Erik and his companions, first company in line behind Calis and de Loungville, reined in and passed word back for the halt. Owen Greylock was riding with Calis, and Erik hadn’t found the opportunity to talk to him.
Two scouts who had ridden ahead at first light were galloping down the road. One of them, a clansman whose name was unknown to Erik said, ‘A merchant caravan’s been taken an hour ahead. They tried to stand and fight, but there were no more than six guards for six wagons.’
De Loungville said, ‘The merchant was traveling light.’
The other scout, a man named Durany, said, ‘They didn’t even have time to stop the wagons. Looks like the raiders swooped down out of the trees and shot them full of arrows before they knew what was happening. The murderers stripped everyone down to the skin, and took their armor and weapons and everything else they could carry.’
Calis asked. ‘How many?’
The clansman said, ‘Twenty or twenty-five, maybe more.’
Erik said, ‘Where are the bandits?’
Ignoring the source of the question. Calis nodded, and Durany said, ‘They headed back into the trees. We followed their tracks about a hour’s ride into the woods, where they turned south. They’ve been shadowing the road since.’ He looked around. ‘We never overtook them. They may be looping behind us already.’
‘What about the village?’ asked de Loungville.
Calis said, ‘Our twelve can hold the village if they get advance warning. But these raiders are acting more like a mercenary company on a rampage than bandits. If they come up on the village undetected …’ Turning to de Loungville, he said, ‘Bobby, take six men and head back to the village to warn them. That’s the most we can do. Then catch up as soon as you can.’
De Loungville nodded. ‘You come along with me,’ he said to Erik and as they rode past, he motioned for Erik’s five companions to fall in. They pulled out of line, and soon the seven of them were riding back to the village of Weanat.
Smoke told them they were too late even before they could see the fort. As they crested a rise in the road, they saw the charred ruins of the outer wall and the still-unfinished tower now blazing like a banner.
Without waiting for orders, Erik spurred his horse forward to a canter and got as close to the fire as he could. He called out a few names of villagers he had come to know, and after a moment a man emerged from the woods.
‘Tarmil!’ shouted Erik. ‘What happened?’
The villager was covered in soot and looked tired but otherwise unhurt. ‘Those men who were supposed to leave yesterday morning came back last night with another band of men, asking to buy provisions. Your soldiers said no, and they got into an argument over giving their word and leaving and things I didn’t follow.’ He waved up the road. ‘While they were shouting at each other at the south gate, this other group climbed over the north wall and opened the north gate.
‘Your men tried to fight, but they were cut down from two sides. Most of us who could slipped out the south gate, or climbed the walls; then someone set a fire. The bandits didn’t trouble most of us after that; they were too busy trying to steal whatever they could before everything burned up.’
‘Did everyone get out?’
Tarmil shook his head. ‘No. I don’t think so. Some of the men, I don’t know from which band, took out to the hills there, with two of our women. Drak’s wife, Finia, and Embrisa, maybe some others.’
De Loungville came up and said, ‘Don’t you ever go riding off like that without leave.’
‘They’ve taken some of the women up into the hills.’
De Loungville swore. ‘I told Calis –’ He cut himself off before he said anything more. He looked at Tarmil. ‘How long ago and how many men?’
‘Less than an hour and about five or six.’
‘Spread out,’ ordered de Loungville. ‘See if you can spot any tracks.’
Natombi found tracks indicating that a large band of riders went south, while Sho Pi found signs of another, smaller, group heading into the hills. De Loungville motioned for the former monk and Keshian Legionary to take the point and begin to follow.
They had only a short way to go before the screams of women revealed the bandits’ whereabouts. De Loungville motioned for the six riders to dismount and spread out, and moved quietly toward the sounds.
Erik had his shield on his arm and his sword out a moment after tying his horse, and glanced over to see Roo on his right and Luis on his left. They crept forward through the trees, and came upon a sight that set Erik’s teeth on edge.
Two men were lying on top of two women, one who was struggling. The other lay motionless. Three other men sat close by, drinking from an earthen jug as they watched the rape. A sad cry was followed by a convulsion as one of the men finished and stood up, and started pulling up his trousers. One of the men who had been drinking tossed aside the jug and started unfastening his trousers as he came to take the first man’s place.
He halted and looked at the still form on the ground, then said, ‘Gods and demons, Culli, you killed her, you fool!’
‘She was biting, so I covered her mouth.’
‘You smothered her, you idiot!’
‘She’s not more than a minute or two dead, Sajer. Go ahead; she’s still warm.’
Erik saw the body and felt his heart lurch. The corpse was Embrisa. Something strangely familiar struck him, and for an instant he saw Rosalyn in a similar position, her clothing torn away. Without thought he rose up and moved toward the nearest men. One was watching the argument between his companions, but the other started to rise. He was halfway off the log where he had sat when he died: with a single sweeping motion Erik cleaved his head completely from his shoulders.
Erik’s companions charged and shouted, and the four remaining men scrambled to defend themselves. Erik crossed to where the man named Sajer stood, while the one called Culli dashed to where his sword and shield lay. Sajer pulled his only weapon, a dagger at his belt, and Erik advanced upon him like death come into human form.
Fear crossed the man’s face as Erik bore down on him, and he made ready to defend himself as best he could. He lunged in feint with his dagger, but Erik only stepped forward, bashing with his shield, knocking him to the ground. He raised his sword above his head, then brought it down with a thundering blow, cutting completely through Sajer’s upraised forearm, slicing him from shoulder to belly.
Erik had to put his foot on the man’s chest to pull free his sword, and when he did he turned to see that the remaining three men had taken off their helms and thrown weapons to the ground, the sign among mercenaries of surrender. Erik’s eyes were wild and wide as he looked at the man named Culli. He walked purposefully toward him.
De Loungville stepped before Erik and, using all his strength, pushed him backwards. It was like trying to move a tree, but he did slow Erik’s forward advance. ‘Get a hold of yourself, von Darkmoor!’ he commanded.
Erik paused at the sound of his name. He looked to where the two women lay. Finia had all her clothing torn from her, and lay motionless in the grass, the only sign she was still alive being the slow rise and fall of her small breasts. Embrisa lay a short distance away, also nude, but bloody from belly to knee. Erik turned to stare at the man named Culli. ‘He dies. Now. Slowly.’
De Loungville said, ‘Did you know her?’
‘Yes,’ answered Erik, part of his mind being surprised de Loungville didn’t. ‘She was fourteen.’
One of the captives said, ‘They was villagers! We didn’t know they belonged to anyone.’
Erik advanced, and this time de Loungville threw his shoulder into him, knocking