The Kingdom of Liticea: The War in the Westland

Chapter Eight: The Fangs of the Azuni

"Snow's getting deeper," one of the scouts reported to Julius. It was night, but the snow reflected the moonlight and glowed like ocean waves.

"Is there no way around it?" Julius asked. The men were high-strung enough as it was. They could afford few setbacks.

"None that I could see. The only way is straight north. We go any other way, there'll be bushes and branches blockin' us. They'll hear us comin' before we catch sight of their camp."

"North it shall be. Quietly now, boys," Julius' hands fell to the hilt of his sword and they silently moved towards their destination.

They received word of this Morcar caravan about six hours earlier, when the sun was out for a time that was growing shorter with each day. Helg had them on the move. It was too dangerous to stay in one place for long. The old keep provided a valuable base, but it would not take long for a Morcar counterattack to find them. There was a small hamlet not too far away. Likely the home for an old farming village. The inhabitants most certainly have fled east. It would provide temporary shelter, but as with the old keep, it was far too close to the front lines. They would have to move further south for more permanent shelter when the worst of winter set in.

It was a day's journey. They began at sunrise and arrived there at sundown. To their surprise, the hamlet was, in fact, inhabited. It was a not a group of farmers they encountered, but rather a party of Westland Rangers. Whilst they were approaching, their leader rode out to meet them. Once it was confirmed that they were no threat, about two dozen others emerged from the woods, their bows armed.

They all made camp for the night and the Ranger leader, named Haeldric joined Helg, Gorr, and Julius for supper. It was here that he revealed that his party was sent north from Muscavra.

"On whose orders?" Helg asked him.

"Lord Jon Malken of Sarabath," he stated. Helg and Julius both stopped eating and their mouths hung open in disbelief. Malken? That drunken fool who spent a good part of the journey here quarrelling with others and addling himself with Rainwood Leaf was in command of Muscavra?

"How did he come to command Muscavra?" Julius demanded to know.

Haeldric gave them the story of how on his journey to Muscavra, Jon Malken, the true heir of Sarabath, rallied men to his called. He came across many scattered groups on his way. They were defeated and in despair, but the sight of Lord Malken on his great steed and in his shining armor raised their spirits and they pledged themselves to him. His group was small at first, but he gained more and more followers and soon he had an army at his command. When he reached Muscavra, the beleaguered defenders threw open the gates and pledged their swords, spears, and bows to him as well.

Since taking command, he has fended off Morcar attacks from the west and from the south. His total number is around ten thousand. He sent us north to establish contact with Prince Tauron and any other Rainwood or Litici forces.

Julius and Helg looked at eachother. The ranger's story only deepened their disbelief. How could a buffoon like Malken possibly inspire that many men to follow him. They both have a distinct memory of Jon Malken falling asleep drunk in a sheep's pen.

"What are your orders?"

"To establish contact with Prince Tauron, and, if possible to harass the Morcars in any way. There is a caravan passing to the north of here. We were going to attack it after dark."

From there, Helg inquired further and learned that it was a supply wagon. The rangers suggested that it was a small party attempting to bypass Raingard and push further east. It was too tantalizing of a opportunity to pass up. Helg insisted that his party join the raid.