The Wildlands (working title)

Chapter 1 - Yala

Yala was sitting at her new spot high up on the cliffs. She was watching the entrance of the mine from the cover of a rock formation, bow and arrow in hand. Just in case. Her timing turned out to be good. She had managed to make it back to her perch before any of the guards or miners noticed the horse tied to the entrance. From this point on, she only had to wait and observe.

The horse seemed fairly uncomfortable. No wonder. Yala could barely make out the two bodies on the animal's back. The image flashed before her eyes: rich, imperial purple and blue robes, jewelry, and the heavy set of keys flung across the man's shoulder. Both missing their heads. A gruesome sight. But if it works, it would be worth it.

She kept her eyes on the entrance and listened to the sounds of the night. The wind was blowing through the cracks of the stones, sometimes a bird's cry could be heard in the distance, and naturally the chirping of crickets was ever-present. But one cricket seemed to sing in a peculiar rhythm.

"Damn it," Yala sighed. She checked out the entrance one more time. No movement. Then she carefully stood up and made her way down the narrow path toward the subtle sound that repeated three more times. When she reached the base of the rocks, another person was waiting for her. He was dressed in all black, but the shape of the typical salchan outfit was unmistakable: ridiculously loose trousers, large-sleeved shirt, vest and that classic wide-brimmed hat.

"Tulan," she nodded toward the man as she approached him. "Give it."

"Well, excuse me, good madam," the salchan said after Yala grabbed the bag from him. "I know we have an agreement and I gladly bring you food and supplies, but I would still not refuse a respectful greeting."

"I nodded," Yala stated. "I have no time for chatter right now. I'll be back in the village with news as soon as I can." And with that she turned around and quickly but carefully made her way back to her spot.

As soon as the entrance was in view again, she noticed that something was different. The shape was different. There were people near the horse. She quietly sat back into cover and tried to make out what was happening. They were too far for her to understand what they were saying, but based on their movements and intonation, it seemed like they were confused, sacred even. Good. After a minute of discussion the two Imperials decided to take the horse inside, along with the corpses. Everything was quiet once again.

Yala leaned back and changed into a more relaxed position. If everything went well tonight, she could have a nice lazy day back at the village; finally make up for all the lost hours of sleep. Suddenly a soft groan could be heard coming from behind her. She turned her head slightly and listened for movement or more moaning. Nothing. She sniffed once as she considered what to do. Then she stood up and quietly walked into the narrow passage of the cave.

The two Imperials were lying exactly where she had left them, almost completely naked and tied up. Except the man was shifting around with a pained frown on his face. Yala looked at them for a few more seconds. Even without any of their fancy robes, it was easy to tell they were from the Empire. The man had medium-length curls on his head, a sculpted beard and moustache, and the woman had waist-length, unbraided hair. They practically screamed Imperial. Well, they knew what they signed up for when they came to the Wildlands. Even if they didn't, they didn't have much of a choice now.

Yala walked closer to the stirring man. She moved the cover of the lantern to allow a little more light through. She grabbed his hand and pulled it toward the light to check out the wound. The bandages she had put on him were already soaked in blood. The man made a scared little whine as he looked up at Yala and tried to get away from her, but she held his wrist tight.

"Stop moving around," she ordered. "If you make it too much of a bother, chances are I'm not gonna change your bandages." That seemed to make him relax a little bit, or at least stop actively fighting her. The man tried to say something, but it turned into a muffled moan thanks to the cloth that had been shoved into and tied on his mouth. He tried a few more times as Yala changed the bandages, perhaps hoping her curiosity would get the better of her. But Yala relished the blessed silence.