In an otherwise quiet valley, in a meadow surrounded by trees and mountains, a caravan of traders trundled down a well worn path.
Crates of goods were packed on horse drawn carts and surrounding each, a small army of mercenaries rode horses or strode and casually scanned their surroundings as they talked and laughed with the teamsters and each other. Some held bows and all were equipped with blades of varying sizes, from broadswords to dirks. Most were lean, but those who weren't had one reason or another for taken aboard the convoy, and all knew well how to use their respective weapons.
A young looking man with a misshapen nose, but otherwise slightly handsome features slowed his pace until most of the caravan had passed him and he fell in next to a woman who held a longbow and several arrows in her left hand and sported two short swords which sat in their sheaths at either side of her waist. She wore metal greaves and bracers, along with the rest of her leather gear, and wiry muscles showed through the gaps in her armour. Despite the road's grime that spattered her features, lending to her formidable aspect, she projected an approachable air.
"This isn't your spot, Tobias," she said, not looking at him, but continuing to survey their surroundings, occasionally looking back to be sure they weren't being followed. They were half way through the clearing and if they were to be ambushed, now would be the most opportune time.
The young man smiled in response to her admonition. He fell lightly into her side, bumping her slightly off course. "Come on, Sasha. We're a week away from any minor city. If we were going to run into bandits, it would have been in the surrounding forests or along any of the trading routes we took on the way here. There hasn't been any sign of civilization of five days now."
She glanced at him for a moment without turning her head then continued scanning the environment. "I don't care how far from civilization we are, when we're on duty, you call me captain," she said, and with the last word, she grabbed his head with her free hand and shoved him hard. He toppled and skipped sideways on one foot a few times, but regained his balance and fell back in next to her.
"Yes, captain," he said and gave a mocking salute.
She smiled then exhaled, relaxing. "Arthur!" she called, and a grey haired man, one of the few in full plate armour stopped so the rear of the caravan could catch up to him.
"Captain," he said, saluting. He wore a beard that would usually be well trimmed if not for the days of travel without the luxury of a bathroom. He refused to shave himself clean like the rest of the men. He would simply say he'd rather be grizzly and warm than clean and cold.
Sasha indicated the rear of the caravan with a tilt of her head. "I need a break. You've got rear watch."
"Sir," he said, falling into position.
Rear watch was one of the more wearing tasks. You started to feel like there were things behind you if you kept at it for too long. Sasha said that the last thing she needed was a band of jumpy soldiers, and at the least, paranoia could be used as a tool for keeping everyone under her charge safe from bandits and other potentially disastrous hazards, so she took the bulk of the duty.
Both Sasha and Tobias fell back behind the caravan in a casual stroll until they were effectively alone.
"So, you still haven't told us where we're going," said Tobias. He smiled slightly and lowered his head so he could look up at her through his lashes.
Sasha rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. Tobias had plagued her with questions about the job they were on, despite her telling everyone that the details were need to know and anyone not comfortable with that was welcome to stay behind. No one had. Everyone in the band was fiercely loyal to her and each other. The twenty-four swords for hire were a tightly knit band with an acceptance and understanding for each other none had found anywhere else. Each knew about their sister's and brother's pasts, and each knew any in the band would die for them.
