with the driver of one of the wagons but most of the rest had been sprawled across the contents of the open carts. One of the tents being erected was much larger than the others and the leader's two women disappeared inside as soon as it was up. The other women busied themselves helping to unload the carts and prepare the evening meal.
There was another woman as well who caught the watcher's eye. She had travelled in one of the covered wagons but she was not manacled like the slaves and she was clearly not one of the camp followers. She was better dressed and from a distance appeared more beautiful than the leader's two women but she did not go into the leader's tent. Instead she stayed by the wagons and seemed to ignore the activity going on around her. She had what could best be described as presence but with no obvious role or authority. He could not fit her into any of the easy categories but noted that all of the camp followers and most of the men walked cautiously around her.
His attention was diverted then by the arrival of the outriders; the two point riders coming back down the trail that forded the stream, two more coming in from the far side of the camp and another two following the side trail over the ridge about eighty paces to the east of where the observer sat. Despite himself, he was impressed. He had known they were out there of course, but it was another indication that this was more than just an ordinary band of brigands and slavers. Some of them, definitely the leader and almost certainly some of the others, had received military training at some point.
His horse stirred as a small animal disturbed by the riders on the trail, rustled through the undergrowth behind them. He leaned forward slightly to rub the horse's neck and whisper in its ear. The rustling faded away and horse and rider resumed their watch.
When he had found the group earlier in the day there had been more of them, nearer sixty on his original count. Somewhere along the trail as he manoeuvred to keep out of sight of the outriders, a group of them had split off. So now they waited, horse and man looking as though carved from a single block of wood as they stood motionless, concealed from view by the beech trees that crested the ridge.
The late afternoon sun was rapidly heading towards the treetops and an autumn mist was starting to form over the stream. The first frosts were still a few weeks away he judged, but already the evenings were turning chilly. The camp fire below was starting to catch now and the slaves were being herded away towards the trees to collect armfuls of dry wood.
One of the sentries shouted a challenge and all around the camp men reached for weapons, checking swords in their scabbards and reaching for bows ready to string. Two of the horses had been kept saddled and tethered to the wagons and the giant swordsman and the leader of the group were mounted before the answering hail came from down the trail. The camp relaxed again as another five horsemen rode out from under the gloomy trees and into the circle of firelight. It had obviously been a successful hunt as one of the horsemen had the carcass of a deer laid across the front of his saddle. He dismounted to the congratulations of the camp and a grudging nod from the leader. They would eat well tonight.
The watcher on the ridge waited until the camp had settled down again before he moved, backing his mount cautiously down the far side of the ridge and then angling across to cut the trail the outriders had followed. He crested the ridge and started down towards the clearing. It was almost full dark now and neither of the moons had risen yet so, although he was not trying to creep up on them, his approach on the side trail was not detected. He stopped at the edge of the clearing and hailed the camp.
“Halloo the camp”.
The results were electric. As before men reached for weapons and bows were strung. The leader and the giant were mounted and threw their
There was another woman as well who caught the watcher's eye. She had travelled in one of the covered wagons but she was not manacled like the slaves and she was clearly not one of the camp followers. She was better dressed and from a distance appeared more beautiful than the leader's two women but she did not go into the leader's tent. Instead she stayed by the wagons and seemed to ignore the activity going on around her. She had what could best be described as presence but with no obvious role or authority. He could not fit her into any of the easy categories but noted that all of the camp followers and most of the men walked cautiously around her.
His attention was diverted then by the arrival of the outriders; the two point riders coming back down the trail that forded the stream, two more coming in from the far side of the camp and another two following the side trail over the ridge about eighty paces to the east of where the observer sat. Despite himself, he was impressed. He had known they were out there of course, but it was another indication that this was more than just an ordinary band of brigands and slavers. Some of them, definitely the leader and almost certainly some of the others, had received military training at some point.
His horse stirred as a small animal disturbed by the riders on the trail, rustled through the undergrowth behind them. He leaned forward slightly to rub the horse's neck and whisper in its ear. The rustling faded away and horse and rider resumed their watch.
When he had found the group earlier in the day there had been more of them, nearer sixty on his original count. Somewhere along the trail as he manoeuvred to keep out of sight of the outriders, a group of them had split off. So now they waited, horse and man looking as though carved from a single block of wood as they stood motionless, concealed from view by the beech trees that crested the ridge.
The late afternoon sun was rapidly heading towards the treetops and an autumn mist was starting to form over the stream. The first frosts were still a few weeks away he judged, but already the evenings were turning chilly. The camp fire below was starting to catch now and the slaves were being herded away towards the trees to collect armfuls of dry wood.
One of the sentries shouted a challenge and all around the camp men reached for weapons, checking swords in their scabbards and reaching for bows ready to string. Two of the horses had been kept saddled and tethered to the wagons and the giant swordsman and the leader of the group were mounted before the answering hail came from down the trail. The camp relaxed again as another five horsemen rode out from under the gloomy trees and into the circle of firelight. It had obviously been a successful hunt as one of the horsemen had the carcass of a deer laid across the front of his saddle. He dismounted to the congratulations of the camp and a grudging nod from the leader. They would eat well tonight.
The watcher on the ridge waited until the camp had settled down again before he moved, backing his mount cautiously down the far side of the ridge and then angling across to cut the trail the outriders had followed. He crested the ridge and started down towards the clearing. It was almost full dark now and neither of the moons had risen yet so, although he was not trying to creep up on them, his approach on the side trail was not detected. He stopped at the edge of the clearing and hailed the camp.
“Halloo the camp”.
The results were electric. As before men reached for weapons and bows were strung. The leader and the giant were mounted and threw their