Wolf and Lamb

Revelations

"Well, you were right, they went east. How did you know they would come here and not head back into the forest?" Oron asked. "I didn't see any of their wares in the last village, this is their last chance to trade without heading home empty handed," Zach replied, running a whet-stone down the blade of his double-headed ax. Zach looked around the camp. Mages, archers and brawlers. Battle-hardened warriors to the last man. Why was such a large force necessary for one trade caravan? This whole thing didn't sit right from the get go. Something bad was about to happen, he could feel it. Before he could think about it anymore, one of their scouts came running into the camp. "They're in town. All the merchants are picking through their wares," the scout reported. Rage flashed across Oron's face. "On your feet boys, we take them here," Oron barked. Zach wrapped his wet stone in it's leather and slipped it into his pack which he leaned against his tent. As they made their way through the trees towards the village Zach was weary. Something wasn't right here, he just couldn't put a finger on what.

The village came into view through the trees. A hand full of archers scrambled up into the trees concealing themselves in the branches. "Go." Oron said to Zach. Zach made his way into the village. The caravan would have guards posted, Zach just needed to flush them out. With the hood of his cloak pulled low, he let the blade of his ax catch the sunlight as he skirted the outer buildings of the village. He heard the quiet strain of leather armor as someone landed on the ground behind him, no doubt coming off the roof of the small hut he had just passed. They were good. The only sound came from their armor. "A fine blade you carry there friend," came a call from behind him. Zach only turned to face the masked figure when he had stepped between the hut and the walls of another hut that appeared to have been ravaged by a fire. Keeping his head low he turned carefully so as to not reveal the colors on his armor. "Have you come to trade?" the voice was faintly masculine, and as it spoke Zach heard the strain of a drawing bow. They were very good. "Pull down your hood friend, so we can meet properly," the figure said, their arms resting on the hilts of the swords sheathed on their hips.

Zach pulled the string that tied his cloak around his shoulders allowing it to drop. In slow motion Zach saw the figures hands flip and grip the hilts of the swords, he heard the release of the bow string, but he was already in motion stepping to his left. The arrow flew past him directly at the masked figure. As he stepped into the space between the huts he saw the masked figure draw a blade just in time to deflect the arrow. So fast... Zach sprinted around the burnt out hut, he had to flank that archer. As he neared the second corner he saw an arrowhead glint in the mid morning sun. Were they all this fast? He hit his knees, sliding across the grass, as the arrow flew over his head. The archer stepped around the corner of the hut and Zach swung as hard as he could. His enchanted ax passed effortlessly through the stone and wood of the hut and buried itself deep in the archers abdomen. A feminine grunt as the archer slouched over his blade.

Zach freed his blade and brought it over his head for a swift, merciful kill. The glint of the sun off the blades was his only warning. A flurry of blades descended upon him with an animalistic fury. He was on his back foot and losing ground. The swords dipped and weaved with masterful speed, but it was a raw attack. Stepping wide and spinning Zach was able to get outside arch of the twin swords and brought the handle of his ax across with as much force as he could muster. The strike connected solidly with the back of the swordsman's head sending him face first into the ground. "Be proud warrior, you have brought honor to your people," Zach said as he moved in for the killing blow. The swordsman rolled onto his back, his mask had fallen from his face. Zach stopped, confused. It was just a boy, no more than 16. How could one so young be so skilled? The boy started to his feet only to be sent back to the ground by two arrows that sprouted from his chest. Zach looked over his shoulder to see Bikram disappear between the huts of the village with his long bow. He looked back at the boy on the ground. Zach walked back to the female, hoping he was wrong. He rolled her onto her back, her stomach and intestines hanging out of her sliced abdomen. He gently removed her mask. She was as young as the boy, if not younger. His heart sank.

He replaced her mask so he didn't have to see her face contorted in pain. Screams filled the air. Zach looked toward the center of the village. Smoke rose from the stone and thatch. Something had gone very wrong. He sprinted toward the village center. The scene in the square turned his stomach. Bodies were scattered around the square, some half in the alleys others laying around the trade caravan. Buildings burned. The villagers had taken up what arms they could find and were attempting to fight off the council war band. They were no match for the seasoned warriors. Arrows planted themselves in soft organs, blades cleaved bones and flames charred flesh. It was a massacre. Zach walked up to Oron, grabbed him by the front of his leather armor and slammed him into a wall. "What the hell is going on here?" Zach growled. Oron broke his grip and shoved him back, "I'm carrying out my orders." Zach looked at the carnage all around them, "These are women, and children. They have nothing to do with this war." Oron laughed, "They traded with the enemy, they deserved it." Then it clicked. The rage he had seen on Oron's face when the scout reported that the caravan was trading, the bad feeling he'd had since they left the stronghold. "How come I've not heard these orders?" Zach asked, though he had a feeling he knew. "It's done now Zach, there's nothing for it but to accept what's happened," Oron backed away, motioning two nearby spear men to his side, "the order has been carried out. Now everyone knows that trading with the Archaeics carries a death sentence."

The fire in Zach's eyes belied the calm in his voice, "the Trohtnons will not let this stand." Oron nodded, "but we have the means to keep them in check should they be fool enough to cause any issues." Zach's grip tightened on his ax, "I assume Ichtrael also has no knowledge of this new method of quelling dissent." Oron scoffed, "Ichtrael is nothing but a pirate. He cares for nothing but his gold and his ship." With this, Zach's grip on his ax lessened. Oron eyed him suspiciously until a warrior came sprinting up to them, "a girl escaped into the forest," he said, trying to catch his breath. "How the hell did you let this happen? Gather a party, there are to be no survivors!" Oron bellowed. Zach turned to the forest. "And just where do you think you're going?" Oron growled. "To track the girl," Zach replied.

"You're going to kill a child?"

"I've already killed two today. Besides, with her family dead, it would only be merciful."

Oron threw his head back and laughed, "Well it looks like we've finally tamed the Wild Man. Take six men with you, I don't want to take any chances." Zach simply grunted as we walked off toward the forest, as he moved through the village six more men fell in behind him and followed into the forest.