Book One: Rise of the King

Chapter Ten

 The two men were peaking over an outcropping of rocks. Below them was a camp. There were a handful of tents, a campfire and about twenty Gauran. Most of them were unarmed, their swords sitting in their scabbards and propped up together against a boulder. Shackled together were a dozen or so Ranthos captives who were being taunted by the Gauran, the strange guttural language echoing softly off the rocks that made up the main protection of the camp. Not for the first time, both men wished they understood the language. They were certain it would prove to be a tactical advantage.

Eli shifted, slipped quietly down the rocks until he was crouched on the ground, waiting. Nate slinked down to join him. He held up all ten fingers, flashing them twice. Eli nodded. He had counted twenty as well. They moved together, silent down the hill to where the small Ranthos force was gathered.

"I was beginning to worry." Gray said softly, pushing off the rock he had been leaning against. Charlie tossed aside the stick he had been whittling. Clea waited by a tree, seeming the epitome of patience.

"Sorry. We wanted to be sure how many there were. Took us a bit to see them all and double-check our count." Eli explained, his voice quiet in the dark.

"There's five tents on this side where ten of them are sleeping. There are nine by the fire, which is in the center. There was one guy just sort of hanging out. Most of their swords are propped up against a rock of the opposite side of where we were, about halfway up that side of the camp." Nate filled him in.

Gray thought for a moment. He lit a cigarette, hiding the cherry with the palm of his hand. He pictured it all in his mind and considered everything that he could think of.

"Alright, here's what we'll do. Eli, I want you to climb up on the rocks where you were. You should be able to protect the weapons from there with your bow. Shoot as many guys who go after them as you can. Put two archers on the other side and have them take out the guys in the tents. Just make sure they don't accidentally hit the rest of us. Charlie, Nate and I will take three other guys with us into the camp." Gray said, almost finished with his smoke.

Charlie had taken on the duty of interpreter for Gray. He spoke the Common Tongue, but found it so frustrating to try and carry on a conversation that he gave orders in English and didn't even attempt it in Common. Gray took a final draw off his cigarette before carefully putting it out with the toe of his boot. Charlie told Clea what Gray had ordered and the three men of the Night Guard started through the trees to the slave road at the southern entrance of the camp. Eli had already started toward his post and was nearly in position.

Gray was at the head, of course. He had said he would give no order he didn't feel confident enough to carry out himself. Gray gave the signal, a sharp whistle that was answered by the firing of arrows into the camp. He charged in, his men behind him. It always surprised him how quickly these little skirmishes were over with. One minute his heart was pounding and he's waiting to attack, the next he was breathing hard, his shoulder sore, a pile of corpses on the ground around them.

He turned around, his boots feeling sticky in the blood. The captives were cowering together, understandably terrified. He wiped the Gauran blood off his sword on his pants and returned it to the scabbard before going to them, kneeling down and gently touching one man on the shoulder.

"No fear. Safe now." He promised, his voice kind, drawing the man's eyes to his face.

"Safe?" the man whispered.

Gray nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. He turned to see his men searching for the key to free these poor people.

"I have!" declared a very happy Ranthos warrior. He hurried over to Gray, giving him the key.