Clouds skittered across the sky, blocking out moon and starlight by turns and casting darker gloom upon the figures travelling along the dirt road. A cart rocked back and forth, pulled by horses and flanked by guards. The helmed men peered warily into the darkness, hands on their swords as they scanned the surrounding forest. Their employer was liable to kill them if they didn’t deliver the cargo safely. Hoof beats suddenly sounded ahead of them on the path. One of the armed men in front raised a hand, signaling the cart to stop as the guards surrounded it, unsheathing their swords. When the rider came into view, the men visibly relaxed. The man in front, no doubt the leader, lifted the visor of his helmet and nodded to the horseman. “Sir Valen, we didn’ expect you t’be here. I’m guessin’ you got a little anxious ‘bout the cargo, eh?” Sir Valen dismounted, handing the reigns to the guard, “I did indeed. I wanted to make sure none of your lot messed up the delivery this time.” “Eh…no ‘arm done. You’ll want to see ‘em, then? Fresh batch, this.” “I do wish to see them….a fresh batch, you said?” The lord looked at the guard with a raised brow, “I do hope they’re not too fresh.” A noise came from inside the covered cart, sounding a bit like a muffled sob. The guard shifted nervously and then responded, “Well…eh…very fresh, you could say.” Sir Valen’s features became etched into a frown as he approached the cart, looking through one of the barred windows into the darkness within. Huddled figures met his sight, cowering away from his face. He turned on his heel and turned back towards the guard, “Fool! They’re no use to me like this. I asked for them to be dead, not alive. Kill them.” The guard stumbled over his words, “But m’Lord, we…” “No buts! I told you that once you secured them that they should be killed. The next shipment should be the live ones! I was sure that Mr. Locke told you the same. The palemasters…” His sentence was interrupted by a shout from the trees, “If you like dead men so much, perhaps you should join them!” Sir Valen turned quickly and the guards tensed once more, “Who said that, show yourself!” Another voice sounded in the trees, leaves rustling, “Now why would we do that? We have you surrounded and in our sights! Leave the cart or we’ll shoot!” The guarded mumbled but the lord raised his hand, murmuring, “They have to be bluffing.” Another voice from a different direction, “You think us to be bluffing, eh? Why don’t you try us! There’s a special place in hell for those who sell people as sacrifices to palemasters!” The guards shifted nervously, each glancing towards their captain and then to Sir Valen. “M’Lord, perhaps it’s best…it could be the archer…” Yet another voice sounded, “We’ll give you to the count of ten! One! Two! Three!” The guards began to back away and Sir Valen turned towards them, “You idiots, stay here!” “Four! Five! Six! Seven!” The guards turned and fled, leaving Sir Valen next to the cart, peering warily about in the darkness. “Eight! Nine!” He unsheathed his jeweled rapier, glancing furtively towards the cart. He suddenly felt cold steel pressed to his throat and stomach, arms wrapping around him from behind. A soft voice whispered in his ear, “Very careless, Sir Valen. You should know better than to come out after dark.” He recognized the voice and froze, “Robyn?” “Very astute. Do you want a prize?” The blade pressed closer to his throat. Sir Valen quickly spoke, attempting to distract her, “How did you get all of those men in the forest to surround us?” “Men?” She chuckled softly, “No men were involved. I just happen to have a very talented mage in my service. She was able to make the voices for me.” “Robyn, this is all a big misunderstanding. We were merely…” She interrupted him, “Merely buying slaves in order to kill them to provide fresh bodies to necromancers and palemasters? Using my father’s influence in trade and his money in order to conduct your scheme? Planning on marrying me in order to use my inheritance so that you wouldn’t need my father anymore? I know that you’ve already hired an assassin to get rid of him.” He snarled back at her, “Your father is far from blameless.” Another chuckle, “Oh, I do not doubt his guilt. He has as much blame as you do if not more. You do know that he killed my mother, don’t you? Of course you do. You helped him carry out the plan.” “So then why not kill me now?” His hand inched towards the dagger strapped to his side. If he could only reach it… “I have no wish to kill anyone, Sir Valen. But before this night is through, your wealth and your title will be worthless to you. You will be left with only yourself.” He snatched the dagger, striking backwards. The girl jumped back with a laugh, sheathing the glowing swords and placing a hand on the door of the cart. Sir Valen eyed her warily. She smiled at him from under a hood of green, “I suggest you go back to Solinar, Sir Valen.” She held up a bow, drawing an arrow backwards, “As good as your swordsmanship is, can you outrun an arrow?” Sir Valen stared at her for a moment, disbelief washing over his face. This girl had ousted him. He glanced towards the bow for a moment, “Your aim is terrible. There’s only one chance in five that you’ll hit me.” “On the contrary, my aim is very good. I assume you’re referring to my target practice.” She leveled her gaze at him, “I play a game when I shoot at a target. Sometimes I aim to get all of my arrows in a circle in the white, sometimes I try to hit every other ring. The game I was playing when you arrived was to hit every ring, two arrows each.” Sir Valen stared at her for a moment, and then glanced towards the cart again. She noticed his gaze and then jerked her head towards the road, “Run along. You won’t want to miss the show.”
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Last edited by Archer14 on Mar 8th, '10, 04:23, edited 1 time in total.
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