Police Thieves and Merchants - Chapter 3

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.