Chapter 23

Captain Simon and Rolof set off at dawn. They left with 100 men and 400 horses. As they made their way towards the coast they found the countryside depleted of people. Farms had been abandoned and the people had fled. They spread out into five columns, each covering a good distance, but reporting back and meeting up each night. They all reported the same story: a desolate land stripped of its people and livestock. The only people they found were corpses, most of which were now just bones.

"Poor buggers," said Rolof as he surveyed yet another scene of devastation. It was a farmstead that had been burned to the ground. Within were the remains of those who died there. Who were these people, and what were their lives like before disaster overtook them? Were they just eking out an existence? Or were they a happy, well-fed contented family, with good neighbours and friends to rely on? Were the children loved and well cared for, who would cry excitedly "Daddy!" when their father came home? Or were they frightened of a drunken brute that would beat them for no reason? No one now would ever know, for their lives had ended in a moment of wanton violence. In today's politically correct reporting, they would be called euphemistically 'collateral damage': lives snuffed out simply because of the machinations of a power-hungry few.

They had a quick look around but could see the place had been stripped bare.

"Come on. There's nothing here, let's move on," Rolof told his men. It was with a heavy heart that they mounted their horses and left.

Not every village had been destroyed. Some had managed to survive, somehow escaping the devastation of the war. The people were frightened when they saw them and they ran and hid in the woods.

It took them four days to reach Polliton. When they arrived they saw a town in chaos. It was a small port in a natural harbour. There was a wooden jetty built on the back of a stone sea defence. There were two ships tied up against this jetty, with three smaller vessels pulled up on the beach. On the outskirts of the town they could see a camp with 70 to 100 people imprisoned. The people looked despondent and defeated. The few guards that were present were nervous and anxious, shouting and bullying the unfortunate folk inside.

Rolof and Simon looked at the scene with horror and indignation. They could see that the ships were there to transport the slaves to the mainland. They witnessed several men being forced to load provisions onto the ships. One man slipped and fell to the ground, staggering under the heavy load. One of the slavers turned on him with a vicious-looking whip, the man's screams ringing out across the bay.

"We need to help these folk," Captain Simon said to Rolof.

"I know. We cannot allow these ships to sail and take those poor unfortunates to whatever fate awaits them"

"Very well. What are we to do?"

"We were told not to get into a major battle but just to scout out and report," Rolof mused. "If we do that, then all we will be able to report is that we sat and watched as these poor unfortunates were shipped off to slavery and the remnants of the army slipped away. I, for one, am not prepared to make that kind of report. We need intelligence: how many men and where they are."

He looked out over the town, taking in all that he saw. "I will send some of my men into the town tonight and find out what is happening; then we can plan how to free the prisoners and capture those ships. I would imagine that the supplies on board would feed the prisoners for quite a while."

"That sounds like a plan. It'll be dark soon so we can set up camp and find out what we're up against."

Rolof and Captain Simon returned to their men and explained what they intended to do. As soon as it was dark several men slipped out of camp and made their way into town. Around midnight they returned.

They had discovered that there were around 150 men here, and they intended to load the prisoners on to the ships the next day. They had stripped every last bit of food that they could from the surrounding countryside and loaded it on the ships. They were going to sail on the next high tide.

"We need to move fast," said Simon

"Yes, Rolof agreed, "we need to take out the prisoners, as well as take the ships. Actually, the ships are our first priority, for without them they are going nowhere. I reckon I can take my men and we can slip down and take out the guards. The more of them we can take out, the fewer we have to fight. If we can get down and take out the ships, which I'm sure we can do, we can hold them on the jetty. You can then release the prisoners and take them from the rear."

"But that will split our forces," Simon objected. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"How else are we going to do it? We need both the prisoners and the food. If we just save the prisoners then they will sail away with all the food and then what will the people eat? You've been out there: there's just no food left. We have enough for ourselves, but we haven't enough for all these folk. In fact, I don't know if they will have enough in Dampford. If they are going to survive, then we need the supplies on those ships."

"Yes, you're right. We must get those ships. Very well, take out the crews on those ships, and my men will free the prisoners."

"Better still, I'll give you half of my men so you have the archers, and I'll take half of yours to give me the shield men."

"That makes more sense. Okay. Let's sort out who going with whom and tell them the plan."

They told the men the plan and told them to get what rest they could.

It was just before dawn when they crept down towards their targets. Rolof headed down towards the docks. They took out the guards silently and made it to the jetty. They boarded the first ship and took out the sentries. They then barred the hatchways trapping the crews below. It was at the second ship that their luck ran out. One of the sentries was a little more awake then his colleagues had been and he managed to cry out an alarm before being silenced. This roused the rest of the crew, but even so, there was only a skeleton crew on board, the rest were at the taverns having one last night ashore before sailing. The men streamed out from below decks and a short fight commenced. Their cries woke those guards in the town and they started to make their way to the jetty.

Rolof lined up his shield men at the head of the jetty.

"Hold them, men! we'll hold them here until Captain Simon catches them from behind."

There was only room for four men to stand abreast on the jetty. They stood four abreast, four deep with their shields locked, their spears ready.

Rolof turned to the rest of his men. "Into the ships' rigging with you; this will give us high ground and we can shoot down into their ranks."

This they did, and very soon they were in position.

The slavers halted when they saw how quickly Rolof's men had prepared their defensive position. Their leader, a tall, powerfully built man, stepped forward.

"Who the fuck are you? Now get away from my ships or I'll clap the lot of you in irons and sell you in the slave markets of Califiel. You'll make me a pretty penny there."

"I am Sir Rolof. We are here at the behest of King Tom, king of this island. We are here to drive you off our island and back to where you have come from. Surrender now and you'll be given five years servitude, after which you will be set free and, if you wish, given some land and be allowed to settle. Resist and it will increase to ten. It's your choice. I'll give you some time to think about it."

"You cheeky little bastard! All right lads, kill them all! Go on! Charge!"

The braver ones charged forward. Rolof's men stood firm. The archers loosed arrows into the massed ranks. Screams rang out as men fell. The sound of swords and axes hitting shields could be heard, as well as the screams of those who had fallen.

The first rush crashed against the shield wall, and many of the slavers actually fell into the sea. Due to the weight of their weapons and armour they went straight to the bottom. Very soon the slavers fell back, shocked by the fact that they had been stopped. Rolof and his men peppered the survivors with arrows. The jetty was littered with the dead and dying.

Captain Simon and his men advanced towards the prisoner compound. His scouts quickly silenced the guards and very soon they were in amongst the prisoners. Just as they had taken out the last of the guards they heard the commotion from the docks. They watched as the rest of the slavers rushed down towards the sound of fighting. They opened the gates and saw the state of these poor unfortunates. Some were sitting there with blank expressions on their faces. These were the broken ones. Others started moving towards them.

"Who are you? What do you want?" asked a middle aged woman, clutching two small children to her.

"I am Captain Simon, the leader of these men here. We have been tasked by King Tom to free all those taken by the slavers and to free this land from their evil influence. You are now free."

Several of the women started crying and some of the men began to move towards Captain Simon and his men.

"How many of you men know how to fight?" Simon called out. "How many of you have had weapons training?"

One of the men stepped forward. "I haven't been trained, but I know how to fight

!"

"Good, now collect up the weapons of the guards we killed and use them to defend this compound. If any of the slavers come back and try to take any of you, kill them. We have to go and take care of these bastards. We are going to show them that they cannot take our people and our land from us. They will rue the day they ever set foot on our island!"

They set off towards the docks. They could hear the screams of the men as they fought and died.

"Quickly, men! It sounds like we're needed." Simon ordered.

They formed up in between two buildings at the entrance to the docks, ensuring that they could not be outflanked. They watched as the slavers charged towards the docks, their officers encouraging and cajoling in equal measure. They waited until most of them were on or near the jetty then they drew their bows and caught them in a perfect ambush. They took out the officers first, then firing into the rear ranks they decimated the slavers. They were so tightly packed that they simply could not miss. Arrow after arrow slammed into the unprotected backs of the slavers. They turned to face their new attackers and surged towards them.

Captain Simon called to his men "Stand firm lads! Here they come."

The archers retreated behind the shield men as the surviving slavers charged at them, desperate to find a way from the docks. The slavers crashed into them, screaming and cursing as they tried to escape. Captain Simon and his men stood firm.

Rolof and his men cheered when they saw their comrades appear at the entrance to the docks and fire into their opponents' backs. They fired more arrows into the men trapped between them.

"Surrender now and live. You have lost!" called Rolof.

The surviving slavers, deprived now of their officers, stopped fighting and looked around. First one, then another, and finally all of them dropped their weapons and surrendered.

Rolof looked at his men. "Okay, let the sailors out now!"

The sailors were released, they came out quietly when they saw Rolof's men standing there pointing their bows at them. With the docks secured they went about securing the rest of the town. They went from house to house, ensuring that no slavers were hiding and reassuring the inhabitants that they were indeed free. As they were searching they came to a large walled house on the edge of town. As they approached, several mounted men charged out and tried to escape. One was a particularly large man dressed in leather and another was a woman with her hands tied to her horse's saddle. They charged straight at Rolof and his men.

They quickly drew their bows and fired at these men. Four fell immediately, shortly followed by three more. By now they were right on top of them. Rolof drew his sword and waited. Although his skill was with his bow, he had been practising with his sword every day and had become quite proficient.

The large leather-clad man charged towards them and slashed down at Rolof. He parried his blow and one of his men, standing on the other side of the horse, thrust his spear into the man's side. The man screamed and fell from his horse. He landed heavily with his head at a funny angle. He had broken his neck. Rolof and his men stood in front of the woman's horse waving their arms. The horse slowed, and he grabbed her reins. The two surviving slavers rode off towards the hills.

"Let them go," Rolof called as his men attempted a pursuit. "They won't get far. They have nothing to eat and nowhere to go. I'm sure the locals will take care of them."

His men smiled and nodded in agreement.

He turned to the woman on the horse. "Now then, who have we here, and why are you tied to this horse?"

"My name is Gwyn. I was captured by that bastard and he was taking me to a man called Vladik. His name is — was — Fedor. He was the man in charge of these animals. He was the biggest animal of them all."

"Are there any more left in that place?"

"None that are alive, I fear. He ordered them killed when we left. Whether they were killed or just left in the basement, I don't know."

"We'd better take a look, then, hadn't we?"

It was a scene of abject horror that greeted them as they entered the house. Several people had been killed in the main room. They had all had their throats cut. They searched the rest of the house; there were several horrific scenes in some of the rooms but the worst was in the basement. Several women and children had been horribly mutilated.

It was a subdued and sickened group that made their way back towards the docks. They rounded up a group of prisoners and made them return to the house and bury the victims of this atrocity.

Captain Simon and Sir Rolof, accompanied by Gwyn, returned to where they had placed the wounded. They sat Gwen in a chair; she thanked them, then just seemed to go off into a trance.

"It's a shame we didn't think to include an Angel or two in our company," Simon said. "Some of these people are really suffering and we have no idea what to do."

"I know, but then our mission was just to scout and report. If I remember correctly we were to avoid any pitched battles and come back in one piece."

"Ah, yes, well, we couldn't let these people get away, now could we?"

Simon turned to one of his men. "Remember to wash his wounds well, use clean bandages. Remember what Lord Paul has told us! Keep everything as clean as possible."

"Yes, sir," the man replied as he tended his wounded comrade.

"How many did we lose this time?" Rolof inquired.

"I lost six: two killed, four wounded. How about you?"

"I lost four: three killed and one wounded. One of them was young Zicile, only seventeen. He was an only son. He fell from the rigging during the battle. God, how am I going to tell his mother?"

"I know. I knew all my men as well. I'll have to face them when we get back. One of mine was Saul. His wife gave birth to their second child just before we left. He was so happy to be a dad. It was all he ever wanted. At least he died knowing that they will be safe from these bastards." He looked over towards Gwyn. "Do you think she'll be okay?"

"I don't know. It looks like what happened to the King after that man attacked him. Shock, I think they called it. Anyway, let's get over to the prison camp and see what joys await us there."