Chapter 3: Can We Move?
The four thieves had been
walking for miles, completely separated from the rest of their
“band”. Each individually contemplated leaving the others to go
alone and each realised they didn't want to. The large pine trees
rose up around them, reducing the sky to splinters of sunlight
shining through the tree-tops. All four remained fairly unaware of
the land yet felt at home in it's wild and mysterious nature, the
peaceful quiet around them giving their journey a slightly mystical
quality.
“How far north is this
city?” the youngest of the thieves questioned. He had light hair,
was fairly tall, though not as imposing as Crole, and displayed a
curious and sly nature in his movements as he explored his
surroundings.
“Stop asking questions and
get a move on,” answered Borg: a small, squat man approaching
middle age. He wore a ruffled, dark, brown beard with a long ponytail
swinging down his back. He had also constantly worn a scowl over the
course of their collaborative get rich quick scheme, Sedrick noted
with mild interest.
“We'll know when we get out
of this forest.” The darkened trees that impenetrably surrounded
them reinforced Borg's mood. Alone without the rest of the band, they
stood less of a chance of finding this supposed city in the north
where the purses of the wealthy eagerly awaited them. In all honesty
they had never these cities before. The only resemblance of a city
they knew of came on the coast to the south of their land, still far
enough away for them to not be overly familiar with such a sizeable
settlement. They were used to living in a land similar to this dotted
with trees, hills and small settlements.
Just such a settlement came
crawling into view within an hour as the trees that clamoured around
the thieves began to thin and spread apart to form a clearing with a
village at the far end from the thieves approach. Upon further
inspection, 'village' proved too generous a word to describe it, it
was more a small collection of houses perched on the edge of the
clearing. Nevertheless, it provided an opportunity to the thieves for
food either through money, guile or the provision of a small service
for the inhabitants. Sedrick quickly opted for guile and disappeared
into the tree-line. As always he wanted to see on what adventure his
unique skills could take him and far he could push them. The others
left him to pursue food through another means. They stood discussing
the situation within the forest, just out of sight of the small
cluster of buildings.
“What money do we have?”
Borg queried, looking up at Crole.
“A little... enough for
food certainly but we don't know how many days we'll be on this
trek,” was the hesitant answer.
“I'm starving, I'm up for
money if it's quickest..”
“And we don't want to be
around if Sedrick gets caught...” chipped in Laurel.
“He's not stupid Laurel..”
“Then he can get my dinner.”
“Just fucking decide
already,” snapped Borg.
“Do you need us to decide
for you, because I think that requires some serious consideration.”
“You do know I have killed
before Laurel.”
“So you keep telling us
master murderer but I fail to care,” Laurel smirked honestly. He
didn't care, in fact there was only one member of their foursome who
had never killed – and that wasn't Laurel.
Before Borg could retaliate
Crole said matter of factly:
“Look, if we're doing this
together let's just vote on it and do whatever comes top.”
“Money,” Borg spoke
instantly and Crole shifted uneasily.
“The money will need to last
a while.”
“Service” stated Laurel,
not realizing in his need to annoy that he wasn't satisfying his own
hunger pangs.
After Laurel made his decision
a harmless, innocent woodcutter emerged from the buildings opposite
the huddle of thieves. They looked up, sensing the movement within
the still, tranquil scene. Thunk after thunk resounded around the
clearing as the stranger merrily hacked at his wood. Borg glanced at
Crole who frowned at Laurel and let out a sigh.
“Fine, money it is. Let's
get some food and shelter.”
Immediately, Borg strode from
the tree-line towards the chopping sound. The woodcutter stayed
focused on his work and didn't notice as Borg continued towards him.
Thunk, thunk, thunk the work was consistent, practised and cheerful
as Crole and Laurel followed Borg across the clearing, feeling the
grass sweep gently against their dark trousers. He didn't look up
once. Thunk and thunk, he could do this for days, the man was a pro-
content in his simple, harmless life. Thunk...thunk... this happy
chopping put a spring in Borg's step, each of which brought him
closer to the promise of delicious dinner. It had an honest tone to
it he thought, reflected in the peaceful, simple scenery that
surrounded the workplace and sent the noise ricocheting back at them.
One more thunk and the worker looked up, staring straight at Borg.
There was the softest of clicks followed by a great, sudden bang
echoing into the thieves ears with more force than they had ever
known. An echo which continued with sudden, epic force onwards around
the forest as the woodcutter's head exploded.
Kendra was strolling along the
forest path as a colourful variety of scattered leaves fell before
her, clutching at her boot as she passed by. Sandra hopped after her,
a messy debris left on the forest floor as she passed.
“Where are we Sandra?”
Kendra asked, a tone of authority in her voice.
“You know I know where I
am.”
“Where are we Sandra? What
would you call this collection of trees thrusting up out of this
muddy surface we call the ground?” Kendra continued regardless.
“I have trouble focusing,
I've made you aware of that in the past..”
“That's not an answer
Sandra,” Kendra stated unhelpfully.
“A forest.”
“A forest! Fucking brilliant
Sandra! Now, what do people tend to do in a forest?”
“Chop wood.”
“Something to do with
animals Sandra,” Kendra persisted in her unhelpful, authoritative,
exaggerated tone.
“Watch the birds.”
“Your not getting the game
Sandra, I ask you a question and you tell me what we both know I want
to hear.”
“Hunt.”
“And what do hunters leave?”
“Traps,” Kendra said in a
resigned tone.
“Now you know! Now you know
Sandra. After this lesson how can you possibly manage to wander into
a trap again!” Kendra finished, her voice brimming with sarcasm.
“My leg hurts.”
Kendra quickly glanced down,
her attention from the path ahead briefly interrupted before quickly
focusing back.
“That's what snares do I'm
afraid, but you're up and you're walking with bearable pain so that's
good enough for me to keep chasing after those thieves. That item our
clients want back is clearly precious and could cause more trouble
for us if we let just anyone get their hands on it.”
Sandra kept moving,
contemplating whether she should mention that she hadn't heard the
description of this mysterious, precious item. She thought better of
it, refusing to give Kendra another reason to humiliate her. Her
loose, cropped hair drooped down over her face as she looked up at
the sun. Still plenty of day left, as long as it continued to act
normally. There was a general buzz in the back of her mind, as she
guessed there was among everyone's, as to what had happened to the
sun. The possibilities of why it had disappeared were endless to her,
so she had decided to focus on hoping that nothing dangerous would
come of it and try not to let it bother her too much. The conflicting
theories of the merchants amused her still though, as her lip curled
in spite of the stinging area where the snare had wickedly clawed
into her left calf.
A few hours later the
stinging had eased and she had promoted herself to hobbling over
half-hopping/ half – lurching up the path.
“Kendra may moan a lot but
at least her partner had decent first aid skills”, she mused as the
path evened out after another hill. The woodland continued to stretch
out before them, continually littering the path with the colourful
leaves. Her reverie was smashed as she heard strained voices further
up to the left of the track. Kendra didn't hear, she in turn was
wondering if she should call a halt for the day so Sandra's leg could
heal better, when she quickly shot her arm out- tensed horizontally
to the left. Sandra instantly thumped into it and collapsed back onto
the floor.
“Pit trap,” Kendra
stated. She had only just seen it at the last moment before she
herself had triggered it, the slightest of patterns in the leaves
revealing that they had intentionally been arranged. It was huge,
covering almost the entire path. Most likely designed for a bear she
thought, slightly confused.
“There are voices,” a
voice murmured from the floor.
“Which way?” Kendra asked,
trusting her partners ears without question.
Sandra got up and motioned to
go quietly indicating where the sounds were coming from. She had to
be guided by Kendra around the trap for fear of worsening her leg.
Once they were beyond it Sandra crept forward confidently and
silently through the trees, Kendra rustling quietly just a few steps
behind, her ears pricking up as the voices became louder the closer
they came.
They were coming from a
clearing where three men surrounded another on the floor with knives
in hand. The man on the ground had deep cut marks and bruises where
he had been gruesomely assaulted by his assailants. Kendra wondered
how he managed to keep himself from falling unconscious as he looked
up, blood oozing from a cut on his lower lip.
“Tell us where to go!”
one of the knife wielding maniacs commanded, blood dripping from his
knife onto the tranquil forest floor. The scene looked horrific, but
Sandra did note at least that the injuries were still relatively
minor on the victim, if they could just get him away he should be
able to make it to the nearest medical attention.
“We have to intervene,”
she whispered to Kendra, focusing on keeping her breathing subdued
and quiet. Kendra had already formulated a plan, as well as noticed
the purple wine jars stacked next to the thieves' baggage and
supplies.
“Make your away around
silently to the opposite end of the clearing,” she ordered at a
minute volume with eyes focused in anticipation. “Once you're there
stay out of sight and ready to make your move. I'll try and draw them
away, once I do get the prisoner and the wine and head north. There's
a village a few miles from here, do you remember?”
“Batesmoor.”
“Correct, take the merchant
there with the wine, I'll follow you once I've gotten rid of these...
scum.”
Sandra nodded and made her way
around the clearing. Her blue top and leggings contrasted amazingly
with the green scenery so she kept her movements slow and precise
around a path which kept her far enough from the clearing to remain
hidden. Meanwhile, the merchant continued to be questioned and take a
beating. Kendra lost sight of Sandra as she got closer to the
opposite side, it was now up to her intuition to time her move just
when her partner was in position. She ran through the plan once more
in her head. It could be better, but she trusted in her speed,
intelligence and natural ability to improvise to get her out of any
setbacks. The only worry was that if the thieves didn't go for her.
The seconds ticked past and as the thieves moved in for another
attack on the gentleman she decided to move.
She stepped into the clearing
perpendicular to the thieves' vision the jagged edges of the stones
she clutched digging into her skin. Being so intent on their prisoner
she had a wine jar under her arm and a stone ready to hurl before
they noticed her. Her first stone crashed into the nearest thief's
face as he turned to face the threat. He was tall and gangly in shape
lurching backwards as he yelled out, a hand clasped over his face. A
string of foul language erupted from the thief stooped down to cut at
the victim as a stone zipped into his teeth. Kendra laughed merrily
and galloped off into the trees. The stooped thief spat blood onto
the already blood spattered floor.
“Stay here!” he shouted at
the unharmed thief as he stepped forward.
“We'll go get her and she
can join him,” he muttered nodding to the groaning man on the floor
as he followed his taller comrade into the woodland.
The remaining thief wiped
a baffled look off his face before standing guard over his prisoner,
a knife at his hip Sandra noted.
“Could be worse”, she
thought. “At least two of the criminals had gone after Kendra's
diversion. Time to improvise, I guess..,” as she felt around for a
decent grip on the large chunk of wood in her hand and glared at the
thief.
