Taraborn looked at the door. Time seemed to slow down. The doors of the farmhouse creaked open. Taraborn stared eyes wide open as they trickled out. He blinked, taking in the moment when suddenly time resumed it’s normal pace. The brigands were charging at him.
”Shit!” he shouted and began sprinting towards Eroforth and Ealstan. ”Incoming!” he shouted to them as he tucked his dirk away and drew his borrowed sword. It was old, a little notched, and not what he would have chosen in any other situation, but it was all he had.
The brigands, confused and angry, didn’t seem to pick up on this rather obvious clue that Tara was charging towards reinforcements. Yelling various curses of their own they streamed after him, spreading out based on how ready they were. One sod, still pulling on his breeches, managed to faceplant right by the campfire as he tripped over his own breeches.
Taala had been shadowing Tara from the hilltops with her arrow nocked. She took an aim at the nearest of the brigands, letting loose an arrow in the hopes that it would slow him down to give Taraborn some running space.
The second-to-lead brigand got in they way of the shot, taking it just inside his right shoulderblade. He staggered sideways, but the three hard on his tail didn’t register that he had been injured. They assumed he just tripped. Four were now close on Tara's heels, one right behind, three more trailing slightly, as they made it through the first shrubbery arch. Behind them another eight were getting themselves into a group before continuing the pursuit.
Hellrien had been following the events from her vantage point on top of the hill. This was not part of the plan! The brigands were right on Tara’s tail, running straight towards Ero and Ealstan, about a dozen of them. She had to do something! Biting her lip, she tucked away her crossbow and drew her sword. Screw the plan! All plans were off now. Hellrien half slid, half dropped down the steep rockface onto the path.
Taala was loping along the hill, letting loose another arrow, and narrowly missed one brigand. Staying herself, she inwardly cursed her idiocy, re-nocked and with steadier arm took down the brigand nearest to Taraborn with a shot to the side of his neck.
Taraborn heard the sound of an arrow entering the man’s flesh, and then the thump of him hitting the ground. He put on a burst of speed to get through the next gate, trying to get a short distance away before turning to face the pursuers, sword outstretched in a long guard.
”Archer!” a brigand cried. The three came to an abrupt stop, realizing their error. There was a brief scrum at the first archway as they dashed back to join their companions.
Hellrien had lost her balance upon landing and was now staggering towards the shrubbery arch gate. Ealstan, who was hiding on the right side of the gate saw what was happening, grabbed Hellrien by the back of the collar and yanked her back behind the hedge. It was too late. One brigand, looking over his shoulder, saw Hellrien’s silhouette coming into view in the archway against the starry sky.
”Reinforcements!” he cried, ”beyond the gate!”
He dashed after his friends, and the bandits - now well and truly alert since the planned ambush has been scuppered - dashed to find cover in the courtyard. A window in the house banged open and a hastily-fired arrow ricochetted off a boulder to Taala's left.
”Fuck”, Eroforth snarled from the other side of the gate, ”they’re on to us.”
”You don’t say”, Ealstan sighed.
Taala registered the clatter of the arrow off the boulder and lowered her running position, keeping pace but slightly behind Tara, figuring the fight would take place further along the way.
Taraborn, who had spotted Hellrien too, ran through the gate. Hearing the brigands stop their pursuit he cursed, spun around and stared at Hellrien angrily.
”You stupid cow! We shoulda left ya behind!” He cursed, looking back at the brigands gathering in the camp. Hellrien was too ashamed to say anything – her face was burning red.
”You're the fool who alerted them to us in the first place”, Ealstan said to Tara.
”Head on assault?” Tara suggested to Ero, seeming reluctant to bring it up.
Taala took up a temporary position behind a boulder looking back at the gateway of the first hedgerow. The glow from the campfire behind was illuminating the doorway and highlighting any of the brigands that might run through it.
The bandits were starting to regroup in the courtyard. Shouted orders rang as they regained their wits and started to take stock of the situation. None were pursuing the Dawners any more, the first mad rush having been aborted. None were interested in racing down a blind alley now that they knew Tara was not alone, and that there was an archer helping him.
Eroforth met Tara’s eyes. ”Now or never”, he replied, ”they're on to us. Or we come back another night... Hellrien's still half dead and their confusion won't last long.” He looked around at the others as well, to judge the group's intent.
Ealstan looked ready to charge through. ”They're not armoured I don't think.”
”I'm not as dead as I look”, said Hellrien, ”not yet, anyways.”
Taraborn shook his head and said to Ealstan: ”Looked half dressed.” He looked at Hellrien a moment. ”Ye stay here an' don't interfere”, he growled before looking at the two men. ”Let's go then!”
”Back up the hill”, Ero added – perhaps expecting she would disobey, ”you can help Taala!”
Hellrien wanted to disagree with them, but after she had just botched the ambush she had no bargaining chips left and she knew it. She cursed under her breath.
Taala’s eyes flicked around trying to ascertain where the others were and determine what the brigands were planning. She could see part of the main area from her vantage point. None had ran out through the hedge gate.
”Bastards are grouping”, she muttered. ”Let’s hope none of the buggers have any notion of tactics”, she thought to herself.
”Get under cover!” came a barked order from the courtyard. ”You and you, around back. Where're the other archers?”
Eroforth shook his head. ”This is a bad idea”, he muttered to himself, but followed as the other two men charged back towards the regrouping bandits.
Ealstan rounded the corner with his axe ready, shouting a roar at the top of his lungs, hopeful that the sight of a fully armoured man with a massive axe yelling like a madman would somewhat unnerve the foe. Ero added his own voice to the clamor.
Hellrien turned to face the rock wall. It was at least twenty feet high, and almost vertical. What did Ero took her for – a snow-beast? How in Mordor’s ashes was she supposed to climb up there? Hellrien put her left foot on a rock to the left side of the bluff, reaching for a grip with her fingers – and slid back down. It was hopeless.
As Ealstan charged through the field into the courtyard, a hastily-fired crossbow bolt pinged off the side of his helmet. It startled him, but did no real damage. Ealstan seemed remarkably unfazed by his brush with death with the crossbow bolt and only raised his voice even further as he brought his axe down upon the rightmost attacker. Four men were just loping toward the arch - clearly intending to set up their own ambush, like the Dawners’ failed one. Their lope turned into a run as they rushed the three fighters. About half a dozen more were milling about closer to the building, still getting their bearings. There was a certain amount of argument and confusion about what to do and what was going on - confusion that cleared up once three armed men rushed back in!
Taraborn reached back to his pack, pulling a small wood axe from it. He charged with the other men, his voice adding to the cacophony along with the clash of his two weapons together. He launched the axe at the brigands rushing them before taking his sword in both hands again and rushing the enemy with a swing.
Hellrien gave up on the cliff. Curse her to Angband if she would just mill there like a berry in an arsehole, a useless cow! She took out her crossbow and sneaked to the side of the gate, cautiously peaking in.
Taala blinked in surprise when she saw the others charging towards the main yard.
”What the hell happened to the plan?” she muttered to herself, rising from her crouched position. ”How the fuck did Hellrien...”
Arrow nocked she slunk along the top of the hill, advancing a little beyond the Dawners, perhaps contemplating taking up the flank. Taala crouched down a little way back making her a difficult target from below to see. She had all brigands just behind the hedge door within the main camp in range.
Hellrien could really only see the three Dawners standing on the other side of the second archway after the field. She had no clear shot of anyone from here – she needed to get closer! She ran through the first gate and started sprinting across the field.
Ealstan buried the head of his axe in the side of his opponent’s chest, cutting through ribs and leaving him dead or dying. Pulling the steel free he looked around and pointed the blood dripping axe at the nearest brigand alive.
”Now you!” he roared before charging the poor sod.
Taraborn watched as the axe cleaved through a man’s skull, brains splattering all over his companions. The man fell backwards from the force of the throw, staring dead eyed up at the sky. A smirk tugged at Taraborn’s lips as he followed the axe. Down to two brigands, Ealstan was ahead of him and charging one, Eroforth the other. He took the moment to take in the situation of the courtyard, moving forward to yank his axe from the splattered melon of a former skull whilst forming a hasty plan in his head.
Eroforth charged right beside Ealstan, blade swinging up. This brigand - a wiry fellow with bad teeth and worse complexion - snarled imprecations at Ero and swung a club at him as soon as he was in range. Ero, however, was wise to this sort of untalented fighter and, feinting one way, sidestepped the man's swing and planted a booted foot right in front of the other's ankle. His opponent staggered, off balance, weapon out of position from the missed swing. Ero, in a deft move, reversed his sword and stabbed it backwards to his right, not even turning around. The keen blade slammed into the brigand's lower back, severing flesh and tendons and bone. Ero ripped the blade free; the soon-to-be corpse tumbling to one side with a scream of agony... blubbing, but no longer a threat. Ero sidestepped and took up a defensive position, quickly scanning the situation.
Taala hissed under her breath: ”Stay that side, defend the door... let them come to you”, she willed the Dawners, able to see the form the fight was taking from her vantage point, but obviously not wanting to scream tactics or give her position away, she picked out one hapless half clad man to fire upon.
Hellrien reached the right side of the gate and peaked in the farmyard, aiming with her crossbow.
Ealstan slammed into his opponent using sheer bulk and strength to throw him to the ground. The brigand, now an undignified heap on the ground, was offering little resistance to Ealstan while he brought the axehead down into him and ended his life.
Taala loosed an arrow towards a topless portly fellow who tumbled and rolled into the fire, expiring in a series of screams and a scent of roasting flesh.
”That's for having bigger breasts than I you fat pig”, Taala hissed under her breath.
Hellrien took an aim of a brigand too and took a shot. Ealstan heard another 'ping' as the bolt grazed the side of his helmet, coming unexpectedly from behind. The bolt headed off on its new trajectory and hit a brigand – who had only just gotten his breeches on - right in the throat, knocking him back against the wall. He slid down, gurgling and spilling blood.
Taala readied another arrow. Her bodkin scanned side to side looking to pick out her next target nowhere near the Dawners. Hellrien readied another bolt, cursing the crossbow for it's slowness.
Taraborn spotted an archer in a window of the farmhouse, lit up by a torch inside, looking dead into her arrow. He blinked and dropped not a moment too soon as the arrow whizzed past where his head had just been.
”Archer!” he called out.
It was down to five in the courtyard now. There was a shout from the second story window: ”Rush them, you useless bastards!” And the five did just that.
Taala was alerted by Taraborn’s shout and looked to the window. It was quite a distance away and a difficult shot with only limited space in between the tree branches.
Ealstan had barely pulled the axe head out of his second kill before he turned to the new five.
”Die brigands!” he shouted afresh and charged into them yet again, axe raised.
Hellrien had managed to load her crossbow and peaked out again, looking for a new target. Taraborn took his axe in hand, launching it again at the brigands.
”Come on ya fuckers!”
Taala wasted a shot trying to hit the archer who kept appearing at the window. At best she had made them cautious of trying a shoot for a while.
Hellrien took a shot at one of the brigands. Just when her brain had given her index finger the order to squeeze the trigger, Ealstan’s figure blocked the view. Hellrien saw what was going to happen, but it was too late to stop her index finger. Ealstan grimaced in pain as something hard and sharp just hit him in the arse. Thankfully his mail armour meant he still only had one hole back there, but he did still spend the better part of the next ten seconds cursing as the bandit going at him stumbled over himself and missed with his club. Hellrien winced and grimaced.
Taraborn rushed the brigands, his axe throw having missed and the weapon clattering behind them as it hit the ground. He parried an overhead swing from a sword and pushed the sword round so it clattered against the ground as he flicked his blade up into his opponent’s now open stance, slashing his neck with the tip. As this man dropped a smaller brigand charged in, almost weasel like with a scrunched face, small eyes and big ears. With a club in hand he managed to hit Tara on the shoulder. Tara grunted, dropped back and brought his sword up between him and the weasel like man, keeping his distance.
Eroforth parried the short sword of the first man rushing him, then sideswept the bandit's neck, sending him reeling away. He dropped his sword and clasped at the lifeblood pouring from his throat. Ero was just turning toward a second attacker when the stumbling clubman knocked him sideways, and he took a vicious cut to his left shoulder from his second opponent that tumbled to one knee.
Taraborn readied to strike down the annoying weasely looking man before him when an arrow flew from the window and struck into his shoulder. He grunted a curse and snapped off the shaft to stop it from getting in the way.
Taala spun towards the brigand who had clubbed Ero's shoulder.
”Bastard!” she snapped, losing her composure a little after seeing Ero got hit. Her shot was clumsy, rushed and overly cautious not to hit Ero, and the arrow clattered off the cobbles just left of the club wielding brigand.
Hellrien took another shot and hit this time. The brigand spun around and lost his weapon. His hands scrambled for something to hold on to.
Ealstan fumbled due to the bolt in his behind and tripped over his opponent. Ealstan recovered first and butted the poor sod in the head, dazing him even further. Ealstan brought the steel axe head upon the brigand’s neck, lopping off his head.
Taraborn raised his sword, going to swing it down on the weasel before him and winced, grunting a curse as the broad arrow head stuck in his shoulder sent a wave of pain through his arm.
”Fuck!” he cursed, followed by a grunt as another arrow clanged against the side of his helmet and veered into a bush, dazing him a little. Hellrien backed away to reload. Eroforth was pushing himself back up when the brigand whom Tara missed took another swing at him. Ero threw his sword up to block and lost his balance. The brigand's swing knocked him painfully backwards and his head and injured shoulder slammed into the courtyard stones behind him, dazing him. Taala fired off another shot quickly after her earlier effort. Again in haste to try and help Eroforth, the arrow zipped past the attacker’s ear. Hellrien aimed behind the door and squeezed the trigger. The brigand screamed and dropped on his knees.
Taraborn looked to Ealstan. ”Archer?” he suggested, already running towards the building in a zig-zagging movement, hoping to avoid getting skewered. Ealstan ignored the man next to him and went for the more direct route, hoping that the hooded bloke would get himself shot rather than him.
Eroforth was gasping in pain as his shoulder continued to throb. ”Why's it always that bloody shoulder?” he complained and rolled to his right, getting cover from the window before pulling himself to his feet as the other two charged the hideout.
Ealstan got hit by the arrow in the left shoulder, digging through his mail and into his flesh. Grunting, he yanked it out and threw it to the floor, continuing on despite the pain. Hellrien rushed into the farmyard as well, charging for the cover behind a big tree in the middle of the yard. Taraborn rushed the man by the door. A slice from his sword emptied his guts onto the floor with a horrific stench. Tara rushed in through the door, looking back at Ealstan to check if he was alright before bounding up the stairs towards the archer.
Taala saw that the courtyard was clear of brigands and covered the Dawn as they charged the building, launching arrows towards the open window to keep the archer from shooting back at them. A good number of her arrows sailed through the open window, keeping him pinned back.
The farmyard was cleared off brigands now. Hellrien tucked her crossbow away, drew her sword and rushed to the door. The inside of the building was dimly lit with torches. The downstairs were empty barring one drunken whore who looked up from her makeshift bed. Covering her naked form with sacking, she blinked as she saw the three Dawners bursting in and the guard’s corpse tumbling down in their wake. Before the sellswords was a step ladder leading up to the barn upstairs. The woman started to scream, very loudly. They heard a single pair of footsteps from upstairs, a scream and a loud curse.
Taraborn bounded up the stairs and Hellrien followed on his heels. She recognized the man by the window. It was the leader, the man who had worn a red shirt and a leather vest, now butt naked. He was just backing away from the window, an arrow jutting from his shoulder. He had not heard Tara and Hellrien making their way up the ladder whilst he had attempted to escape through the window. Now he turned to face them, bow in hand, and Hellrien saw he had another arrow lodged in his other arm. He slumped white as he saw the two Dawners in the room. Hellrien swung her sword, knocking the bow off his hands.
Ealstan popped his head in and saw that all they were left to deal with was a nearly crippled, naked bowman. Deciding to leave the two to it he went back downstairs to search for something to eat, completely ignoring the woman down there.
Outside in the farmyard Eroforth got up to his feet, holding his shoulder. With a sword in his good arm he assumed guard duty outside the door of the barn.
Taraborn pushed in after Hellrien had disarmed the brigand leader, sword to the man’s throat.
”Where the fuck is my sword?” he shouted at him angrily. Redshirt backed away.
”Wha' fuckin’ sword?” he tried to buy time, glancing around and wondering if there were more of them around. ”Where's th' rest o' ya?” he demanded.
Taraborn pressed hard with his sword, a trickle of blood running down the blade. "The fuckin’ fancy one ya stole from me, ya sheep shagger!”
”At home, whittling wood”, Hellrien retorted dryly to his other question.
The woman downstairs started hurling abuse at Ealstan and throwing boots, mugs, loaves of bread and anything she could get a hold of at him. Ealstan simply caught one of the loaves and started looking for a knife, still ignoring the woman.
Redshirt attempted to raise his arms in surrender.
”Take th' fuckin’ blade away... my memory jus' got better... yer mercenaries, hunh? Deals ta be made? Righ'?”
”No”, said Hellrien.
”Mercenaries”, Tara nodded. ”Aye. But this shit is fuckin’ personal. Where's the fuckin’ sword or ye won't have a cock to shag no sheep no more.”
Redshirt had backed himself into a wall. ”I 'aven't gorrit”, he panicked.
The woman downstairs stood up, stark bollock naked, still screaming abuse. Ealstan still soundly ignored her as he made a sandwich with whatever meats the brigands had left lying around. When he found a piece of pork he began eating it. Nonchalantly he offered it to the woman too.
Taraborn dropped the point of his sword to the mans jewels. ”Ye don't wan' t' be lyin' t' me.”
Redshirt glanced downwards. ”Back off... I git nervous wi' a fuckin’ blade at my throat... ya no' jus' dealin' wi anyone 'ear.”
He looked at Hellrien. ”Still alive hunh?” His lip curled. ”Hardy piece of arse.” He looked back at Tara. ”She yours? I got better downstairs if’n ya wan' some?” Redshirt was babbling, sweat beading on his bow.
”Trust me”, Hellrien said, ”if you don’t know, you’re screwed. You'd better off dead. You don't want to say that.”
Redshirt glanced downwards again and swallowed. ”Figure I'm screwed anyways”, he glared at Hellrien. ”Those blades we robbed... they're bein' put ta good use”, he smirked, bravado taking over. Taraborn pressed his blade hard against the mans jewels.
”Ye got one more chance t' lie t' me.”
Redshirt’s eyes flared. ”A'righ...ya bloody sword’s downstairs, I took a likin' t'it.”
”Where downstairs?” Tara asked.
The trollop downstairs fished about in the makeshift bed, picked up a very fancy sword from under it and ran screaming towards Ealstan. Ealstan sighed and put down his sandwich before dodging to the right of whatever attack the woman was attempting, throwing an armoured punch to her head. Her head snapped backwards, her body still coming forwards. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she was knocked out cold. She hit the floor hard, arms and legs spread. Taraborn’s sword clattered off a few yards away. Ealstan picked it up and looked it over for a moment before beginning to search for it’s scabbard.
”I took it off afore I took m' woman”, redshirt barked at Tara. He straightened, now aware that his woman's screams had stopped.
Taraborn smirked and pushed down hard with his sword, the tip of the blade pushing through to the wall behind. ”Cheers. I'll let the lass finish ya off.” He stalked out, making his way downstairs without a second look back at the man.
”You didn't have such a crowd last time we were visiting”, Hellrien said. ”Is it a special occasion?”
Redshirt looked at her. ”Yer a sharp one”, he sneered, ”seems you interrupted a little meetin' between my lot and Porkie’s lot... kill me an' yer won' learn wha's goin' down later.”
Hellrien rubbed her chin. ”You don't say? Well, I won't kill you then. Taala is coming up shortly. She’ll be happy to.”
Redshirt glowered at Hellrien. ”Jus' you an' me darlin', let’s dance, hmmm? I talk, you provide me wi' a horse, coin an' you get ta save a few of your little Shirelings who seemed t' have cared soooo much f'ya!”
”No”, said Hellrien. ”You will answer to the Bloody Dawn law.”
She punched him on the stomach, hard, and Redshirt fell on the floor. He tried to bargain, spouting out lies one after another. Hellrien kicked him relentlessly after each lie. Redshirt’s story kept changing frequently. Bedraggled and bloody, he tried to sat up, the arrows paining him greatly on top of Hellrien’s kicks. Wiping the blood from his mouth and spitting a good mouthful of it to the floor he finally started to talk.
”Like I said ya' informant, th' bloody traitor failed ta tell ya, there was a little meetin' goin' on wi Porkie’s lot, they hold up at tha' camp by the waterfall... Cole’s weapon's were”, he laughed, ”taken from him ta arm us ta' do a joint attack... th' two camps on those little buggers at Stock an' Woodhall.” Redshirt spat more blood from his mouth and continued: ”Yer might've stopped us lot, bu' since ya sizzled Porky in th' fuckin’ fire.” He laughed at this, with clearly no love for the man. ”Aye, since he's fuckin’ ash now, his lot'll get mighty nervous, an' they'll either come here, thinkin' we double crossed Porky, or they'll attack wi' out us!”
Redshirt looked up at Hellrien, making one last ditch attempt to bargain for his life. ”I go' coin... lemme go lass an' it's yours…” He started to cough up blood from his injuries.
”I'm not interested... I think Taala wants to have chat with you too.”
Redshirt rubbed his temple. ”Who th' fuck is Taala?” He looked at Hellrien. ”Where's pretty boy gone? Who th' fuck’s in charge? We dealin'?”
”No deals. Taala decides what to do wi' you.”
Hellrien closed her eyes and the humming in her ears abated. There had been sounds and voices coming from downstairs for quite a while now, but she hadn’t registered them in a while. Now she started to become aware of them again.
”I say we kill 'im fer the trouble 'e gave us”, said Taraborn’s voice.
”If you take his hands off he'll be no use to anyone at all”, Ealstan’s voice replied. ”Longer punishment than death.”
”I don’t want to know.” That was Taala. A moment later Taala’s head peaked up as she walked upstairs. She strode towards Redshirt and lifted up his chin to look at the state of him. Hellrien gave her a summary of the information he had given her. Taala nodded along.
”Answer this and I will consider sparing you”, she said to Redshirt, ”lie to me and I'll know.”
”I'm willin' ter deal!" Redshirt looked at Taala, then at Hellrien. ”Fuck me, she hits hard!”
Taala lifted his head up again roughly by his hair. ”Did Cole double cross us... answer wisely.”
Redshirt smirked.
”Fuckin’ answer me!” Taala snarled, yanking his head back further.
”No!” Redshirt barked. ”No, we screwed him over.”
Taala looked at Hellrien. ”We've no more use for him. We need to get to Woodhall, my horse is there. So's Ero's, and these sons of bitches are not slaughtering them or the holbytlan...”
She turned and headed to the ladder. ”I'm checking on Ero, be ready to leave soon.” Her voice faded a little as she descended the ladders, addressing the men. ”Finish that bitch off, we need to get to Woodhall, soon.”
Hellrien drew in breath and looked at Redshirt, squirming on the floor. Without giving an actual command, Taala had just charged the deed on her hands. She could ask for Tara to do it – Tara wouldn’t mind – but it would be remembered and seen as a weakness. And in a company like the Bloody Dawn it was not good to be seen as weak.
Hellrien didn’t like torturing people or killing them in cold blood, but it was not like she hadn’t done it before. She remembered that tomb-robber in Rantost, the one she had also tortured for information and killed in cold blood – because she had had no choice. This time was no different. Would it become easier in time – would she eventually turn out as calloused and unfeeling as Taraborn, for whom killing and cutting people up came easy as slicing bread?
Redshirt looked up at her, and – perhaps seeing the twinkling of hesitation in her eyes – opened his mouth, maybe to protest, maybe to propose another deal. Before he had time to say anything Hellrien had grabbed him by the hair.
”Sorry, but we can’t let you live”, she said and sliced his throat open. Blood spilled on the floorboards and Hellrien’s boots, coloring them crimson red.
