The Attack.

If an angel from the loftiest heights had been presented to him, Bjorn could hardly have been more awed. She was lovelier than he had remembered, dressed in the gowns of the Emperor’s finest family, the Nartac clan. The violet and crimson set off her features in a way that had all the men were fawning at her very sight. Those long burgundy locks fell like a claret water fall, spilling across her fair shoulders, setting off the porcelain creamy color of her skin. Her emerald eyes sparkled and her feet seemed not to even touch the ground as she slipped down from the regal carriage that she had arrived in. She cast a glance about her and discreetly moved to the side of the captain of her guard. Commander Maltac was in conversation with the captain, who pointed and gestured to Lashir and waved a hand in the direction of the men. The commander nodded and turned directly to Bjorn.1

“Bjorn, my good man, come.” Bjorn found his feet, awkwardly, and started that direction. At his name being mentioned Lashir’s eyes opened wide and she turned, staring at him, the obvious surprise showing. Her smile burst forth, but before anyone but Bjorn had noticed, she regained her composure and dimpled demurely.
When he reached the commander and the captain of Lashir’s guard he had brought himself under control and managed a bow to Lashir. “Sir”, began commander Maltac, slapping Bjorn on the back, “may I present, Bjorn, my second. Bjorn is my best man and he will see to the safety of the lady on her journey, until she has safely reached her destination.” The captain of the guard, raised his fist and slugged his left chest, as the custom of the northern knights and Bjorn did likewise. 2

“And, may I present the Lady Lashir of the house of Nartac. She travels to the north. She will be wedding soon to a fine young swain. The marriage will unify the richest house of the Northern Province with Nartac clan and the strength of our kingdom will be most secure we are sure.” The captain bowed to Lashir as did Bjorn. The news that she would be wedding someone in the Northern Province gave him to wonder. Which family was she to wed into? He could not imagine. But, before he could think of another thing to say, the captain of the guard and commander Maltac had moved off, chatting, laughing and generally getting along as if they were old friends towards dinner, leaving Bjorn alone standing before the woman he had loved so much and knew he could never have.3

“Bjorn,she whispered. I have missed you so much. I see you have become a mighty warrior, just look at you.” She laid a hand on his arm. The obvious desire in her eyes was unmistakable. “I had no idea we would meet under these circumstances. The commander simply said he would provide a personal guard to those my uncle had sent along. Then, he said your name and I was nearly shocked out of my wits.” She smiled radiantly at him. Coquettishly she beamed and blushing slightly, she whispered. “I’m not married yet Bjorn, why don’t you come into my chamber coach. We can pass the time and no one will doubt that you are watching over me.” 4

For a brief second Bjorn nearly agreed. Then, his duty overcame his wanting and he shook his head. “No, m’lady, I cannot.” She looked at him shocked, shrugging her shoulders, as if to ask why. “I must guard from the perimeter, as is the manner.” He stepped back. “But, if you have any needs, or are ever in danger, I will be there immediately.” And he began back to the edge of her encampment. 5

“Bjorn”, he heard her call out to him. But, when he turned and saw the painful look in her eyes, he knew she too had come to her senses. “I am glad to see you are well, Bjorn. I hope we can be friends when all this is done.” A single tear escaped her eye, slipping down her beautiful cheek. And, Bjorn nodded.6

“I too hope we can always be friends, m’lady” and he turned and moved on so that she could not see the anguish in his eyes.7

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All that week Bjorn stayed at a distance, the longing in him growing until it was a searing pain in his vitals. He did his duty, riding nearby and staying on the ready. The commander had given Bjorn, on the occasion of his promotion to personal guard of the Lady Lashir, one of his two prized horses. The commander had offered him the coal black stallion but Bjorn knew it was the commander’s favorite and he opted, instead, for a beautiful tall mare, dapple gray with a white mane and tail. She had long been his favorite anyway, and had attached himself to Bjorn from the first days he and the commander had ridden together. To have her given to him was almost enough to make him forget his pain at watching the women has adored going off to wed another. He carried on as best he could and thought only of duty.10

The days passing allowed Bjorn to think of his future, at least, and he dreamed of the day he would return to the master’s estate and, hopefully, take over as his chief trader. As the caravan progressed up the mountains, he began to think of how he would meet another, marry, raise a family and buy land of his own one day. It eased the pain somewhat, knowing he had a place to return to. His emotions began to rise and he rode in silence, always keeping an eye out for any danger. None seemed to come his way and the last day of the trip proceeded, as had the rest, uneventfully. 11

By midday of the seventh day, the caravan pulled over a long ridge and was settling into a rugged north road, cautiously moving along, as the road here was a bit torn from the winter season. The horses and riders and the carriages picked their way slowly along, careful to keep to the center of the road, where the passage was easiest. They were in generally good spirits, all, with the guards ahead, the main carriage following, and the main trader party with all the goods it carried bringing up the rear, the rangers running along side, always watching. Bjorn was bored. Soon he hoped they’d stop and the journey would be over. It had to be soon, as the North Country had only a few major plantations, his masters, the plantation of the family Rugis and a few minor plantations owned by former slaves who’d bought their freedom. He knew the Lady Lashir would not be going to one of those and supposed it would be the Rugis clan. At least he was near home and, when the job was done, he would seek his departure from the ranks and stay on at the master’s estate, and work the plantation once more. He smiled at the thought. Lost in his day dreaming he was totally unprepared when all hell suddenly broke loose around him.12

The narrow passage here between two towering cliff walls, before the caravan could reach the broad steps, was imposing and the party was squeezed into almost a single file. Suddenly, the very cliffs seemed to fall in on the party. Boulders rained down on the men in the chasm and they frantically tried to rush out of the way of it. But, the trailing rangers were crushed under what appeared to be a landslide. More rocks rolled down from the cliffs and the carriage and wagon masters whipped their teams into a rush trying to get out of the narrows as fast as they could. The main carriage of the Lady Lashir made it into the clear, but the rough road caused the carriage to bounce about like a cockle shell, towed by the frightened horses. Before Bjorn could do anything to help the driver though, hundreds of men seemed to come from no where, screaming and waving weapons, rushing into the convoy. It was the largest raiding party Bjorn had ever seen. Far larger than the one which had attacked when he was going down to Quanx as a young man and these were well armed, obviously seasoned fighters, striking at the rangers and letting the guards go. Bjorn pushed his buckler high on his arm and pulled his war axe. Yanking out a long dirk to guard his left side, he rushed to aid the commander who was already engaged. He leaped off his horse and ran to the commander’s side. Ripping through the men before him, stabbing out with the dirk and crashing ahead with his right shoulder, behind the buckler on his upper arm, he smashed back the attackers. The commander pounded down one man after another, with Bjorn slowing them, stabbing those who came in and swinging his axe in crescent circles, lopping off arms, slicing through leather armour with abandon, hacking down men, taking their heads easily in the confined space. The other rangers were doing well too. The confine space was much like fighting on a ship and the attackers were unprepared for the fact that the rangers had fought in close quarters many times. Soon there were dead men laying everywhere and the rangers were slashing with swords, opening up space for the archers to take aim on the on rushing bandits. 13

“Bjorn,” commander Maltac shouted, “We can handle this now, you must retrieve the lady Nartac before the carriage is taken by thieves.” He waved Bjorn away, “go after that carriage.” Bjorn nodded and leaped to his mount, giving the mare’s reign a toss and turning her easily. The great gray shot off , hurling herself towards the carriage off in the distance, now out of control, shooting along the rutted road, threatening to turn over any second. 14

Bjorn raced around the bend and drew up towards the carriage, the mare charging across the broken ground with apparently no thought of the danger to herself. She was a well trained war horse and did as her master bid her. He stood on his stirrups and reached for the harness of the left lead horse. Pulling back fiercely he fought to stop the team. For a moment he was strained till he thought his grip would break or the determined horses would simply pull his arm from the socket, but he finally brought the team under control, the carriage rattling to a halt. Bjorn leaped from the saddle and ran to the carriage. In a second the door burst open, Lashir nearly falling out into his arms. She grabbed him about the neck and held on, shaking with terror. “Oh, Bjorn, I thought I was going to die.” She suddenly pulled him to her and crushed her lips against his. For a moment he kissed her passionately, then pressed her away. “15

“Please, m’lady”, he panted, laughing. “We must remain proper.” He smiled at her and she beamed back. “I am glad you are safe, Lashir.” And, he glanced about, wondering if there had been any witnesses to that amorous scene. But, the driver was caught up in his reigns and cursing a blue streak, paying no attention to the two of them. The guard suddenly came running up, standing at the perimeter and taking position, arms at the ready. Bjorn, seeing they were there and quite capable of defending their charge set Lashir down and headed back to his horse. “I must return to the others,” he said, climbing up. “I am sure these men will see that you are protected.” He saluted, giving her one last broad smile before tearing off up the road. 16

Lashir stood and watched Bjorn. In her heart, she knew he would always be the only one she could love as she did. But, her duty was clear and this attack made it more obvious than ever that she would have to carry out the wishes of her uncle if the empire was to be truly unified. She stepped over to the carriage and back inside as the driver coaxed the team back onto the center of the road and pulled up onto the flat of the steppes. 17

Bjorn meanwhile had reached his commanders side once more and the two of them hacked and sliced their way through the mass of now bleeding bandits with abandon. Bjorn let himself slip outside his body and direct his attacks from the lofty view above. The Karuke did indeed come in handy in battle. He crashed his shield into one man after another dispatching one with the axe, the other with the pike end of his dirk, leaving bodies all about him. The commander was doing well calling the men together into a phalanx and they drove the bandit hoard back in a wedge. They had nearly cleared the narrows when explosions began to ring out. Everyone looked about for cannon but there were none. Bjorn, from his out of body position, however, could see what the others could not. There in the road were trip lines. Stretched from the edges, in different lengths allowing some to pass and others to catch the ropes with their feet, never sure which would be the next to fall. These traps had been laid to kill the party, it was obvious, but the plan hadn’t called for the rout of the bandits and many of the trip lines were being set off by them as well, with the same gruesome result. Anyone close by was instantly struck by thousands of bits of jagged iron. He hurried back into his body and shouted for the men to stop but they were mad with expectation of destroying the attackers and went on. Before he could do anything to prevent it, Commander Maltac struck one of the ropes. An enormous explosion resulted and the shards of iron slammed into his chest and legs. He fell as Bjorn hurried to him. Bjorn screamed for a surgeon, but it was to late. He knew the commander could not be helped. 18

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