Forest Ambush

The insistent rhythm of hooves, accompanied by the rumbling of wagon wheels, echoed through the silent forest.

Noren and Tolke rode side-by-side along the narrow, uneven forest path, where low-growing plantains lined the verges and gnarled tree roots frequently snaked across the track from the dense woods.

She had to remain vigilant, to prevent her horse’s hooves from catching on a root and suffering another painful tumble as she had before.

After an indeterminate stretch of travel, the light began to wane, and the towering trees on either side of the path grew increasingly dense, extending their verdant limbs to obscure the sky above the road.

The sunlight, fractured by the gaps in the leaves, stretched into thin, elongated beams.

An undeniably eerie and ominous atmosphere settled over them.

“Cuckoo, cuckoo…” A bird’s cry abruptly pierced the profound silence of the dense forest, an intermittent call both mournful and melodious.

She tilted her head, gazing upwards towards the sound’s origin, yet no bird was visible; it was likely concealed within the luxuriant foliage.

The sudden bird song shattered the forest’s quietude, allowing the tension that had coiled within Noren since entering the dense woods to subtly unwind.

For reasons unknown to her, ever since they had ventured into this dense forest, she had felt an incessant gaze upon her, emanating from the shadows.

That gaze was filled with a desire devoid of lust, sweeping over her face, her neck, her hands.

It was as if the owner of that gaze regarded her as a fish upon a chopping block, meticulously scaling away her skin, piece by piece.

“Tolke, have you noticed—”

“Caw!”

A raven’s shriek exploded directly behind her head, startling the young woman into silence, and sending a prickle of alarm up the nape of her neck.

Her body instinctively flinched, her head turning slightly, just as a whistling rush of air sliced past her ear.

Before she could discern what it was.

Another ‘thwip’ sound followed swiftly, an arrow finding its mark, and a dark, shapeless mass plummeted from the sky.

Tolke spurred his horse forward, gripping the arrow impaled in the dark creature’s back and lifting it, before returning to Noren’s side.

“Noren, it’s a large raven.” Tolke extracted the arrow, wiped the blood from its tip, and returned it to the quiver on his back.

He then handed her the black bird, its sharp, elongated beak prominent, its body measuring over a foot long.

‘So it was just a raven. Had this bird been watching me the whole time?’ Noren turned the large raven over in her hands, inspecting it thoroughly.

She then scanned her surroundings. ‘No, that gaze is still there!’

She casually plucked some tail and flight feathers from the raven, handing them to Tolke; these could be used for fletching arrows.

Then she tossed the raven’s carcass into the wagon.

“Roasted raven for dinner!” Noren declared loudly, her voice intentionally carrying.

She had no idea what connection this dead bird had to the person lurking in the shadows, but she hoped her words might provoke them.

“Wah-wah-wah…” From within the forest came the sharp, thin wails of a child, but the cries grew steadily fainter, receding into the depths of the woods.

Noren raised an eyebrow. ‘A child?’

As the cries faded away, the oppressive gaze also vanished, and the heavy stone in her heart finally settled.

Tolke looked at her. “This… we…”

“Never mind it,” Noren said. “It’s likely just a child living in these woods. Let’s keep moving!”

The wagon wheels began to turn once more, and the rumbling sound returned to the silent forest.

****

“Noren, stop!” Tolke suddenly called out, halting the caravan.

Ahead, some fifty yards away, several dead trees lay sprawled across the middle of the road.

“What is it?” Noren too noticed the blocked path, but she didn’t consider it significant.

Medieval roads were poorly maintained, and such obstructions were a common occurrence.

“Something’s wrong, very wrong!” Tolke cupped a hand behind his ear.

The breeze, weaving through the trees, carried faint, almost imperceptible sounds of breathing and hushed conversation to his ears.

Without raising his voice unduly, Tolke gestured towards the woods on either side and the roadblock ahead. “Noren, there are bandits!”

“Are you certain?” She furrowed her delicate golden brows, her hand instinctively resting on her sword hilt.

“Yes!” Tolke nodded emphatically.

“Turn back!” Noren pulled on her horse’s reins and shouted to the caravan members.

But the bandits seemed disinclined to let their prey escape.

A burly man in leather armor and an iron helmet leaped from the bushes and bellowed loudly:

“Everyone, charge!!!”

A swarm of brigands and robbers burst forth from the thickets and bushes, charging towards the caravan with weapons raised high.

Most of the bandits were bare-chested, or clad in coarse linen tunics and fur cloaks, with only a few sporting padded or leather armor.

Yet their weaponry was remarkably fine, consisting of straight spears, long-handled flails, studded clubs, axes of varying lengths, and short javelins for throwing.

“Clang!” A glint of cold light flashed.

Noren drew her sword, deflecting an incoming arrow.

The four-sided iron arrowhead struck the blade, sending a shower of sparks flying.

With its remaining momentum, the arrow grazed a stablehand’s ear and ‘thunked’ into the side of a wine barrel inside the wagon.

Its fletching quivered violently.

“Enemy attack!!” Noren roared in fury, snatching the round shield from beside her saddle, and with a powerful thrust of her legs, lunged towards the horde of bandits.

In a blur of motion, swift as a rabbit’s leap and a falcon’s strike, she collided with the two short-axe bandits leading the charge.

Her sword pierced one man’s chest, while her shield bash sent the other sprawling.

Withdrawing her blade from the first, she smoothly drew it across the throat of the fallen man.

She surged forward once more, scattering the spear-wielding bandits who had been attempting to form a cohesive line behind the first wave.

In mere moments, five or six more fell beneath her blade, their mangled bodies and severed limbs strewn across the ground.

Tolke, who had dismounted just as Noren had, was aghast that the enemy had dared to loose a stealth arrow at her.

His face hardened as he swiftly drew three light arrows and, with three rapid half-draws of his bow, dispatched the bandits attempting to flank Noren.

Each of the three bandits was struck squarely in the neck by an arrow, their legs instantly giving way as they collapsed, sliding several feet forward from their momentum.

“What are you staring at? Get in there! Aren’t you knights? Are you afraid to even kill bandits?!” Tolke roared at the stunned Ryan and Igor.

“Hmph—bandits, eh?” Hearing Tolke’s roar and the clangor of steel outside, Hafdan and Wiz, the two brothers, simultaneously yawned.

They donned their iron nasal helmets, leaped from the wagon, raised their round shields, and charged towards the fray with swords drawn.

The brothers’ nonchalance stemmed purely from their extensive experience with ambushed caravans.

Having served as guards for caravans in Hradec in the past, they had often calmly munched on bread and sipped ale even amidst bandit attacks.

They simply didn’t view such minor skirmishes as a serious threat.

Thus, even as Noren had already begun cutting down foes, Hafdan and Wiz remained bleary-eyed, their minds idly pondering what they would eat for dinner.

Aside from the two brothers, everyone else was utterly terrified.

The stablehands fearfully scrambled beneath the wagons to hide, while Ryan and Igor stood bewildered, clutching their kite shields.

Henry, meanwhile, was afflicted by his old ailment.

Witnessing Noren’s ruthless slaughter amidst the bandits, her sword’s tip severing a carotid artery and sending a man-high geyser of blood spurting, a wave of nausea surged into his throat.

“No, I swore to God I would be brave!”

Henry suppressed his urge to vomit and, with a roar like a wild bear, followed Hafdan and Wiz into the fray.

Henry, Hafdan, and Wiz formed a makeshift shield wall, guarding one of Noren’s flanks, while Tolke continuously loosed arrows to protect her other side.

Even as the five fought valiantly, Ryan and Igor remained frozen in indecision.

“These, these, what kind of bandits are these with such fine equipment…” Ryan stammered, chilled to the bone, as he watched forty to fifty robust, high-spirited, bloodthirsty men wielding heavy weapons emerge from the dense forest.

In all the battles Ryan had participated in, he had never witnessed seven individuals fighting against more than forty seasoned ruffians.

If he dared to charge with his cavalry spear, even if he managed to impale one and his warhorse trampled two, he would surely die; he would!

Although their side was currently displaying extraordinary bravery, swords would dull and men would tire.

Even if Noren had already slain over ten people, once all the bandits surrounded them, there would be no escape!

Thoughts of retreat began to stir in Ryan’s mind.

“Igor, let’s run!” Ryan whispered to his brother. “Now’s our chance, while they’re fighting, they won’t notice us!”

Igor clutched the pouch at his waist, biting his lower lip in fear.

He knew these bandits were very likely after the treasure their father had given them.

Should he flee? Or should he join the fight? He couldn’t make up his mind at once.

“Let’s go! If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late!” Ryan urged anxiously.

Seeing his brother hesitate, he gritted his teeth, hardened his resolve, and declared, “Then you stay here and die!”

He fiercely yanked the reins, squeezed his legs against the horse’s flanks, and spurred his steed towards the left slope.

His intention was to bypass the congested caravan from the slope and then make his escape.

The chestnut warhorse leaped onto the incline, its four hooves churning a few times before it circumvented the caravan and landed back on the hard-packed road.

‘I got away!’ Ryan, having successfully bypassed the caravan, felt a wave of relief and the sensation of having narrowly escaped death.

Just as his taut nerves began to relax, he suddenly heard his brother Igor’s scream.

“Watch out!!!”

Watch out for what?

Ryan turned his head, catching only a glimpse of metallic white light before a searing pain shot through his armpit, causing his grip on the reins to loosen.

The green canopy of trees rushed into his vision, followed by a violent impact against his back, a gasp for air, and then his consciousness plunged into darkness.