One Night On Treasure Road

I took them for scouts from the walls of Samnium. At the time, we were about three or four days outside the city. With the moons full, it was easy to spot two riders silouhetted in the night sky. Our camp was at the confluence of the Cartius River and Treasure Road. Being of Ar, one assumes the alternate name for the Eastern Way has its origins in the riches regularly transported from the west to the east. As on any Gorean road, however, for the bold tarnsman or desperate bandit, a caravan of wagons spells treasure - fiscal temptation too great to pass up.
The two tarnsmen I took to be scouts were, perhaps, just that. Advance riders, but not for the City of Samnium. Their loyalties, as we would soon find out, were more mercenary. I had wandered off with Noemi across the stretch of road that spanned the Cartius, both to spend some time away from the other travelers and to allow Tasta some freedom from her chain. The sleen bounded off on the trail of her supper, and I found a spot at the edge of the river to cool my feet. The attack was sudden. I was alerted perhaps a few ihn before the camp proper threw up the alarm. Buffeted by a strong wind kicked up by half a dozen riders, we were nearly sent tumbling into the river. I grabbed the girl and started up the hill. I could hear the shouting on the other side of the river as the men of the camp fought to repulse the attack. It was my thought to stash the blonde slave out of sight near the bridge and then cross to help if I could.
Apparently, the girl with me was spotted however. As I started up the hill with her, we were again assaulted with the gust of the tarn's descent and its challenging avian cry. I shoved Noemi to the grass and suffered a glancing blow from a weight attached to the rider's capture net.
He made his first pass. I knew he would come again. I was only one man in the open, defending a lovely prize. The odds were definitely in his favor, particularly with the stars popping before my eyes and the cold sweat complementing the struggle to remain conscious. As I started for the bridge again, the blonde slave screamed for the sleen as she struggled to pull me in the opposite direction, to the water. The rider was already making his second pass. There was no time. The rest all happened too fast. I remember hearing that throaty growl of Tasta as the talons of the rider's large, sable tarn stretched forth, eager to engage. I could not find the monster in the darkness until the moment she leapt between me and the bird, and then I was buffeted by her, thrown to my back as she bit into its leg, where feathers meet claw. I could hear cheering from the other side of the river as the tarnsman above me struggled to take off with the weight of a fully grown sleen depended from his mount's leg. My forehead felt cold and damp. I could not keep my eyes open.
I don't know for what duration of time I was out, but it couldn't have been too long. I remember thinking Noemi was cold and wet against my side, apparently having made it to the water. Then we were back in the camp, but I can't recall crossing the bridge. People seemed in good spirits, though a few complained about their losses. The rest of that evening, as they say, is a blur. Drinking in moderation these days, it was a disconcerting reminder of a not-so-distant past.
We altered our itinerary, which would have taken us through Samnium and then through Brundisium. Having arrived in Market of Semris this morning, most of the Merchants in this caravan seem content to sell their goods right here. Some will press forth to the coast as planned to port cities south of Brundisium, perhaps as far south as Bazi.
The adventure has only just begun.