Bandits

originally posted July 31, 2006

All things considered, the casualties were very light. Two men were killed in the raid. Another fifteen were injured. Property has been accounted for. Twenty two slave girls were lost. It is thought that four free woman were seized as well, but that has not been confirmed. Now that an inventory of property has been completed, someone will get around to seeing just how many free women seem to have gone missing. It is four or five. Maybe six. That will be confirmed today. Arjentia, for the record, was not taken. Nor were the slaves. Our camp was quite a bit smaller than most in the caravan, more easily defended I suppose. With Mathor, Me, Tasta and Darwin watching over the seven of them, my women were well looked after. Even the purportedly free one.
There are relays, men stationed on all four sides of the caravan at half pasang intervals. The call came swiftly from the relays at the south and west of us. 'Bandits!' That call passed through the caravan. Fires were doused. Property was chained down. Valuables secured as well as possible, given the time. And then nothing. We were utterly silent, huddling like little urts. Waiting. I heard nothing but the frightened breathing of kajirae. Mathor took a knee. He trained his crossbow at the night sky, scanning. Darwin held the gladius, commanded by Mathor to take up arms. The fellow looked out of sorts, honestly, compared to how I remembered him in Thentis, but I was not surprised. I fingered a saddle knife, one of seven I have had in my possession for better than twenty years. We waited.
It was the bellow of a bosk cow that marked our position. I could hear the bolt caroming off of the roof several wagons ahead of our position and, too, saw the wagon marked by a blaze. We then saw twenty, perhaps thirty tarnsmen, their shadows against the moonlit sky, descend upon us as if from nowhere. Another wagon saw its roof fired. And then a third and a fourth were burning. Slaves screamed. I saw the capture loop of a bird snare the waist of a girl as she ran, terrified. A free woman was taken, robes and all, in the talons of another bird. It was a mistake for that tarnsman seeking loot to descend upon our modest campsite. The women were chained and beneath the cover of tenting, for one. For two, Mathor was waiting for him. He is a fearsome fellow. I think he likes it. The killing. The battle, at any rate. He is a Warrior. Those that think him a merehired hand at a brothel in a district of ill-repute are well-advised to reconsider their opinions. He had the drop on the tarnsman whose mount buffeted us with fierce winds and the scream of its kind as they charged. Mathor simply watched and then pulled the trigger, burying the bolt in the fellow's heart. He then, mechanically, stoically, began to wind the bow again, locking another quarrel in the guide. Still, though there were doubtless many like him in the line of wagons, Warriors, there were not nearly enough. We were severely taxed by the attack methods of the bandits from Treve. They came in waves, firing and retreating. Our men could do little more than defend, having precious few opportunites to mount an offense. It seemed that they would have their way with us, taking what they wished, as men of their ilk are well accustomed to doing.
"It is the calvary of Thentis!" was the first cry I heard.
And, indeed, I saw the dark shapes winging their way into the fray from the North. It seemed that there were two, perhaps three times the force of the bandits en route to engage the enemy. "We are saved!" called out a sutler, his wagon one position ahead of ours on the caravan.
Watching the sky, it was like a rake clearing leaves from a yard or a broom sweeping debris from the floor. I saw no evidence of battle. When the men of Thentis entered the fray, the men of Treve simply withdrew, in haste.
Later, I was speaking with Vesutto, who was kind enough to check in on our site.
Mathor remained diligent, still tense, itching for the battle and he cautioned Darwin to do the same, informing him, "It is not the time to consider the blonde whore. Mind your post."
I found that was of interest, but thought little of it at the time.
"They are all accounted for," I told Vesutto. "We were fortunate."
It was at that moment a fellow strode toward our side, plumed helmet in the crook of his arm. He introduced himself as the Captain of the tarnsmen, sent from Clark of Thentis.
"We received intelligence," he explained, "that Terrence of Treve would strike a caravan south of the Olni tonight."
Before the Captain took his leave, eager to resume the pursuit of the bandits, he mentioned that fifteen men were authorized to remain with the caravan as far as Lara, which is on the shores of the Vosk. Vesutto left soon after the Captain. I did not begrudge him, of course. He had a long evening ahead of him. We unchained the womenand set them about the task of righting the camp. There was much to do. One girl, however, an auburn-maned slave, had duties to tend to, at least for a few moments, within my tent. Slave girls may be used in several ways other than for simple sexual gratification, though such a pleasant thing is difficult, if not impossible, to avoid. Raping one, for example, tends to calm one's nerves. I used her, releasing whatever tension or anger that had risen in me, before sending her out to work with the others. It helped me to relax.