MERCS

  Twerk | The Bowman | Greenblade | Usa | Izil | Auntie | Mila | The Explorer

  Character sheets:

  Race/Nationality

  Gnome

  Age

  50

  Daily Wage

  7 pence

  Action Stats

  EXP Level

  3

  Action Points

  5

  Hit Points

  22

  Core Stats

  Might

  14

  Agility

  7

  Grit

  5

  Intellect

  10

  Skills

  Ambidextrous, axes (expert)

  Equipment

  Weapons

  Hand axe (damage 4-24), Hand axe (damage 4-24)

  Armour

  Breastplate, helmet

  Other

  The Explorer’s arrival in the squad provided some much needed direction. He was the only one who had travelled in The Swamp before. To Mila’s eyes, it was a monochrome landscape of unpleasant smells and bogginess. If she were an outlaw, she would sooner hand herself in and face the consequences than spend her days in this quagmire.

  It became apparent that Jaelin did not see it like that at all. He seemed to understand how the land worked, taking them from one dry plot to the next, examining the locations their quarry might have passed through, or stopped to rest. These little islands amongst the marsh were a respite from the mud and brackish water that sapped at their energy.

  It was getting dark—too dark to see—but he kept them moving. There were grumbles of complaint now. Twerk was the loudest, though Mila sympathised. While her legs were mud-splattered, the muck reached his chest in places. He was proud, and stubborn, and she could see the shame on his face when one of the Alinko brothers offered him the butt of their spears, which they used to pull him free whenever he got stuck.

  The Bowman whispered to Greenblade, and she cleared her throat. ‘Might this not be a good place to camp for the night?’ Ashlyn asked Jaelin.

  He turned to look at her with a blank expression, as if he had forgotten he had company. ‘Yes. Of course. Please make a start. I’m nearly done.’

  The others dropped their packs to the ground with relieved groans, rubbing at shoulders and stretching backs. But Mila was intrigued by her countryman, and accompanied him farther.

  He took his rod in hand and shone the light ahead. With a gasp of pleasure, he picked out the remains of a campfire. He studied the blackened remains, then circled around it.

  ‘You can tell how many people sat by the fire,’ Mila realised.

  He looked at her with his green eyes. Again, it was as if he was surprised to find her there. She liked his eyes. They looked at her just the same as they looked at everyone else. Without lust, or judgement. ‘About ten.’

  ‘They’re the outlaws we’re after?’

  ‘Yes. There’s no one else out here.’

  How did he know that? ‘What else can you tell from looking at their camp?’

  ‘They were here last night. We’ll catch up with them tomorrow.’

  ‘How is it you can tell all that? It’s like magic.’

  He gave her a quizzical look. ‘How is it you have the skills of both a thief and a medic? You are far more impressive than I.’

  Mila was taken aback. It was nonsense, of course. Ordinarily, she would have assumed he was offering false praise to charm her into bed. But she knew well enough when a man was interested in her. And he wasn’t.

  They returned to the squad, and everyone readied themselves for a night in the open. Femke, Ashlyn, and Mila claimed a patch of grass that was for women only, where they might do their business. But it was an artificial exercise, since there was nowhere private in the flat landscape.

  The Explorer shared his discovery with the rest of the group as they settled down for a sleep out in the open. The prospect of a battle tomorrow created a sombre atmosphere.

  ‘Why do men become outlaws?’ Christoph asked, as if blaming their quarry for the fact that they were hunting them down.

  ‘People come to Gal’azu with not much more than a handful of hopes and dreams,’ Wilson said. ‘Then their farm or business fails. Or they get screwed over by someone they trusted. They fall ill, or fall back on their old bad habits. And suddenly they’re in a harsh land with no means of escape. They’re hungry, so they steal. They’re angry, and powerless, so they hurt others. They get sick in the head, and lose their sense of right and wrong. When that happens, it’s too late to help them. They need to be put down.’

  No one said much after that.

  Tired, Mila lay down and rested her head on her pack. She looked across at the shadowy form of The Explorer. He was sitting on the ground, still as a statue. She derived some comfort from his presence. She wondered when he would lie down and get some rest, but she fell asleep before he moved.

  They had to travel with care the next morning. It wouldn’t be easy to come upon the outlaws unawares in this landscape.

  As it happened, the terrain the outlaws had retreated into was higher and drier than elsewhere. It seemed likely this was where they had their hideout.

  They began to come across mallorn trees. Mila had never heard of them before. They stood alone, apart from their fellows, as if there were only enough nutrients in the soil to feed one of them. But they rose over thirty feet tall, and were wider than any tree she had come across before. They looked like they had stood here across the ages, silently observing the passing of time. Humans, in all their self important haste, must seem nothing more than a temporary, irritating interruption to their vigil.

  It was one of these trees that caught The Explorer’s attention as he called a halt.

  ‘It looks like they have carved out a shelter at the base of that mallorn,’ he said quietly, pointing.

  Like everyone else, Mila peered over. She couldn’t see what he was getting at, but by this point she trusted him implicitly.

  ‘The plan?’ Ashlyn said. ‘If we go charging over, they’ll almost certainly see us coming, and probably scatter. We get paid per head, in case anyone needs reminding.’

  Jaelin had a look of distaste on his face. ‘Agreed. The archers should circle around and cut off any retreat. I suggest Auntie and The Bowman to the right, and I’ll go to the left.’ He held out both hands to indicate where they might go. ‘Three different points should be enough to cover any attempt at retreat.’

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ Mila told him. She indicated the two brothers and Ashlyn. ‘I’m no use in a shieldwall.’

  ‘Very well. When I am in place, I will give a signal with the rod.’

  She followed the scout, treading only where he trod. Even so, she made far more noise than he did—he seemed to glide across the ground, barely touching it. He led them far away from their quarry, so that Mila nearly asked him whether he had changed his mind and decided to leave. Only when the others were long out of sight did he turn around and return towards the mallorn tree from a new direction. Mila did her best to crouch walk behind him. He stopped behind a brittle, dead looking bush, without a single leaf on it. But there was no better cover around.

  He used the Rod of Light to signal his position, first to Ashlyn and the others who had waited in position, then across to where he expected Auntie and her nephew to be positioned.

  It wasn’t long before she saw figures approaching the outlaws’ hideout. Ashlyn walked between Usa and Izil, all three holding spear and shield. Behind them was Twerk. He didn’t have the height to stand in a shieldwall with them, and carried his trusty axes instead.

  There was a warning shout from the mallorn. Soon, outlaws were pouring from their den.

  Squad Games. Follow, favourite, or review, to support the story.

  Patreon.

  Partisans read 8 chapters ahead.

  Companions read 30 chapters ahead.