Faldan waited patiently under the bridge, sitting on the gravel and rock island. He heard them, far off and distant, the stomp of hobnailed boots on dirt. He plucked idly at the string of his spruce bow as the sound of a caravan drew nearer. Finally, after another minute or so, Faldan swung himself up onto the parapet of the stone bridge. A vanguard of foot soldiers, twenty strong, marched ahead of the train of horses and mules. Silidrius tur Tallont, guild-master of Tallont, reclined in his horse-drawn carriage safely in the center of the caravan. Faldan crouched on one of the support posts rising from the bridge parapets, in plain view of the approaching cavalcade. The soldiers stopped, so did the merchants. Faldan nodded at them.
"Good morning, Men of Cinteras, where are you off to on this fine autumn morning?"
Twenty spears were pointed at leather-clad Faldan. He eyed them thoughtfully.
The captain of the escort pushed his way forward, a rich blue tabard strapped to his breastplate and armor-pieces clanking.
"What do you want, woodman?" the question was brisk.
"I simply wanted to tell you good morning, seeing as you are fellow Cinters and this is my patrol region." Faldan looked busisness-like and honest, something he was good at.
"Very well." the captain inclined his head to the Wildwalker, "you may continue on your patrol, soldier." he said as he turned back to the caravan.
"Ah, yes, captain, a great danger lurks on the other side of this bridge, as you know this is the river Swift and that is the Forest of Eagles, a rural and rough place. A band of brigands is currently hiding in there. I was able to slay a few-why, pray are you even taking the guildmaster through here?" Faldan scratched his beard, brow creased as he asked the question.
The captain turned, hand reactively on the formed hilt of his sword.
"The eastern highway from Rianost was blocked off at the Rianost Fords. Apparently the bridge was damaged and under repair."
Faldan knew that ruse would work; the Giant's Helm Mountains often send small floods through the rivers of Cinteras, making their story believable.
"Oh really, and what is your name, Wildwalker?" a voice, drawling and loud, called out from the center of the escort. Faldan cursed silently.
A Fox, easily distinguished by his scarlet cape and ornate rapier swinging at his hip, strode through the guards, who parted for him.
"I asked a question, woodman, what is your name and home town?" the Fox tapped his fingers impatiently on the bell guard of his sword.
"Faldan tur Racen' Peak, sir."
"Ah, I have heard of you then and some of your... exploits." the fingers stopped suddenly in their tapping. "you wouldn't happen to be the same Faldan who raided the caravan of Guildmaster Ruunis tur Rianost, would you?"
Faldan knew the Fox was fully aware who he was.
"I don't know what you mean?" Faldan cocked his head in faked confusion.
"Yes you do, you are responsible for the thievery of one hundred pounds of the Merchants' Guild of Dairn's gold. I think that puts you under arrest." the Fox smiled his hand grasping the smooth black leather of his sword.
"And you are held responsible for the deaths of ten innocent Dairni men, the ruin of the village of Thernsford and looting of six tons of silver from the people of Dairn," Faldan called out to the woods across the river, a line of green-clad archers, fellow Wildwalkers, appeared; arrows nocked. They rushed across the bridge, to stand in the middle away from the escort's pikes. The Fox glared at Faldan, whipping out his rapier. An arrow through his eye dissuaded him from further action. Sytheal tur Rianost poked his round head out of the carriage window.
"Captain! Captain! Why have we stopped so long, captain!" he yowled to the escort captain.
"Sytheal tur Rianost, guildmaster of all of Rianost, you are hailed to stop by the men of the king of Dairn. Order your men to stand down so we may take you to our king." Faldan called out to the guildmaster.
Sytheal jumped in his carriage, and started balling to his captain,
"Captain! Captain! Stop him! Form rank, do something!" the shinning, ample head disappeared into the safety of his coach. The captain, sword in hand, ordered his men to line up in front of the carriage, pikes out. Faldan leapt from the parapet, joining his men as they stood some yards from the caravan, and signaled his men.
"Sytheal tur Rianost, you have now resisted judgement for your crimes!" he bellowed over the ensuing cries of soldiers as they were felled by arrows, "you shall now be taken captive by the Wildwalkers of Dairn and your possessions taken," the remaining pikemen charged towards the archers, who switched bows for swords, "Sytheal, for your crimes of unjust taxation, looting of royal property, and treachery to the crown, you are under arrest!" the Wildwalkers, having slain the last of the escort, surrounded the carriage. Berden yanked the door open and pulled out the whimpering merchant-lord.
"Long live the King of Dairn!" Faldan bellowed.
The captain of the escort pushed his way forward, a rich blue tabard strapped to his breastplate and armor-pieces clanking.
"What do you want, woodman?" the question was brisk.
"I simply wanted to tell you good morning, seeing as you are fellow Cinters and this is my patrol region." Faldan looked busisness-like and honest, something he was good at.
"Very well." the captain inclined his head to the Wildwalker, "you may continue on your patrol, soldier." he said as he turned back to the caravan.
"Ah, yes, captain, a great danger lurks on the other side of this bridge, as you know this is the river Swift and that is the Forest of Eagles, a rural and rough place. A band of brigands is currently hiding in there. I was able to slay a few-why, pray are you even taking the guildmaster through here?" Faldan scratched his beard, brow creased as he asked the question.
The captain turned, hand reactively on the formed hilt of his sword.
"The eastern highway from Rianost was blocked off at the Rianost Fords. Apparently the bridge was damaged and under repair."
Faldan knew that ruse would work; the Giant's Helm Mountains often send small floods through the rivers of Cinteras, making their story believable.
"Oh really, and what is your name, Wildwalker?" a voice, drawling and loud, called out from the center of the escort. Faldan cursed silently.
A Fox, easily distinguished by his scarlet cape and ornate rapier swinging at his hip, strode through the guards, who parted for him.
"I asked a question, woodman, what is your name and home town?" the Fox tapped his fingers impatiently on the bell guard of his sword.
"Faldan tur Racen' Peak, sir."
"Ah, I have heard of you then and some of your... exploits." the fingers stopped suddenly in their tapping. "you wouldn't happen to be the same Faldan who raided the caravan of Guildmaster Ruunis tur Rianost, would you?"
Faldan knew the Fox was fully aware who he was.
"I don't know what you mean?" Faldan cocked his head in faked confusion.
"Yes you do, you are responsible for the thievery of one hundred pounds of the Merchants' Guild of Dairn's gold. I think that puts you under arrest." the Fox smiled his hand grasping the smooth black leather of his sword.
"And you are held responsible for the deaths of ten innocent Dairni men, the ruin of the village of Thernsford and looting of six tons of silver from the people of Dairn," Faldan called out to the woods across the river, a line of green-clad archers, fellow Wildwalkers, appeared; arrows nocked. They rushed across the bridge, to stand in the middle away from the escort's pikes. The Fox glared at Faldan, whipping out his rapier. An arrow through his eye dissuaded him from further action. Sytheal tur Rianost poked his round head out of the carriage window.
"Captain! Captain! Why have we stopped so long, captain!" he yowled to the escort captain.
"Sytheal tur Rianost, guildmaster of all of Rianost, you are hailed to stop by the men of the king of Dairn. Order your men to stand down so we may take you to our king." Faldan called out to the guildmaster.
Sytheal jumped in his carriage, and started balling to his captain,
"Captain! Captain! Stop him! Form rank, do something!" the shinning, ample head disappeared into the safety of his coach. The captain, sword in hand, ordered his men to line up in front of the carriage, pikes out. Faldan leapt from the parapet, joining his men as they stood some yards from the caravan, and signaled his men.
"Sytheal tur Rianost, you have now resisted judgement for your crimes!" he bellowed over the ensuing cries of soldiers as they were felled by arrows, "you shall now be taken captive by the Wildwalkers of Dairn and your possessions taken," the remaining pikemen charged towards the archers, who switched bows for swords, "Sytheal, for your crimes of unjust taxation, looting of royal property, and treachery to the crown, you are under arrest!" the Wildwalkers, having slain the last of the escort, surrounded the carriage. Berden yanked the door open and pulled out the whimpering merchant-lord.
"Long live the King of Dairn!" Faldan bellowed.
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