They’re almost upon us.
“Show yourselves!” a voice booms, they’ve stopped perhaps ten meters from where we hide, and they’re facing us directly. Guy looks over and nods, pure steely resolve faces me.
He nimbly leaps over the top of the boulder and charges spear in hand. Our battle cries join in unison, and we charge together.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The fight, if it could still be called a fight, lasts mere seconds. I thrust towards the first of them, only to be casually parried aside into the dirt, next to me Guy leaps into the air bringing the spearhead down on the head of its first victim, who swiftly ducks.
No. He bows.
The man was not dodging the blade, or at least if he was, he now has a new objective. He’s on one knee, all of them are I notice. Head bowed before Guy. I warily rise to join his side.
“My King?” The front man whispers in awe, his face gently illuminated by the flickering torchlight.
The survivors. We’ve found them. Despite not knowing these people, relief floods through me. I would rather take my chances with the community under Guy’s rule than wander lost in the valley dragging a dying man. I also notice the reverence in their eyes. Clearly Edwyn is an exception and that a more respectful treatment of the royal is normally given.
I survey the group. Six of them kneel before us, two women and four men, either topless or in some light leather armour, equipped with a collection of spears, bows, and knives. Some of them, I note, have similar swirling green tattoos to Edwyn. All, like Guy, are barefoot.
“Jaq?” Guy addresses the man at his feet. Together the six rise. Instantly a couple of them head towards the fallen colony men and begin collecting their weapons.
“We thought you were dead, or worse, that they had you. If we had known-” Jaq starts apologetically.
“There’s no need, you saved the ones you could. How many of you are there?” Guy asks.
“Around two hundred, we...we lost everyone else.” Jaq momentarily loses himself. One of the girls takes over, she almost resembles an older, more battle-worn Robyn, her right arm a tapestry of swirling green ink.
“How though? How did you survive? We saw you being chased off alone and defenceless? And how did you know about us and where we were?” She barely pauses for breath in the onslaught of questions.
“It’s a long story, and one I’ll share soon, but first we need to get Edwyn help.”
“Edwyn? Here’s here too?”, we lead them around the boulders and over to Edwyn’s frail form, a long stream of blood flowing through the cracked ground.
“He found us when hunting, but we were ambushed,” Guy explains. I choose to let him continue with the talking, I watch silently despite the occasional odd glance in my direction.
“We know, we’ve been following the scouts for a couple of days, when we heard fighting we came as soon as possible,” says Jaq.
“It’s the third party this week,” A gruff man towards the back of the pack interrupts, “they’re getting closer to our camp each time, they must know we’re in these mountains somewhere. Now they’ll know for certain. We saw the archer that got away, he scampered as soon as he saw us. They’ll be back in numbers before long.”
Guy briefly looks sickened by himself, acknowledging the possibility of having caused his people more danger. The look is quick though, and masked by the shadows, soon replaced by a strong, more leader-like expression.
“There are no more for now, but we have to tell the others that they’re coming. Can you take us to them?” a command in the guise of a question.
Together we set off into the night, Edwyn draped between two of our saviours, constantly flickering in and out of consciousness. As we walk Guy takes the opportunity to question Jaq, hoping for more answers than Edwyn would provide. Jaq is more than happy to oblige for his king.
Faceless names are passed between the two of them, accompanied with the label of survivor or fallen. Occasionally the faintest sigh of relief or stifled sob escapes Guy but for the most part he grits his teeth, nods, and asks the next name. It wouldn’t seem that Guy had any living relatives remaining, no reactions indicate that he has asked about the survival of a sibling or family member and of course he had witnessed the unfortunate death of his parents first-hand. This paired with the knowledge of his uncle’s death and the quietly concealed pity emanating from Jaq makes me wonder if the boy is now an orphan.
I catch a few of them staring for a few seconds too long, no doubt observing the marks on my face, but I am far too accustomed to such treatment and too tired to care. It also gives me a chance to study their own and it is with shock that I discover some of the night’s shadows swirl into familiar shapes, decorating the faces that look back at me. A couple of the men are more ink than skin, tricking my eyes in the low light. For now, at least, they seem content enough with their rediscovery of Guy, thankfully my appearance pales in comparison and they soon return their full attention to their returned king.
We also learn a little about the colony men, or Halpians as they called them. They had tracked the survivors to these mountains but after a couple of days of harsh weather the trail had been lost. Now they scouted the peaks, slowly closing in on the camp. A couple of hunters like Edwyn or other providers like the fisherman on the lake had not been seen in days, presumed captured or dead. Yet the
