It had been a wet Spring and a pair of sturdy draft horses pulling a reinforced wagon struggled in the quagmire which had once been the western road. A short and plump man sat upon the wagon’s high box, whipping the poor animals as they floundered in the mud which sucked at horse’s legs and mired them deeper in the mud. A thin youth of no more than fifteen years stood at the head of the team, pulling at the reigns as he struggled to stay upright in the cloying mud. Four guards, clad in metal and leather, sat astride their mounts a short distance away, watching with bemused faces as the merchant and his assistant attempted to extricate the wagon. The sound of the merchant’s angry voice echoed through the forest and the sound of his whip cracking above the horse’s heads was sharp in the otherwise quiet wood.
Lying a short distance away, in a ditch that had been dug into the forest floor and covered lightly with fragrant pine tree boughs, a group of twelve men and women sat and watched the wagon and its escort. They sat silent and still as they waited for the moment to strike. Twyst crouched in the hiding spot, peering through the branches, her eyes watching the mounted guards intently. They had settled back in their saddles, apparently content to watch the struggling wagon for as long as it took. Their weapons were holstered, one had removed his helmet and the other was taking a generous drink from a hide canteen and passing it around. Without being able to smell or see the liquid, Twyst was still quite sure that it was not water that he drank so lustily. He passed the canteen to his comrades and they took turns drinking.
“We need not have brought half our force. This will be as easy as taking sweets from a baby!” A man’s voice whispered close to Twyst’s ear. She could feel his breath close to her neck and she quietly shifted away from him.
“How much longer should we wait?” Twyst asked, trying to mask her conscious retreat with her words. “Despite the merchant’s impatience they will soon have the wagon free.”
“Let them take a few more drinks from that bottle. Based on his red cheeks, it ain’t mother’s milk they’re drinking.”
Twyst nodded despite the fact that the speaker couldn’t see her. She wasn’t quite convinced that Tucker’s plan of action was best. They had lain in wait for over six hours for the wagon to pass, had pulled pails of water from a nearby stream to add to the muddy mess that the horses were currently flailing in, had sat immovable for hours waiting and now sat anxiously waiting for Tucker’s ‘right moment’. The group were edgy, cold and wet. The sooner they completed the job the better. The longer Tucker let the men sit stewing in anxiety the more likely it was that they would let the situation get ahead of them and someone would make a mistake. While they easily outmanned the merchant and his ‘trained’ guards, Twyst would still rather return to base camp with a successful haul and the entire group intact. She forced her heart rate to remain normal, watching and waiting just as anxious as her comrades around her.
“Now!” Tucker hissed and the pine boughs were flung back and the men and women leaped up the ridge and dashed the short distance towards the road and trapped wagon.
Twyst scrambled up the muddy embankment and across the pine-shrouded landscape. She was one of the last out of the dugout and watched with some concerns as her brothers and sisters in arms scrambled eagerly towards the wagon. Several of them waved their weapons in the air and one of them let out a shrill call, a war cry that alerted the guards sitting lazily upon their horses.
The guards bolted upright in their saddles, the canteen dropped and the guards hastened to unsheathe their weapons. The youth that had been pulling at the horse’s reigns dropped them and darted into the woods, duty to his employer forgotten in his haste to get away. The merchant slid to one side of the box, holding the horsewhip before him. The guards were struggling to form up ranks, their nervousness sapped through their saddles and into the horses beneath them. The animals shied nervously, refusing to heed their rider’s eager prods.
One of the raiders had already reached the wagon and was leaping up onto the box to accost the merchant. The merchant shrieked, a high pitched sound that seemed unnatural coming from the rotund man. He lashed out fearfully with his whip. The raider laughed giddily and grabbed at the whip, pulling it and forcing the merchant to topple over. The raider shoved the merchant and sent him sprawling into the mud mere inches from where the thick horse’s hooves were thrashing in the mud.
The guards had finally regained some semblance of whatever training they had been given. They galloped up towards the invading raiders slashing at the raiders with their weapons from atop the horses. Their movements were clumsy and the raiders swarmed around them, grabbing at the horse’s reigns and pulling at the guards. One of them was pulled from his saddle and swiftly disarmed. Two others struggled to keep astride as they swung long swords too long and unwieldy to be effectual as they sat on their tall mounts. The third, seeing that the battle was lost, turned his mount harshly and spurred the animal on, fleeing down the muddy road with a hail of the raider’s arrows following him.
Tucker leapt onto the wagon’s roof and roared excitedly. The three remaining guards were swiftly subdued and tied. The merchant, having barely missed being trampled by his horses was tied amongst them and he sat muttering in Mathosian, stamping his booted feet against the muddy ground like a child throwing a tantrum. The raiders gathered around the wagon as Tucker leapt to the ground and splashed through the mud to the rear of the vehicle. The wagon was reinforced with bands of iron, the rear door locked by a heavy and imposing lock. A grinning raider handed Tucker a small leather pouch. Carefully Tucker untied the pouch and carefully poured a small amount of its contents, a silver finely grained powder, into the lock. Upon touching the lock the powder began to hiss and spark. The raiders, Tucker included, drew back as the lock exploded. The wagon’s horses reared and jerked trying to pull themselves free of the wagon but due to the mud and the heavy wagon, they were unable to gallop away and stood snorting and tossing their heads in anguish.
As the smoke cleared, Tucker battered the ruined lock away and pulled open the wagon’s door. Within sat stacks upon stacks of shining silver bars. Tucker smiled broadly and leapt into the wagon. He picked up one bar and held it out towards the raiders who cheered eagerly. Tucker tossed the heavy bar to one of the raiders, a bald man of Ethian descent whose wide smile revealed several missing and discolored teeth. The man gripped the bar eagerly. Tucker grabbed several more bars and tossed them down towards the eager raiders who clamored for the bars noisily. Twyst stood at the rear of the crowd, looking on uneasily. Tucker glanced at her and made to toss her a bar but Twyst shook her head quickly.
“Why remove the cargo from the wagon? Maddox can easily free the wagon and horses and we can be on our way immediately. There’s no need to transfer cargo.” Twyst said although she knew that Tucker’s actions had nothing to do with transferring the silver from the mired wagon to their mounts hidden within the woods.
Tucker smiled wryly. He leapt casually from the wagon and strolled through the crowd of raiders who were busy preparing the remaining bars and wagon for get away. He held a thick silver bar in his hand.
“Tsk, tsk little Twyst. Always so concerned with following rules.” He said, shaking his head. He held up the silver bar and tapped her lightly on the cheek with it. Twyst held her head firm, refusing to flinch. “I’ll have the rest of the bars redistributed and Red will never know that there’s anything missing. Besides, what’s the loss of a few bars when he has a whole wagon full. These few items are just…payment.”
“We will be paid once we return the wagon. Red never cheats his raiders.” Twyst said stiffly.
Tucker laughed and several of the raiders nearby glanced up. Someone had gone to retrieve their horses and the greedy raiders were busy stuffing their bars into saddlebags.
“Fifty gold a raider. Fifty gold. Do you know how much this wagon of silver must be worth? Fifty or sixty plat’s worth of silver in this wagon! And all we get is a puny fifty gold pieces. Once we cover our expenses that’s barely enough for a night’s ale and a good whore! He raised his voice as he spoke, inviting the rest of the company to listen in. Several gathered around to listen, nodding their agreement with Tucker’s words.
Twyst glanced around uncertainly. Stealing from a union merchant was difficult enough without stealing from Red. Red Fang’s Marauders was one of the only bandit groups that would plan such a heist. The punishment for being captured stealing from a Merchant Trade Union caravan was death, no matter the amount of goods stolen. This price was too steep for many raiders who considered death for stealing a wagonload of flour too high a price, especially if the flour was recovered. But those who paid the exorbitant fees to be a member of the Merchant Trade Union typically had cargo that was worth stealing and Red Fang figured the rewards outweighed the possible punishment.
But Tucker was contemplating theft from Red Fang himself and that was twice as bad. Red Fang’s punishments would leave a man begging for death….and often denied it. She had heard rumors of others within the band contemplating ‘skimming’ off the top but she had never heard that anyone was fool enough to do such.
The day had gotten quiet and Twyst glanced around to see the rest of the raiding party watching her intently. They knew what Tucker had been saying to her and were waiting on her response. She looked at the faces surrounding her, faces of people she had known for years and some for just a few months. She searched for Maddox. The slight man was standing beside his horse, staring down at his booted feet. He glanced up quickly as if feeling her gaze but just as quickly turned away. What would happen if she decided to go against Tucker and refused to accept a bar of silver as her unofficial profit. She doubted that the others would return their bars. While the raiders were something of a family, she didn’t expect altruism from them. Out here, Tucker was Red’s lieutenant and what he said was just as golden as Red’s own rules. At least, that was what Tucker would have them believe.
“What do you say, little Twyst? Don’t we deserve a bit more for putting our lives on the line like this? One lousy bar of silver? Just one?” Tucker held the bar of silver before her face. Sighing, Twyst reached up and snatched if from his hand.
Tucker smiled widely and turned back to the wagon. As if the world had restarted, the company snapped back into action. Twyst trudged heavily back to her horse. Maddox was holding its reigns. He held the reigns out to her and she snatched them from him angrily.
“What did you expect me to do?” He whispered as she angrily stuffed the ill-gotten silver bar in her saddlebag.
“I expected you not to leave me hanging out to dry like a stuck pig!” Twyst hissed back angrily.
“You wanted to go against Tucker and the rest of the band? You know they all want that silver! The two of us wouldn’t have stood a chance going against Tucker. And he’s right…Fang won’t know the difference!”
“You won’t ever be as powerful as Anona if you are afraid of ten people!” Twyst turned around angrily, spitting out her words carefully. Maddox face reddened.
“They’re armed!” He hissed.
“So are you! You’re supposed to be a robed mage!”
Maddox glared at her, his jaw working angrily.
“Maddox? What the hell are you doing? Get over here and get these horses free so we can get moving!” someone called from the head of the wagon. Maddox glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to Twyst. She could see a faint aura rising above the young man’s head, radiating from him like waves of heat. He need only tap that energy and he would have been able to summon a ball of fire that would have been enough to barbecue Twyst where she stood.
But instead he turned roughly away, stomping through the mud towards the horses. Twyst sighed and shook her head, watching as Maddox performed the spell that rose the horses from the mud and solidified the ground beneath them. It was a simple spell, one that she had watched Anona and Maddox perform dozens of times but despite all his practice it still took him three tries to get the spell right. The band laughed and jeered at each failed attempt which only flustered the young mage more. When the ground had finally been hardened Maddox trotted back to his horse and mounted clumsily, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.
The band mounted and with two raiders atop the wagon’s box, they started away, leaving the merchant and his ill-trained guards to await rescue. Twyst walked slowly behind the wagon, letting her mount trail behind the others. Maddox walked his horse a few feet away, refusing to look in her direction and trying to look comfortable despite the jostling motion of the horse. With each motion of the horse’s powerful body, Twyst could feel the silver bar bump against her legs. The bar seemed to grow in length and size the more they moved and her mind was weighed done by its heft. The rest of the raiders laughed and joked as they casually headed for their camp but their mirth did not extend to the back of the caravan where Twyst and Maddox brooded in silence.