We’d crested the pass to the western road, Sea of Ghosts on our right, mountains to our left. Anglin and Angven were in the lead, their white painted sled blending into the background well, as did their solid white clothing, white dogs, and white head wraps. Their sled was kicking up a small flurry, but otherwise they were invisible against the backdrop of snow drifts. There wasn’t much of a road to follow at the moment, a blizzard had rolled through a few days before. It was a great white desert, with ten thousand little places to hide in.

A bird call rang from the twins, they’d seen something to the left and cut hard to head for it. Something was glinting on the mountain, between the snow-laden trees. I returned their call, an order for them to give up the lead and fall in. Anglin raised his fist and pumped it to let me know he’d heard. We’d come up with better ways than yelling to communicate, but it was still primitive. I took us in towards the foothills, into a clutch of trees to stash the sleds. The sled dogs had learned to stay with them while we moved on foot, a good way to prevent thievery from men or otherwise.

“What’d you make of the glint Angven?” I asked his opinion first.

“Someone waving a sword or axe. I couldn’t make out a body, but the glint was moving in a rhythm.” I looked to Anglin.

“It could have been a bottlechime, hunters use them sometimes around their camps. It’s worth checking.” A bottlechime wasn’t something that had crossed my mind, I’d thought sword like Angven had, at least after the first instant. My first reflex had been scope.

“We’ll head up around the side, and try to work our way above them. Once we’re close, the pair of you sneak in for a look. If it’s a small camp, or there’s men in the open, we’ll take them and fade away. Let’s get these dogs loose.” We were halfway up the slope when Icefoot went still. We’d learned to trust the wolves, and tucked into the snow as he did. I realized why a moment later, a very slight smell wafted over us with the breeze. Sweat, soiled clothes, and blood. Icefoot let out a very quiet growl, and started move to the right. I sent Karliene with him, while us monkeys went left. The next clearing found us two targets. A pair of men in shabby armor were checking rabbit snares. I lowered my voice to a tiny whisper.

“Head shots only. Can you do it?” I looked to the twins. They nodded, and very slowly rose up, bows drawn. Angven’s bow creaked as he drew back to full extension, one of the bandits turned to see the arrow headed for his eye. He didn’t get a shout off. Anglin’s arrow caught the second in the temple, both bandits were dead before they hit the ground. Neither one of them had much of interest, aside from their coins and hands. We stashed the jingly pouches at the point we’d shot from. Riga left a frost rune between the bodies at my instruction. If anything came looking for them, they’d get a nasty surprise. We crept forwards, closer to the camp that was materializing through the trees. The dogs rejoined us swiftly, Karliene had a bloody muzzle. We hadn’t heard a sound. I called a halt while we were still a few hundred yards away from the camp.

“You two, head south up the mountain, watch out for wild life. Riga and I are going to lay a spread of runes in this tree line. When you come back, bypass it and come back around from the east so you don’t hit one, alright?” The twins nodded, and slipped off into the mountains with their hound. It was remarkable how fast they could get lost in the snow. I’d completely lost my sight of them within a minute.

“Riga, we’re going to make a fatal funnel. This right here is the throat of it. We want the bandits to come in from this point here. People will opt to go through the widest, best gap in the trees. Crawl along.” I explained my methodology to her. They weren’t land mines, but they were close enough. Riga had put six of them down when we heard a voice carry through the trees.

“Oljin! Come on, lunch stew’s ready!” The man was about a hundred yards away. We waited for a few seconds, there was no answer.

“Oljin! I know you can hear me you drunk! Come on before it gets cold!” I crept around a tree to get a look at the bandit. He was starting to get nervous, his hand drifted down to the blade on his belt.

“Riga, start making noise like a dying man. Groan, moan, softly. Bring him over here.” I left the girl to figure it out. She shot me a look, but did her best imitation. It was alright. The bandit didn’t hear it at first, then Riga let out a slightly louder groan.

“Oljin? Oljin where are you?” The bandit looked worried, and started towards the girl. I was on the backside of a snow drift, ten yards to her right. The bandit wouldn’t be able to see either of us until he was very close, too close. I had a hand on my axe covering, ready to loose the blade the moment he was close enough. Ten steps. Seven. Five. Four.

“Oljin?” One. The bandit had his back to me, taking short, hesitant steps toward Riga. I was up and moving, axe raised high before he registered my steps. The bandit was quick, I had to give him credit for that, but he was defending against the wrong thing. He raised a leg to kick out, expecting an animal, and caught my axe with his spine. His head tumbled off, rolling in the snow. I knelt down, quickly chopped his hand, and slipped down next to Riga.

“Put a rune next to his body. The men in camp will have heard him yelling. They’ll come looking in force now.” We gave up the position in the tree line for one on a low rise, about where I’d thought the twins would come back through. It had an overlook on the funnel we’d created, and I drew my bow to string it up. Riga did the same.

“They’ll either walk through that funnel or follow the bandit’s tracks. once we start shooting, they’ll bolt into the trees and hit the runes. Just be patient.” I settled the girl. She had an eager excitement drumming her fingers. It took a few minutes, but soon enough there was a party on the other side of the trees. They split, three following the man’s tracks, two went through the gap in the tree line. I waited for the two to be in the open, and tapped Riga. We both rose over the lip of the rise, and loosed a pair of arrows. My shot hit just low of center mass, Riga hit hers in the leg. They both went down screaming, which prompted their friends to crash through the trees.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

One rune went off, then a second, with the third confused man emerging into the middle. Riga and I rose up for a second shot, but a pair of arrows tagged the last running bandit’s back. My attention went to one of the bandits wounded by the frost runes. She was crying, her legs instantly frost-bitten, and trying to drag herself out of the trees in a daze. Riga loosed her shot first, and sunk the arrow fletching deep into the bandit’s shoulder. Mine went high, driving uselessly into the snow behind the she-bandit. I heard the whistle of another arrow, it must have been the twins shooting from the other side of the tree line.

“Easy, let’s see what happens now.” We waited for a minute, then two. The bandits we’d wounded were laying in the snow moaning. Riga’s leg shot was trying to scoot away back into the treeline. I tapped her to put another arrow into him, he caught it high in the chest and stopped crawling. My gutshot was slowly rolling back and forth. He wouldn’t move, but it’d take him a long fucking time to die.

A bird call, this time a mountain owl sang through the trees. It was Anglin asking us to rally up with them. Riga, Karliene and I made our way through the rocks higher on the mountain, and came in behind the twins. Angven waved us forwards without looking, the snarky git.

“What’d you see in the camp?” I asked as I settled behind a rock.

“The five of them were sitting around. When you took the loud one, they got worried. The camp was pretty simple, just a few tents and a rope line with bone chimes. They’ve got a horse tied up we could take. Nine bandits in our first raid isn’t bad.” Anglin answered.

“We’re sure that’s all of them?”

“No one else is in the tents, No recent tracks leading away. There aren’t enough tents for a bigger group to be out raiding the road. I’d say we got them all.” Angven nodded his certainty.

“What about the ones you shot? We shot two dead, one’s hurt bad.” I peeked over the rock. Angven pointed out the other bandit that had hit a rune, he was nailed to a tree with an arrow in the neck.

“We put arrows in the one that made it to your side, so if he’s dead, that’s all of them. Eight dead, one survivor?” Angven asked for confirmation.

“Yeah, that’s the run of it. Let’s loot the place and take the prisoner back to the Jarl as proof.” We got to work again, pillaging the camp first, taking the horse, and tying up a chest of loot to the saddle. The dying bandit was last on the list, he’d tried to move, but hadn’t gotten far.

“Hey there friend. Seems you’re in a bit of a bind there, with that arrow sticking out of you.” I kicked him in the leg, drawing a pained grunt. There wasn’t much blood for how long he’d been bleeding.

“Please, help.” He asked weakly. The pain must have sucked. The cold too.

“I’ll help you, if you answer my questions. Deal?”

“Anything you want! Just get this damned arrow out of me.” He got a bit of fire in his voice.

“Not so fast. Which gang are you with?” I stepped on his leg.

“What does it matter? They’re all dead but me.” The man groaned as I started putting weight down.

“My foot’s going to start going higher till you answer the question.” I moved it up to his thigh.

“Gah! Damn you and Merkin’s lot too. We’re the Snow Caps, you ought to know that. How much did Merkin want for our territory?” The man chuckled through the pain.

“He’s cleaning house after that business with Black Tooth. Apparently you boys on the western road aren’t pulling in enough bodies for his other business, so you’ve been volunteered for the corpse parade.” I took my foot off the bandit, there was real fear in his eyes now.

“Wait, wait we never agreed to that! It was gold only!” The bandit protested.

“Huh. Guess that’s why this plot was cheap. If you aren’t in the body business, who is around here? I don’t like competition.” The threat of fates worse than death was far, far better than torture. The bandit sang like a drunken bard.

“The Wraiths! They’re camped just on the other side of that mountain. Oh gods just get this arrow out of me and I’ll show you where they are. Bastards don’t care about who they take, so long as it pays.” He moaned.

“How many of them are there? Ten? Twenty?”

“No, not so many. Maybe a dozen at most. They’ve got two mages though. Shouldn’t be a problem for you, you must have twenty good men. How about one more eh?” The bandit was begging now.

“You’ve never taken bodies? Surely you’ve had to kill a few on the road. Why pass up the gold?” I didn’t give him an answer.

“I never killed a man that didn’t deserve it, and I’ve never harmed woman or child. Most travelers give up without a fight if you got the numbers after all. The things Merkin’s selling those bodies for… that’s not the business I want to be mixed up in. If it weren’t for his gang I wouldn’t be up in these hills…” False recognition dawned on his eyes, then horror.

“I mean…” He thought we were Merkin’s killers.

“The Jarl will be very interested in what you have to say about Merkin and his gang. Angven, get that arrow out of him and bind his hands. Riga, once he’s bound you can heal him.” I smirked at the bandit. He scowled in confusion for a moment, then it hit him.

“You aren’t a bandit.”

“No, I’m worse. I’m the new law man around these parts. Anglin, finish up with their hands, our new friend can keep his for now. You’d best behave yourself, or I’ll put that arrow right back into you and leave you bound up on the ice for the wolves to eat. Understand me?” The bandit nodded, a new horror slowly coming to his face. He was expecting someone like Hemjar. He’d probably end up with Hemjar if he didn’t cooperate fully. Maybe he could fill in the map for us. On that thought, I reached into my cloak for where I’d kept the map tucked.

The Bandit Camp? marker had shifted to Snow Caps Camp, Cleared. It was a helpful little thing. I looked nearby for another camp marker, to see if the Wraiths were one we’d known about. There wasn’t one, but a quick few questions about that camp with the bandit put a new marker down, with a small circle of error around it. I was tempted to go take a look now, but if we turned back, we could still make it back to Winterhold before nightfall.

I decided to get while the getting was good. We’d plundered a fair fortune from the camp, five hundred pieces or so, some old armor, a few steel weapons, a very talkative prisoner, and a journal on one of the dead ones. A brief skim showed the woman hadn’t been very educated, and the journal was mostly personal. It was still worth reading when I had the chance.

The twins tied the bandit’s horse to their sled, the bandit himself was bound to mine. We’d make it back to Winterhold before long, and then we’d be back out here. The Wraiths sounded like a promising lead on finding the necromancers. Time would tell.