms across his chest, displaying the tattoos along his forearms and the blood covering his knuckles. Ambori looked the kelt up and down once and nodded his head. Yep, I'm intimidated.
The remaining Sunraiders now looked very frightened and were desperately searching the room for some way to escape. None seemed to make itself available. The lead man was about to speak but the bard cut him off.
"You know something guys?" Ambori began, trying to force the 'Raider's hand and make him overreact. "I've met some pretty disgusting people in my time, but you bastards take the cake. Not only do you force yourselves on women, you do it in front of children!" He shook his head in absolute disgust. "I can only thank the Gods Above that we got here before you brought in the sheep."
"That does it!" cried the mustached man. He raised the dagger from the woman's throat and leveled it at the bard. "You've gone too... "
The mage snapped forward his arm and uttered a single arcane word. A mystical bolt of bluish-white energy rocketed out from his fingers and struck unerringly into the lead man's chest. The man cried out in pain and was thrown back against the far wall of the wagon, the knife skittering away.
Ambori leapt into motion the instant the mage had moved. The bolt had barely struck the lead man before the bard had used the table as a takeoff point. He sailed the short distance through the air in what seemed to be slow motion and collided with the first man headlong. Both men tumbled to the floor and began an intense wrestling match.
Ceorn was hot on the bard's heels, hurdling the table in one long stride and standing toe to toe with the second man. The man tried to bring up his sword but was much too slow. The enraged kelt's fist crushed into the man's face with a sickening crunch. The Sunraider tumbled backwards, spitting blood and teeth out onto the floor. Ceorn followed up with a solid counter punch to the man's belly and yet another blow to the head.
The third man's eyes scoured the wagon for another way out and spotted the wagon's sole window. He dropped his sword completely and made a desperate attempt for small opening. Tasha moved to intercept but was unable to get past the crowd in front of her. The 'Raider's fingers fumbled with the latch holding the window shut when a shadow cut across his face. His eyes flicked up to the window and widened in fright, his mouth falling open.
From out of a nightmare, an immense, bloodstained fist smashed through the glass window and sent shards flying into the wagon. As the hand clamped firmly about the Sunraider's throat, the man got a very good look at Hal's dirty, blood streaked face. The man frantically tried to break free of Hal's grip. Tasha was amazed to see the dark, hate-filled look in Hal's gray eyes. Unconsciously, Tasha stepped away from the window, frightened herself. with a faint twitch of his lips, Hal physically hauled the Sunraider through the remains of the window and into the clearing beyond. A single, bloodcurdling screech passed the man's lips as he was hauled to his death.
Garn casually stepped up to the man that he had magicked into the wall and looked down at him with contempt. The man's mustache were frazzled at the ends and the front of his tunic was badly singed. Nevertheless, he was slowly trying to rise to his feet. Garn peered into the man's eyes. "Well, you're persistent. I'll give you that." Then he lashed out with his right fist and punched the man across the face with all of his might. The man slumped back to the floor and didn't move. Garn winced painfully and walked away shaking his hand and cursing under his breath.
Ceorn delivered one last punch to his man and sent him off to dreamland quite nicely while Ambori continued to slam his opponents head into the wooden floor. Finally Ambori realize that the man had stopped moving so he released his hold of the man's hair and rose to his feet.
Tasha had both of the freshly untied children in her arms and was busy consoling them, letting them cry their eyes out and hold onto her for support. Hal limped up into the wagon. He had a vicious looking cut on his right leg and he winced with every step. "Is everybody all right?" he asked wearily.
Ceorn had found a set of keys nearby and was unchaining the women from the wall. "As well as could be expected, Hal."
Garn leaned against a wall and peered at his fingers curiously. "I think I broke my hand," he muttered disbelievingly.
Ambori walked over to Hal and spoke to him surreptitiously. "Do you think that you can handle things here by yourself for a few minutes, big guy?"
Hal looked down at the bard inquisitively. "I guess so. Why?"
Ambori looked sideways at the big man and a slow flush spread across his cheeks. He leaned in close to Hal and whispered. "Because I really need to pee."