Chapter 80: The Tattered Cloaked Man
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There is a brigand camp blocking the way to a town. This camp is filled with rogues and bandits that live on the gold of the travelers that pass by. The brigands are rather well-equipped. They wore chainmail and armor. They also made road spikes to block the road and only those who pay the toll are able to pass.
The brigand’s number about fifty or more now. Some rogue bandits have decided to join them lately. Therefore their numbers have increased. The camp is located exactly near a stone bridge. They made the other end guarded with two rows of spike and four crossbowmen that are ready to shoot anyone that would try to cross. Of course, crossing the road would be troublesome. Just a few steps away from the two rows of spikes are the camp where most of them are camping. Their camps have tents and any caravan or rovers would be able to detect them just by the smoke that rises from the bonfire they are using.
Not to mention that the bandits have courser horses that are bigger than their tents. They are six-foot tall horses that they imported from the western plains. Some say that the brigand’s migrated in the southern road due to how ‘peaceful’ the roads are. Peaceful roads mean fewer guards and due to that, they are now occupying the road while they can. The army doesn’t march on the southern road and mostly their forces are in the southern ports. They are guarding the docks and considering how lately, the trade in the southern ports is getting hectic. The army cannot pay their attention to the brigand’s that are guarding the road.
The travelers and caravans rather pay the toll. It would be less hassle and there will be less bloodshed. But the brigand’s are rather grubby and their goods are outright taken in front of them. They wouldn’t be able to act simply because of how many they are guarding the road.
Those who tried to struggle would meet their end either by crossbow or the battle-hardened brigand’s that lives mostly on killing. Not to mention that despite being brigand’s they know how to fight. They are well-armed and their equipment allows them to fight even a caravan filled with mercenaries.
The main brigands came from the west and are marksman who could aim well while riding a horse. Most caravans or at least the mercenaries that accompany the caravans do not stay when they see them riding. They are mercenaries and they do not have any loyalty to their masters. They came for gold and although they love gold, they will not die for it.
So mostly the case is that the caravan will get dispersed, and the caravan master will have his head put in the spikes for trying to fight them. The bridge is now filled with twenty heads decorated by those who try to fight them. Seeing the heads usually makes the travelers scared.
Thus they pay the toll and past the bridge quietly. Of course, there are times when paying the toll isn’t enough. For example, when it involves female travelers and farm girls who try to pass only for them to get forced by the brigands to warm their mats. They became their sex slaves and played with all night.
They usually throw away the woman when they are done. Allow them to roam the road with no clothing, only for them to be abducted by a slaver and sold to the worst scum there is. Slavery is rampant in the southern ports of the southern continent. They even import the best ones to a different country, never to return back to the old continent.
Currently, the brigand’s are taking their time drinking and having sex under the moonlight. The sound of them drinking and copulating with the girls they taken hostage could be heard. The captured girls are naked, while the brigands are having fun moving their hips with pleasure and moans.
The brigand’s got their hands on barrels of wine. A foolish carriage driver didn’t know that they had set up camp in the bridge tried to pass without paying the toll. The coachman is already dead, thrown with his headless body into the river below the bridge. The brigands are well satisfied with the fire wine they got. It was spicy, and definitely something that they enjoy. It's night and they mostly gathered in the bonfire, roasting their meats, and having fun with the girls. The girls have long ceased to resist the brigands. They did not have the courage to bit their tongues or kill themselves. They merely let the rogues have a way with their body for they cannot resist.
Of course, some have tried to escape. But most of the time they are either shot in the head or punished. They saw some of the girls having their private parts inserted a baton. The way that girl screamed resounded into most of their ears. Seeing such horrible thing, how can they have the heart?
They pray that they will be saved. They pray that somehow the brigand’s will have mercy on them. It has been days, since the girls that have been serving the brigands. They are tired, and their spirits were mostly wrecked. It all happened too fast, and now in their hearts comes regret, as if they want to go back and prevent themselves from going out. How many gods have they prayed? They couldn’t count and they can only wanly stare the night sky, while moving their hips up and down, serving the brigand’s that have captured them.
What can they do other than obey? They didn’t want to die, and in their hearts is a faint hope that maybe they will be freed. They just have to endure, wait, for anyone to come by. Maybe the Lord of their town or any passing knight would kill the brigands and free them from their lusty hands.
They continued moving their hips. As if it was natural. They did so over and over again until the one they serving would pour their seed on their wombs. They are exhausted, and their breath was so ragged. They tried to take a break but the bandits were quite filled with stamina.
She was one the girls. Her name, what was her name? Over the days, she seemed to have forgotten her name. Was it the alcohol? Or was it the constant violation that made her despaired enough to forget her name? She wasn’t that special, she has a normal black hair, a normal face, and average chest and bosom. Maybe her normality made her attractive to the scum that is violating her? She didn’t know, and normally she would have kicked and resist. But with alcohol, and her stamina drained, how can she resist the battle-hardened rogues that are messing with her body?
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She could only move her hips tired. Her tongue sticking out, uttering moans, which seemed sweet to the bear-like man, she is currently serving. The man was rough, and she has been used over and over again by this man. She became a possession. Like a collared dog that only belongs to this man.
She couldn’t anymore. She just wasted her time moving her hips. That’s when something rumbled in the distance. The bandit’s or at least the watchers heard something. She could recognize the footsteps of a horse. The rattling sound of a cart was also familiar to her. The man who was playing with her stopped. She then raised her head, squeezed her eyes, as she stares at the incoming cart.
She thought that it was rather foolish that someone would come to this place and travel at night. She looked at the bandits who stood up with their weapons drawn. They eagerly waited as the cart slowly appears in their vision. But the one thing about the cart was, that it was rather empty.
The bear-like man already put her aside. So she could see the cart clearly. There was no one in the cart. The only thing she could see was the driver-less cart that seems to be carrying goods. It was a typical merchant carriage. It has a cotton roof that covers that goods inside.
She could smell wine coming from the carriage. The bandits seem to notice and seeing that there was no driver. They pulled the horse inside the camp. The horse was rather poor and seeing blood stains on the seat of the driver. The bandits let their guard down, thinking that the driver must have died.
She found it weird, however. That a horse would pull a carriage filled with wine to this camp. It came from the town, she thought. And seeing them ogle at the carriage. One of the bandits opened the barrels and saw a stack of wheat flour inside a barrel. The barrel was tightly sealed, and before they can even react.
She saw a searing bolt flying to one of the barrels. She saw a flash first, and before long a loud explosion rumbled her eyes. She fell backward and felt her head dizzy. She tried to stand up, and when she did she saw the bandits near the carriage splattered. Some of the wines sprayed on the others, and because of the searing bolt, they were set aflame.
Not only that, she saw the others stab by some sort of metal shards. The shards came from the barrels, which seems to be mixed with the flour. There was also seems to be wax on one of the barrels, and because of this, the other bandits were having their skins melted with wax.
The carriage exploded near the camp. And luckily for her, she was not hit by the metal shards or the wax or was set aflame. The others girls were hurt, but mostly those who were near the carriage got hit. She wondered what just happened. The other bandits seem to have become wary but before they can even act. They heard an agonizing scream. A bandit who tried to scout the area had his decapitated, and seeing the decapitator. Most of the woman and the bandits froze in their tracks.
It was a man wearing a blood tainted mask. It was colored black it had a jester’s smile painted on it. The man wore a black hooded tattered cloak that reaches up to his knee. The man was carrying a blade that resembles a saw. The man was grimy and the blood stains on him made him looked like a devil.
This man stride slowly while carrying his weapon. One of the bandits woke up from his fear and tried to attack the man. The man with the tattered cloak easily parried the man bandits, and with a riposte, the man had his head separated easily. One of the crossbowmen in the distance tried to shot the man in the head. But as it stands, the man pulled a strange crossbow and hit the bandit first. He hung the crossbow back in front of his belt before continuing onward.
She saw the bandits rushed at the man. But the man who wore the eerie cloak simply killed them efficiently. He moved like a panther, and that saw-like sword of his seemed like a part of his arm. He disabled his opponents and with a sawing motion, he would kill them without mercy.
The battle was so quick and shocking. She could not believe how fast they all died. The man in the tattered cloak was the only one standing. The girls who were either hurt or cowering looked at the tattered cloak man. He looked back at them and then hung his odd sword back to his waist.
She could still move so she approached the man carefully. She asked if she could leave. The man looked at her but she didn’t mind his impassive stare and waited for the man to reply.
“Get the horses, get the girls and get out of here.”
He said stolidly. Hearing him, she immediately gathered up the girls. The bandits had their horses so they took them and mounted them. The girls were able to learn or at least try to use the horses. Some who couldn’t ride at all had instead attached the horse to the carts in order carry them back safely.
She was the first to steal some clothing and ready a saddle. She wanted to thank the man but she only saw him standing near the spikes, removing them. She rode near to the man, she expressed her thanks and the man nodded as she was then told.
“Go, I already killed most of the bandits leading up to the tow.n Ride immediately to the town before any of you get in trouble again.”
“Thank you, sir...”
She said that coyly. The man nodded at her. He didn’t look and just continued taking care. She didn’t know why but she felt like staying would bother the man. So she left along with the girls. And as they go further away from the camp, the girls who have been saved sobbed.
She didn’t cry. She merely held the reins of the horse she rides tightly, then looked over her shoulder and saw the camp that she suffered at for God how many days burn. The last thing she saw was the tattered cloak man disappearing within the flames of the burning camp.