The King's Knights

Chapter Twelve: Backstabs in Motion

The Kings' Road was being repaired cobblestone by cobblestone beneath a cloudless sky. Which was good since they'd come across several caravans already. A few of them had even been alive and unharmed, and a few more had survivors. Tales came in of vicious bandits on the road and two formidable ones.

Sigurd and a group of mercenary warriors were the strongest. Apparently, they preferred to kill only when necessary and resisted. There was an element of honor and tales of single combat fought.

Then there was Aklus, who killed everyone and had them eaten by rats and undead.

Aklus had spread terror well, and tales of his ghosts roaming the land could be heard everywhere. He had yet to attack any road crews, who were heavily defended by Paladins, but Fayn guessed he'd get there.

Sooner or later.

Now and then, you'd see caravans broken down and looted, their materials stolen and taken away. They looked to have been fighting by them as armed merchants dueled with bandits. You saw broken ox carts with oxen having their throats slit and left to die, their goods slashed and broken.

Varsus checked each one and observed the carnage with obvious disapproval. Word from those they talked with was that the roads had become much more dangerous. Rangers had come in to help, but they were stretched thin.

Something would have to be done about it.

Something was being done about it.

Ham looked at the bodies with silence and bitterness, obviously upset as they piled brush and sticks over the bodies. Reginald's fists were trembling with rage as her worked. Varsus took the time to shoo away the birds with his cloak. When they had finished, Fayn raised a hand and summoned the power of Cin'Dar.

One of them was a girl hardly older than her. The flames took a dead face which could have been here.

"This has to stop," said Reginald, looking at the flames. "These bastards can't be allowed to keep doing this. They are ruining lives and hurting everyone. And if the livestock are lost, a lot of people are going to starve."

Drawing out the book of Elranor, Varsus began to read them last rites. It happened three times at three points. How dare these bandits terrorize the roads like this. How dare they try to discredit Relma. He looked a bit like a priest in his fine armor and such. It was appropriate, given its parentage.

"In the name of Elranor, Lord of Death and Healing, we commit these nameless fallen to the dead. May they find rest at his table and absolution for sins," said Varsus. "Though we know them not, their end was cruel and unjust.

"May it be avenged, and greater good brought out of lesser evil. And so long as men die, good shall never perish."

It was the third time he'd said something like this. The first time, Fayn had stood silent out of respect. The second time, she'd hung back a bit. She'd been too enraged the third time to stop, and so was Cin'Dar. Reginald seemed to think the same.

"They didn't even steal anything," said Ham morosely.

They'd pay for this.

They'd all pay. The bandits, the Demoration, all of them would pay for this treatment of Harlenor and the High King.

"Do you think Aras can handle it?" said Reginald.

"No one is as good as Aras," said Fayn, remembering tales of him. "You don't know him like I do. By the time they realize he is there, they'll die. With any luck, the people responsible for this are dead already."

"I pray it is so," said Varsus. "But it might be better to take them and have them questioned. Who do you suppose did this?"

"It isn't Sigurd's work," said Raynald. "He hasn't killed people who don't fight back. Always leaves witnesses and such. And he would have taken the goods to sell to a fence. Not Aklus either, no mutilations."