I could see smoke rising in the distance as I had stopped for a break at the peak of the hill. The smoke rising from the village was far too much for a single stake, something must have happened to the village. I was polishing my sword with its wet stone. I heard trotting and turned to look down the hill, there at the foot was a cart piled high with what must have been loot from the village as following the cart marched about a dozen well armed and armoured troops. They all wore black sleeveless, knee length tunics over their chain mail, one man was sitting astride the cart reins in hand urging the bull onwards. The men spotted me and the first four of them began to jog towards me up the hill, their armour chinking. I should have run but I was tired and cocky. I quickly wrapped my sword’s blade in the rags I used as a scabbard and bowed low to the men as they arrived. Three of them were young, around their twenties I would say, all of them had shaved heads and carried round shields and short spears. The fourth man, who I assumed was the leader, was in his late forties and carried a large two handed battle axe.
“Greetings plebeian” He boomed a friendly smile across his grizzled face which boasted three or four days of stubble. His head was bold as well but a large scar ran across the top down the left side of his face deforming his brow and check bone.
“Greetings, may I ask who are you?” I was defiantly far too cocky but I was of course fast.
“We! We Plebeian are the local chapter of the freedom fighters and you are our newest recruit.” The three young men grinned one of them stepped forward reaching for my sword,
“Big mistake,” I arched myself backwards swinging my sword up from by my side using it tip to slice open the necks of two of the young men and using the momentum to spin on my axis allowing me to slam a round house kick into the last grunt’s face, I heard the crunch as my hobnail sandal destroyed his nose. I continued on my wild spin bringing my sword back round slashing the chest, of the man I had just kicked, open. I came to a halt squared off against the flabbergasted leader of the freedom fighters. He hefted his massive axe and moved his legs into fighting position, grinning like a hyena.
“Now you will make an interesting recruit” I closed in on him my sword resting on my shoulder. I was prepared to dodge the massive but slow blows he would have to use, with such a large weapon, and slide my agile weapon into his neck ending the fight as soon as possible, so I could escape before the rest of the freedom fighters arrived. Suddenly the man hurled his axe at me I easily side stepped to doge but I was unable to bring my weapon to bear as the man tackled me, the last thing I saw was a massive mailed fist racing towards my face.
I was blinded by the pain of my broken nose and blood plastered my face. I felt the weight of his knee pressing down on my chest and right arm. My left arm was trapped under me. I heard the tramping and rumbling of the cart’s axles come to a halt as the rest of the freedom fighters arrived.
“Orders Captain?” Asked disciplined voice betraying no emotion what so ever.
“Sergeant, you are to have the men strip the dead of their armour but leave everything else on them we haven’t got any more room on the cart. And tie this boy up and dump him in the back with the loot.”
“What about the bodies sir?”
“What about them?”
Little did Captain Harrot notice he was being watched from the trees by a young well dressed but muddy teen.
“Jarl...” Whispered Quinn, he crawled backward into the forest and headed back to his Father, Mayor of his home, the village the so called Freedom Fighters had burnt to the ground.