Steve Oldbury
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Registered: 06-2008
Posts: 52
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Mean while . . .
The rain lashed down on Werewood, shaking dead leaves from the trees beating down on bushes and undergrowth and driving every creature into the shelter of its nest or den. The air was chilled, snow in the air but not yet fallen through the pounding rain mist started to form along the rivers and steams, filling hollows and dells in the forest. It drifted and rolled beneath the bare trees looking for all the world like ghosts, tormented souls of lonely places.
Brown Seth looked out from the cave mouth; water falling like a waterfall, along the roof of the cave water ran and dripped, now and again a large cold drip falling down his grimy neck making him curse. He shivered and pulled the ragged cloak around him; a nobles fine velvet, a woman’s cloak, now ragged and torn and stained beyond saving by months of rough living. His eyes moved restlessly scanning the forest around the cave mouth alert for an intruder ready to sound an alarm and warn the other bandits in the cave. Seth spat in disgust between his two remaining teeth, sure this was a fools task no one live would be out on a day like this, he shivered wishing for a moment that he be allowed a fire while he was on sentry duty.
It had been a good year, the tensions between the earldoms meant more troops were at the border facing the troops of the rebels, that meant less troops guarding the roads and the villages of Fensgard A warm summer and less patrols had made the bandits drowsy as glutted wolves, as the year turned many had returned to town and village where few questions would be asked if your coin was good. But the core of the group remained at their cave, these were men who’s faces and crimes were known and returning to civilisation would lead to a quick appointment with the gallows. As well as Brown Seth there were the Harrison brothers, twins who had deserted from the army of Lord Wilfred de Burne, Blacksmith Will, named for the great hammer he carried as his weapon of preference, Gelding Maurice a man who’s love in life was the use of his quick, quick knives on captives. Simple Simon not as stupid as his name suggested was the groups lock man, skilled at making the hardest lock look simple and if it didn’t give in to his probing would smash it with his axe. Black Molly did the groups cooking and leeched wounds, she claimed to be witch but Seth doubted her claims. Finally there was Gentry Dave the gangs unchallenged leader, a man of ruthless mind and iron muscle who’s word was law to the outlaws who followed him.
Seth’s thoughts came to a sudden stop as a girl appeared in the cave mouth the shock almost making him choke, young and pretty, a rough cloak about her shoulders over a cheap wool dress, she had moved silently to the side of the cave mouth and step within with familiarity that made Seth’s hand stop as he reached for his sword. That she had known the cave was there was obvious, but she didn’t look like the kind of lass who had been there before, at least not willingly, and definitely not like the kind a bandit might confide in. She stopped when she saw him, but her eyes showed no fear, merely a certain curiosity like a child seeing a new type of insect for the first time.
Pulling himself together, Seth drew his sword and rose to his feet, but still the maid showed no concern, merely watching him patiently. He licked his lips and cleared his throat to speak, “Hello pretty maid, now where did you spring from?” he tried to add his most intimidating leer at the end but it just seemed to slide off her. Something about her eyes, ancient in a youthful face made cold sweat add to the rain dripping down his skin. She remained silent, though her skin shivered with the cold and her dress sodden, clung to her like one drown, still her eyes weighed him, making him feel every one of his many sins, and promised worse.
“I.. err I think you better come with me, sweet flower. Gentry Dave’ll be pleased to see so pretty a face, he likes his fun when he wakes.” Gesturing with the sword for her to move ahead of him down the tunnel. She smiled for the first time, and recognition came to her eyes, “Dave, yes he will do very nicely” she murmured and walked on ahead, as if she’d been here many times before. The tunnel was uneven, the roof low but the girl stepped over every root in the dark Seth followed closely growing more uneasy with every step, there was definitely something wrong here, terribly wrong.
The tunnel opened up into a large space, stone lined, once the burial mound of the ancient folk, the dusty bones had been swept from the ledges and what few trinkets they had had were long gone. Lanterns with good oil burnt casting a flickering golden light across the walls making the shadows of the men in the room dance. The outlaws ragged and dirty, squatted on the floor playing at dice, looked up when Brown Seth and the strange girl walked in, eyes hard as those of wild animals reflected the flames as they glared at the stranger in their midst. They sprang to their feet and began to shout questions at Seth the voices drowning each other out so only the odd word and growing anger came from them.
At the back of the room a blanket hung up for privacy twitched and Gentry Dave, stepped through attracted by the noise from his band. Gentry Dave was a tall man and one with a reputation, he boasted of being a wanted man in counties across four Earldoms, his fame such that bounty hunters were known to come looking for him now and again. No matter how ragged his band Dave always dressed in the finest, the origin of his nickname, that and a basic grasp of courtly manners. His arrival silenced the band instantly, Dave was not a man to tolerate hecklers or gainsayers. “Come, come, gentles is this anyway to appear before a guest?” he gave them a quick grin before moving through them to the girl and Brown Seth, who hopped from foot to foot in a nervous jig. “Mr Brown, if you are here still who is guarding our gate? If it is unattended we might have thieves and montebanks stealing our finest silverware. And that would make me very cross indeed” Brown Seth finally took the hint and fled back to his post, tripping over a root in a cursing bundle in his haste.
The bandit leader turned back to the girl, “Now milady, I know not what strange Fate brought such a fair vessel to our humble port, but it behoves me to welcome you. I am Gentry Dave and these are my noble and elegant companions, with whom I share many a merry jape and advent…” the bandit stopped talking as the girl stared at him and raised her finger to her lips in pantomime of silence. “For the love of the ***** who spawned you Dave, stow your windage, your voice hurts my ears and your babbling drowns out me thoughts!” the girl snapped at him. Dave took a half step forward, face tallow white with rage his fist rising to punish the girl. The girl didn’t move, didn’t flinch as the outlaw raised his hand, “How’s ya knee Dave? The left one where the arrow made such a mess?” the girl asked and her foot lashed out catching him in the left knee. The outlaw lead howled in pain and as his men sprang forward the girl moved quicker stepping in and around Dave her hand grabbing for his left wrist and coming up with a small sharp knife that she held to the outlaws throat. “Call ya dogs off Dave if ya don’t want another mouth. We need to talk, or rather I’m gonna talk and you need to listen”, she said and Dave desperately waved his men back as he felt the prick of the knife over his artery.
When all was silent again, the girl spoke and there was something old and evil in her voice, “Don’t ya know me Dave? Don’t ya remember who carried ya with that arrow in ya leg? I know you Gentry Dave, I know all ya little secrets, I know where ya hide your loot, I know why ya don’t like the colour blue, I know that your probably diddling these fools and how ya doing it. And ya know how I know so much Dave? I’m more than my father’s daughter. I’m Tom, and I’ve got plans for thee” Fear and supernatural dread welled up in the outlaw chief and he began to scream…
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