I had never thought that I would look upon lands this far south of the Long Lake, yet the rolling plains of Rohan begin to feel familiar under my feet. The people here are to my liking-direct and courageous and, like me, not quite willing to give trust until good actions match fine words. (I make no apology for this, it was something I was taught from childhood; my mother and I both saw too many ill intentions masked with flattery and boasting in the marketplaces of Dale. As Dwimmer would say, the truest test of any metal comes in the tempering.)
This morning, I turned Daysey's head towards the northern road out of the city of Harwick. It always made me smile when she would point both ears straight forward and flare her nostrils to take in the morning breeze. We would sometimes catch a glimpse of another horse as it wandered over the hills, and Daysey would always hail them with a soft nicker. There weren't any other horses this morning, though, but what I did see was an unusual number of crows circling the far marshlands towards the river. Riding that direction, it was the stench of rotting flesh that met our nostrils first. Daysey snorted and tossed her head, but I urged her forward. Better to learn the truth of these portents than let an evil pass by unremarked.
Near a stand of trees, from which one had a clear view of the river, lay the carcasses of two horses. As I neared, I could see that this was the work of men. These animals had been skinned and butchered. I urged Daysey even closer, though she fought me and shied as the persistent crows flapped away from their feast. They were Folc's horses, and my heart sank at the prospect of having to tell him the worst. There was nothing to be done, though, and we began to head once more along the river, the crows scolding us with loud cries as we drew away from the grisly sight. I sharpened my eyes to the ground ahead of us. Ruffians still ranged about this land, and I had no doubt that this carnage was their fault.
I saw no tracks...no trace, even, and as we climbed the rise above the marshland the only thing there was the charred remains of the settlement of Langhold set black against the lightening sky.
I slowed Daysey to a walk and made my way in a circuit along the ruined outer defenses. It had been one time that it were better trust had been given quickly, but what is done is done, sad though it may be. I stopped as I rounded the hill and gazed off towards the river.
The remains of an Easterling camp lay empty at the riverbank - once they had gained their victory here they had quickly moved southward. Today, though, there was a thin trail of smoke coming from the remains of the main enclosure. I decided I should go and see what might be afoot for the sake of the few crofters that remained nearby.
I rode to the river's edge and dismounted, leaving Daysey to forage for any tender reeds that sprang from the riverbank. Walking past the half broken down barricades, and across the pontoons that still remained, I silently crept up to the main enclosure. I suspected that a few of the local ruffians had taken the opportunity to glean whatever their allies had left. It would be short enough work to make these "mahumub" regret their greed.
I eased my way around to the compound's entrance and, taking my bow from my shoulder, I tightened the bowstring and made ready to let fly an arrow at anything that would come into my sight as I passed the gate. At that moment I heard behind me the terrible wail of a horse's scream. My blood turned to ice and I whirled around, only to be knocked to the ground by a heavy blow from behind. I fell forward, snapping the arrow underneath the weight of my fall, but immediately reaching for one of my two hunting knives. Quickly turning to face my attacker, I found myself looking into the dark face of a Kundolar warrior, spear in hand. I swept the spear point away with a large gesture of my arm, and gathered my feet under me to spring at my attacker and cut the smile from his face. But at that moment, I felt a heavy blow at the back of my knees and I crumpled to the ground once again. Two other warriors appeared, one roughly kicking the knife from my hand and the other laughing as he pinioned my arms behind me and took my other knife from my belt. I did not understand their words, but I understood their intention and I quickly studied each of them, searching for weaknesses. Under my breath, I vowed I would make pelts of all of them.
When he saw that his comrades had a firm hold upon me, the spear man set his weapon upon the ground and walked up to me. Reaching out, he fingered the brooch I wore at the neck of my tunic, running his fingers over the gems that made up the sigil of Seven Stars. With a smile, he took the brooch in his palm and ripped it from my neck, taking a goodly piece of tunic with it. The men that held me laughed and tightened their grip. I glared at the spearman and said nothing....this one I would skin alive.
When he reached for the cowl that covered my head, I redoubled my efforts to free myself, but to no avail. He snatched the cowl from my head as roughly as he had taken the brooch and tears of anger spilled from my eyes. Suddenly, the boisterous laughter stopped. The two that held me did not loosen their grip, but it seemed they drew themselves away from me. The one that held my cowl laughed and tossed it into the air, catching it again and turning to me with a grin on his face which quickly melted into confusion when he saw me bareheaded. Quick words were exchanged, surprise and even fear in their voices, when suddenly the one who held my arms exclaimed " Aphar Khan!" and with a painful grip forced me even closer to the ground. The other placed his hand roughly on the back of my head and forced my face nearly into the dirt. I could see nothing except two boots approaching me, but these were no soldier's feet. The boots were made of fine leather dyed a rich purple, and on the heels were fastened intricate spurs, viciously barbed but fashioned of mixed silver and gold.
The one who held my brooch and cowl prostrated himself before the newcomer, and held the objects in his hands up in offering. I glimpsed a finely groomed hand reach down to take them and felt the heavy silence as they were being considered. After a moment, I heard a melodious but steely voice utter an order to the two men that held me. There was a brutal blow to the back of my head and the world went black...
