“Maybe. Especially the one we ran down,” Relam agreed. “He came from this pavilion, remember?”
Oreius nodded. “Yes, I-”
He broke off as one of the sergeants reentered the pavilion. “Your man had some more nobles on him,” he said, nodding to Relam as he dumped a double handful of gold coins into the chest. “Seems they grabbed all they could carry before running.”
Relam nodded. “Thank you, sergeant. Carry on.”
The sergeant saluted and retreated from the pavilion. Relam sighed and went back to packing up the priceless contents of the table. When he had finished, he shut the chest and handed it to Oreius.
“Keep that safe, will you? I’m going to go and see how the others are getting along.”
Oreius hefted the chest, holding it under one arm. “It’s safe with me,” he promised. “But by the look of things, there’s even more wealth in those carts that were parked in the center of camp. Good haul for the bandits.”
Relam shook his head in disgust and exited the pavilion. He hadn’t noticed the contents of the carts earlier, but now he took time to look. The first cart was filled with silks and priceless fabrics. The second was filled with food and weapons, and some of the swords and knives had jeweled hilts. The rest of the wagons were filled with a jumble of goods: furs from the north, oils and fragrances from Mizzran, iron from the Najni range and much more besides.
“Impressive,” Relam muttered, jumping down from the last wagon. “Get all of the wagons ready to move,” he ordered the nearest soldiers. “We’re taking the lot back to Etares.”
The next three hours was spent organizing and loading trade goods and money. Fortunately, there were plenty of horses and oxen to pull the carts, since the bandits had used the beasts to bring the loot to the camp. There was also a clear track, leading north from the bandits’ camp, which gradually angled back towards the main road.
Before setting off, they ate a hearty, celebratory lunch around several large fires. For the first time in two days everyone had a hot meal and there was a complete lack of nervous tension in the air. The mission was a success, with minimal injuries, and that was cause for much celebration. Only a few soldiers had even been wounded in the battle, and none had been slain. The four prisoners, all that remained of the sixty-odd bandits that had been plaguing the Midwood, sat quietly to one side. They were not offered food or drink, nor were they foolish enough to beg for any.
When at last every stomach was full, the cavalry mounted up and moved into formation. A handful of soldiers abandoned their normal mounts to act as wagon drivers for the journey home. The prisoners were bound at the wrists and linked together by a lead rope, tied to one of the wagons. They shambled along in the middle of the procession, utterly miserable and completely defeated.
Relam and Oreius led the way once more, riding out in front of their victorious soldiers. Though the pace of the march was far slower on the way back than on the way to the bandit camp, Relam was content and cheerful, and for the first time he was able to appreciate the serene beauty of the forest around him without worrying about what threats it might conceal.
An hour into the journey home, Oreius moved closer to Relam so they could talk privately.
“So, was it everything you hoped for?” he asked, jerking his head at the cavalry following behind them.
Relam smiled. “I wasn’t sure what to expect,” he said finally. “I thought that I wasn’t qualified, that I didn’t know what I was doing. But I guess I did all right, with your help. No soldiers lost, sixty bandits dead or captured, and a small fortune in trade goods and money.”
The prince paused, his smile fading slightly. “And yet . . . the battle itself was terrible.” When Oreius said nothing he forged on, trying to explain himself. “I mean, we won, obviously, and that was good . . . well, great. But there was so much pain . . . and death.”
“I understand,” Oreius replied softly. “More than you know. War is a terrible thing, Relam. But, it is often necessary. There are evil forces in this world, bent on killing and destruction. And it is the job of warriors and soldiers to hold them back, keep them at bay, so that normal people can live their lives in peace.”
Relam nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right,” he murmured. “It’s just complicated.”
“Actually, this engagement was quite simple,” Oreius pointed out. “Evil men doing bad things. I’d say we did the right thing by putting an end to it.” The old warrior looked away for a moment and lowered his voice even further. “The right path is not always so clear.”
They fell into silence, each occupied with his own thoughts, and continued the journey back to Etares. Behind them, the soldiers rode in their disciplined formation, the wagons plodding along in their midst. The sun traced its path across the sky, until finally it began to sink in the west. At that point Relam called a halt and camp was set up. Fires were built and the second hot meal of the day prepared. Then, after a pleasant evening, the men rolled themselves in their blankets and slept.
The next day passed in much the same way. The cavalry rose early, prepared the wagons and started on their way, following the forest road back north and east, towards Etares. The weather remained fair and they made good time. By the time camp was made that night, they were less than a day’s ride from Etares.
About midafternoon the following day, the cavalry emerged from the Midwood and rode out
