Let No Man, nor Beasts, nor Gods

Chapter Nine: Look Behind You

Earlier, as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, Aphid followed the distant horn, his heart racing with hope. He hoped this was indeed the surviving villagers rounding up, and Kor was among them.

He walked and walked, and walked quickly, and even ran.
The sun's touch now a gentle caress on the landscape.
Though he hadn't heard another horn blast, he pressed on, straining his eyes to see any sign of life ahead.

Finally, he spotted something on the ground. Squinting harder, he focused on the image, his gut sinking with each passing moment. Someones lay on the ground, motionless.

Aphid instinctively darted into the nearby patch of trees to his right, using the scattered clusters of trees in the marshy area to sneak closer. His heart raced as he approached the gruesome scene...

From the cover of the trees and bushes, he saw the devastating sight: deceased villagers, some pierced with arrows, others with brutal gashes.

Aphid's hand flew to his mouth, stifling a gasp. His eyes scanned the bodies once more, desperate to ensure Kor wasn't among them.

He spotted Anya, the kind elderly woman whom Aphid had picked mushrooms for, and who had welcomed them into her home with a warm smile and no bother for the brothers' muddy state.
Now she laid silent, covered in blood.

Aphid's sigh was heavy with sorrow, but his gaze snapped to the other side of the road, where a small campfire flickered within the trees. His heart sank further as he realized the camp was surrounded by more bandits ...

Aphid's eyes swept over the camp, his anger simmering like a pot about to boil over. "Shor's bloody Bones," he muttered under his breath, "All accounted for, Ysmir's hairy crevice."
He hoped Krimmar had died begging for it to be quicker...
Really, Aphid knew Krimmar likely didn't know just how many there were, only that Krimmar's brother was the leader, but still ...
Six of them left.
Or were there more?

As he scanned the camp, Aphid's attention snagged on a large, covered wagon. Leather and pelts draped over its frame, but Aphid's keen eyes detected movement within. His heart paused.

It was very likely a villager or two was locked inside, spoils to be trafficked--could Kor be locked inside? The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through Aphid's veins.

Aphid's mind raced as he assessed the situation. He needed a plan, a way to approach the camp without alerting the bandits. His eyes narrowed, his thoughts whirling with tactics.

He suddenly became aware of his tight grip on his bow, only just now remembering it in his hands.

Could he-could pick them off one by one?
No. Taking on the bandits alone was a risky move, especially if they used the prisoners as leverage. He couldn't shake the thought of Kor being among them, helpless and frightened.

Luring the bandits away from the camp was a possibility, but how could he ensure they'd stray far enough for him to free the captives and make a safe escape? And what if Kor wasn't even in the cage?

Aphid's mind raced, his thoughts spinning in every direction and finding no destination. He fought the urge to pull his hair in frustration, he knew he had to stay focused. He scanned the camp again, searching for any weakness, any opportunity to turn the tables.

Finally, one of the bandits stood up.
"I gotta take a shit," he said.

The others groaned in disgust, and the archer among them gestured dismissively. "Do it way over there, we're still trying to get your last stench out of our hideout. Don't ruin the fresh air too."

The potty bandit rolled his eyes as the rest laughed and he set off, walking away from the camp.

Aphid's eyes locked onto him, his gaze piercing like a sabre cat stalking its prey. He could take out at least one of them, a small victory to start with.