“A wood shaper of some sort. Many of these look like practice pieces,” a tall man, armored in impressive plate armor, said while rubbing the back of the bear figurine Chess had left in the wagon with his large gauntleted hand.
He studied each of the other experiments that she’d left in a small pile behind the bench, picking up each in turn, before finally returning to the bear.
He was clearly the leader of this small group of disciplined men. Their gear was well kept, as far as Chess could tell. The leather greaves and boots under tight gambesons with steel open face helms all but screamed new. Each man had a long saber strapped to one thigh and a shorter straight blade on the other, with large round shields strung on their backs. They held themselves with the outward calm of men confident in their tasks. Though Chess did note the odd one shift nervously when they studied the surrounding forest.
Totally not the type of people I was expecting to show up, Chess thought.
Their armor looked to have seen recent use with odd splashes of blood drying in patches on it. One of the men had a slightly bloodstained cloth cinched tight about his upper arm.
The seven men had ridden up several hours after Chess and Ashley had hidden and just as the sun started its final descent behind the towering trees.
Two men were now checking over the remaining contents of the wagon while another four had taken up watch positions, one for each of the cardinal directions, with the fifth holding the reins of the horses for the two searchers. All seven men looked human with no evident animal features like Ashley’s, but then their armor and helms could be hiding them.
“Sir?” the second searcher asked looking up. He was a younger man, a boy really, only 13 or 14 and gangly with it and clearly an aide or squire of some sort to the man wearing heavy metal armored. The squire had the least armor of the bunch with only a gambeson and a short blade and dagger sheathed at his side.
“It takes a very fine control ability to pull off details like this. What does that tell us, Serus?” the leader prompted, handing the figurine to the boy.
The boy studied the bear for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he looked back to his superior.
Thank fuck I didn’t get around to weaving a canopy for the wagon, Chess thought. The bit of basket left behind will blend in where it is in the grass.
A loud snap sounded in the brush opposite Chess and Ashley's hiding spot forcing Chess to look over sharply. The pair lay suspended in a covering of brambles with their bramble cloaks tight to camouflage them.
Chess’ chest pounded at the resounding crack and she sucked in a breath. Rufus! She cursed the lumbering animal for the scare.
Beside her, Ashley managed to remain quiet and still.
They hid roughly 15 yards into the brush and suspended a few feet off the ground, laying in hammocks in the dense bramble. The birds chirped overhead unconcerned by the men below. I now know for sure my ears are much better than they were back on earth, Chess thought, listening to the man lecture the boy.
The leader looked up calmly and gave a quick hand gesture to the man facing the sound. The man and one other took off into the brush at a brisk pace, branches, and leaves crunching underfoot while the leader turned back to Serus.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Uh...well that is... sir,” Serus stumbled for words before gaining confidence. “It tells us one of them was a builder or wood artist of some sort, with one of the wood-type Pyths?”
“Anything else?”
“Likely a noncombatant?” Serus asked, shifting from foot to foot.
“Don’t be stupid, boy. Plenty of soldiers have woodworking abilities that they got from an inheritance Pyth. Why do you think the shields of the legion are always in such good repair shortly after a fight?” the man admonished.
Serus hung his shoulders a second before looking up. “It tells us there was likely at least one man with the wagon because women are rarely given construction inheritances?”
“Better. Also, the spot manipulated from the bench is rather tall for a human woman. Don't forget other species are often taller.” The leader nodded. “Now what does the rest of this tell us?” He swept an arm at the wagon.
“It’s strange, sir. If one of them was a wood shaper why wouldn’t they just fix their axle? There are a lot of different size men's clothing and armor bits in the back. With only a couple of items from a woman and a child or halfling. Indicating more people than could ride in this wagon comfortably. With the foodstuffs and farming implements here...” He shrugged at a loss.
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“Is there a conclusion in there, Serus?”
“Sir. Maybe they ran, sir?” Serus said.
“Possible, likely even. Though that doesn’t account for the bloodstain on the bench,” the man added.
“Bloodstain, sir? And why not?” Serus asked.
“On the front bench and just behind in the wagon bed. It's days old and Tracking tells me whoever it belonged to died shortly after taking the wound. If the gear in the back comes from their attackers, it suggests they won despite the casualty. It also tells us they defeated them without shedding blood as most of it's fairly clean and free of recent blood. Anyone who can do that to four or five men is either very resourceful or has a strong ability. Possible military training too, if not plain lucky.”
“Also, the fact they did not fix the axle indicates the wood crafter was likely the one to perish. Which means there are two or possibly three survivors. One woman and likely a child," the big man explained looking around. "Now, tell me how I came to this conclusion.”
Chess felt a small surge of pride at the man's compliment. Shit, did he say tracking? She felt goose-bumps rise on her neck and it was everything for her not to fidget in her hammock.
“You’re assuming it was a small family. Man, woman, and two kids or another adult or a slave? The man was the one that died in the driver's seat—he was the wood crafter. The bandits wanted to take the woman and children for the slavers or...” He gulped. “...rape, but they overcame them somehow?”
“Good," he said with a nod and rested a large gauntleted hand on the boy's shoulder.
At this point, Chess was considering moving from their hiding spot but held off. I wonder if they took any of the bandits alive. Freya but I wish I had some clue about the culture and laws here. Ashley has been so quiet, poor thing, and I don’t want to push her so close to her loss.
Crunching and quiet cursing heralded the men who had left earlier, returning leading Rufus by a length of rope tied around his neck.
“Sir,” one of them said, indicating the Ox.
He nodded. “Hitch it to the wagon. The rest should catch up shortly,” he said before turning to the other returning man. “You have a Sap-Wood Pyth don’t you Garand? Could you fashion something that will work to get this load rolling?”
“Aye, sir,” he said and got down on one knee to study the underside of the wagon.
“So, Serus what’s our next course of action?” the leader asked his protégé.
“Wait for the others, sir?” Serus asked.
“After that Serus,” the man asked exasperated.
“Find the site of the original attack?” the boy tried.
“Nothing so strenuous. That would likely take days if we don’t simply pass it by mistake.”
Serus looked closely at the trees to either side of the road. “Track them, sir?”
The man nodded and clacked his gauntleted hands together. He concentrated for a moment, then Chess felt the hairs on her arms raise, the air in the area faintly thrumming with mana.
The leader studied the ground about the wagon walking in expanding circles before stopping to frown at the bit of vine and bramble she had grown their cloaks from.
He shook his head and moved on continuing his study of the ground, eventually finding the spot where they had left the road and stopping to frown into the brush.
He turned back to his men and helped them with the resetting of the wagon, pulling the wheel off the old axle himself, as the others held the wagon and installed the new one.
Time dragged on and Chess was doing her best to suppress the urge to scratch her leg. Some sort of bug was crawling up her dress giving her the creepy crawlies. This is so unfair, he has an ability that just tells him which way we went. Is there even any point in hiding any longer?
The men continued to work on the wagon until it stood upright and true as the others kept their vigilant watch.
Chess’s belly ached with hunger and she was impatient to be out and away from the bugs. She wanted to see the rest of the men to be sure they were safe to approach.
Ashley's comforting weight beside her helped to steady her frayed nerves.
Darkness was starting to settle when the clump of horse hooves and booted feet finally sounded coming up the road. The sentries had moved out into the forest
A tall man on horseback led the new group and stopped short in front of the leader. He thumped his fist hard against his breast in salute, his eyes intent on the leader of the patrol.
“Sir,” the new man said.
“Report Sergeant.” The leader nodded and returned the salute
“Aye, sir. We found 6 more at their camp. Three fought to the death, three surrendered, sir.”
“Casualties? They have any captives?”
“Two casualties, sir: Moderate wounds, no fatalities, no living captives,” the Sergeant responded proudly.
“Good, that brings us to 7 prisoners then?” The leader asked.
“Well, you see sir, that is, one tried to attack and escape. He knocked Dray upside the head and took the rod but Florence put him down,” he responded, rubbing the back of his helmeted head.
“Well that’s still 6 that will live to see the King's justice,” the leader shrugged. “The numbers are still off. The scouts reported twice what we’ve found so far,” he mused.
“We camping here?” the Sergeant asked.
“Yes, but I want three volunteers to help me search for the owners of this wagon.”
“Sir? Aye, sir, you’ll have them," the Sergeant answered looking into the back of the full wagon. “Lucky bastards, broken axle only a half-mile from that ambush site.”
“Yes, perhaps,” the leader nodded and looked off in the direction Chess and Ashley had left the road.
Luck, right, Chess thought.
The rest of the men had come up even with the wagon. Two soldiers on foot were leading six manacled men with thick bronze collars around their necks.
When the first prisoner came into full view Chess let out a deep slow breath. It was the same man that had passed them on the road earlier.
Ashley turned her head to look at Chess, her bright feline eyes intent, and nodded in a silent agreement.
Taking a deep breath, Chess rolled from her hammock and stood in a graceful motion.
Her cloak still broke her shape in the dusky gloom.
“That will not be necessary, sir,” she said in a clear confident voice her hand tight on her staff. Fuck it. Fake it till you make it.
Every head on the road whipped around at the sound of her voice. The leader was the only one to look directly at her in the darkening shadows.