The Unsuspecting Mage - Brian S. Pratt [132]
The morning dawns dark, the sun unable to pierce the dark clouds stretching from horizon to horizon. They awake to blankets damp from a light sprinkle that fell during the night. Not enough to soak but enough to make everything wet. The thunder storm has long since passed, for which Miko is very grateful. Taking just enough time for a quick breakfast, they are soon on the road.
Shortly after they head out, a light rain begins to fall. They break out their ponchos that they acquired some time earlier in Cardri.
The rain continues all morning, with a kind of an on again off again pattern. The cloud cover remains constant, with nary a break to allow the sun through. A little before noon, the rain begins increasing until it becomes a steady downpour that soon turns the road into mud, and the ditch running alongside into a small stream.
“I hate the rain,” complains Miko. “Can’t we find someplace to wait it out?”
Glancing around at the endless grasslands extending in all directions, James says, “Where would you like to start?”
Looking sullen, Miko hunkers down in his poncho and stays quiet.
With no great desire to stop in the rain, they eat their meal in the saddle, stopping only shortly to give the horses grain and a break from their weight. Later on as the day progresses, James notices what looks to be a caravan stopped in the road ahead. By the number of wagons, it’s a big one.
“Maybe we could ride in a wagon and get out of the rain?” Miko suggests, looking hopeful toward James.
James shakes his head, “They would be too slow and I seriously doubt if they would let strangers in with their goods.”
As they approach the caravan, things begin to look a bit odd. First of all, the wagons weren’t moving. As they draw closer, James begins to see why; none of the wagons have any horses.
“Trouble,” he says to Miko.
“What are we going to do?” Miko asks.
“See if we can render aid, they may have been hit by bandits,” he says as he quickly brings his horse toward the end wagon. “Keep your eyes open and holler if you see anything.”
Approaching the rear wagon, they find the driver slumped over, two arrows protruding from his back. Cautiously moving alongside the wagon train, they make their way toward the lead wagon. More dead drivers begin to appear, either slumped over on their wagons, or lying upon the ground next to them. Near the center of the column they come across twelve slain guards, testimony to a battle which had raged here. Their bodies were hacked and stabbed, many having been pierced with arrows.
Proceeding on, they continue toward the lead wagon where they discover a man who obviously must have been the merchant in charge of the caravan if his fine clothes were any indication. Six arrows protruded from his lifeless body and his lifeless hand still grips the stock of a crossbow. He didn’t go down without a fight.
A smashed chest sits on the ground by the wagon, its top had been smashed open. James looks inside only to find it empty. “Looks like it was bandits that hit them,” he says. Turning to Miko he continues, “Check all the bodies, see if anyone is still alive.”
Moving back down the caravan, they go about the grisly task of searching for any survivors who may require their help. They check dead body after dead body and begin to think that there is no one still alive. It wasn’t until they reach the middle of the caravan where all the guards lie slain upon the ground that Miko yells out, “James, over here! We’ve got a live one.”
Hurrying over, James reaches him just as Miko turns the man over onto his back. It’s one of the guards. A large bump protrudes from the guard’s forehead, which on a cursory examination, appears to be his only wound. Suddenly, the man’s eyes flutter open and he tenses up when he finds James and Miko standing over him.
“We are not going to hurt you,” James says reassuringly. “We are not with those that attacked you.”
“Who are you then?” the man asks.
Gesturing to himself, he says,