Another bloody chapter, as they say in Britain: Dawn.

Stone

13. Off to Battle

The next morning the armed forces started out at sunup. The biggest problem was that they needed to go west, which meant crossing the river. Going down to Greenford was out of the question. Some of the men said it would be possible to ford the river a few miles south of town, since it was quite narrow and shallow there, especially if the dam was not opened at the usual time.

Thus the men forded a mile south of town, and even Doug made no complaints about wet hooves as they crossed the sandy riverbed with only two feet of clear water on it. There were two wagons for supplies, since there were nearly 100 men: soldiers and militia. They also made it through the shallow water.

Once across the river, they headed west, and spent most of the day riding to reach the westernmost farm before the slavers. People at the other farms waved and cheered them on, although they tended to get sober-faced when they found out the purpose of the trip. Stone had to convince several families not to flee to the town for safety. As he put it, if this army could not defeat the slavers, then nowhere was safe. He promised to return the next day, or the day after, and let them know they were secure.

At the last farm the landowner was extremely worked up when he learned that slavers were on the way. “We will stop them here,” Stone said. “We noticed a wisp of smoke coming from your chimney as we approached. Tomorrow, at about noon, we want you to have an even bigger fire. Add in some green wood to make it smoke more. We will lure some of them here.”

“What? You want us to lure them here?” the farmer said. “That is madness.”

“No, I expect that they will send four to eight men to ‘harvest’ slaves. We will be ready for them. Have your son on watch, and when he sees them, he can run and alert the family. You can all run to the barn. We will have men in there to protect you. I can assure you no one will be hurt,” Stone said.

“I suppose. You are the Captain, you know best,” the man finally relented.

“We will only have four in the barn: myself and three of my best men,” Stone said. “The rest will set up a camp over that ridge. Is it in crop?”

“Just hay,” the farmer said.

“We will compensate you for ruining the crop,” Stone said. “In fact, we will have the men swath it down and pile it to the side before they set up their tents, so you won’t lose any hay for your animals.”

“Thank you Captain,” the farmer said. “Do you really think we will be safe?”

“I assure you that you will be,” Stone said. “However things might get a bit messy in the barn when the slavers enter the barn: blood and gore. You may not want your wife and children to see it.”

“We will have them hide in the back,” the farmer said. “After it is over, they will go out to the house through the back door. Do you really think there will only be eight?”

“In that group. After we settle things with them, there will be a bigger battle with the rest. We just want to thin the herd a little first.”

Doug was happy. He was in a warm barn with two other horses, both mares, but neither in heat. There were also the three mares from the other soldiers in the barn, and he had already serviced two of them in the past. Soldiers preferred mares, and Doug had made many of them happy already from the large number that were kept in the town. He was the only stallion in the herd.

Stone wasn’t in the barn much, other than to scope out the building, and make plans for the visitors tomorrow. Then he headed out to the field, where he insisted that the men reap the hay before trampling it down with their horses and tents. Some of the new hay went for fodder for the over 100 horses, which were taken to a small stream to drink. Stone handed the farmer 10 silver for the hay and the use of the field, far more than the man expected. Although a year’s wages in town might be 100 silver or more, in the country, where they raised their own food, 10 silver could be a half-year’s earnings.

The army slept well, with sentries rotating on 2-hour shifts, even though Stone didn’t expect any problems. The watch was more a means of maintaining discipline in a battle situation. Arthur was in the air, and Rayla would alert Stone if there were any problems. No standing watch would be anywhere nearly as effective as his eyes in the skies.

The farmer and his wife fed Stone and Rayla in their house, and even offered them their bed. But Stone insisted that they would sleep in the barn in the hayloft. There were no sexual games that night or the following morning though: Stone said it was too important a mission to be playing.

In the morning Rayla said that Arthur had seen the slave train get into operation for the morning, and estimated it would pass the farm in just over an hour. Stone woke the family, and told the wife that she had a half hour to make her family breakfast before she sent her 15-year-old son out to keep watch. The big smoky fire was lit to attract the attention of the slavers. It was a great adventure for the boy, who bolted down his breakfast and ran out to the point where Stone wanted him to watch from. It was far enough that he would be seen running back to the house once the slavers were in sight, but close enough that the men on horses would not be able to run him down before he got to the barn. Stone’s goal was for the slavers to see the boy and his family run to the barn, so they would not enter the house. The family didn’t have much in the line of furnishings, but Stone didn’t want any of it destroyed.

“They’re coming, they’re coming,” the excited boy said nearly an hour later. It was not what he had been told to say. “Men coming,” was the phrase, and if the slavers were smarter or more alert they would have realized they were expected. But watching the boy and his family running to the barn was all the slavers needed to see. They rode on, pulling up their horses at the barn door and dismounting. There were only five, the boy had reported to Stone as he ran to his hiding spot in the loft, where he could see the action. Stone had been hoping for eight, to lessen the work in the afternoon.

“I seen women in here,” shouted the lead man as he entered the barn. “War is she?” He was already unbuckling his pants as he walked in.

“She is safe,” Stone said, “Let me help you with that.” And Pate swept down and sliced the belt in two. Of course, doing so also sliced the man in two. The other four men had their swords out, but they expected to be dealing with a farmer, not these military men arrayed behind Stone.

The other three men didn’t get a blow in. Pate stroked left and right, killing a man with each blow. The last two didn’t live long either, as she sliced each of them into pieces.

“Damn,” Stone said to his sword. “One of them might have been spared for interrogation.”

“No need,” Rayla said as she slipped the arrow she was holding back into her quiver. “Arthur has told us all we need to know. The train is still moving: at a slave-train pace. If we arrange the men and head north by east we will catch them in less than an hour.”

It only took a few minutes to get the soldiers in the army mounted, and they poured out from behind the barn, with Stone at their head, riding Doug. As soon as the men with the remaining slavers saw them, they formed into a military formation. It was clear that these men were regular troops, and not merely slave train guards, like the ones who had been sent to the barn and currently lay there, in pieces.

While the men of the slave train formed into position, the train behind formed into a circle. There were at least 100 wagons, so there was a lot of room in the middle for all the slaves, and for the horses of their army, which had dismounted to fight on foot as normal.

All of Stone’s men were trained and equipped for fighting on horseback. As usual he rode at the front of his men. Suddenly six soldiers popped out from a nearby ditch and ran at Doug. Stone didn’t even have his sword out, and had not fallen into his fighting mode. As the men ran towards him with swords flashing, Stone realized that he was in trouble as he reached for Pate.

Suddenly the attackers pitched forward, only a yard or so short of Stone’s horse. He could see an arrow piercing each of the men, exactly at the base of the neck. He looked over, and saw Rayla with another arrow in her bow, scanning the area to see if there were others preparing to attack. Stone smiled at the pretty redhead who had just saved his life. She looked up in the sky, and he followed her sight to see Arthur up there. Stone tipped an imaginary hat, and the eagle dipped a wing. It was clear that the bird had seen the soldiers waiting in the ditch, and alerted Rayla, who had fired her arrows as they rose to attack Stone. She must have had all six arrows in the air at the same time: the men had fallen dead within a second of each other.

This changes things a bit, Stone thought. Clearly this army knew that he was the key, and would target him. No problem, he thought as he charged into the mob. He was in full battle mode, seeing only the wireframe opponents that Pate slashed. He saw a flight of arrows come in, centered around him, but his sword slashed through all of them, cutting them in half so they fell harmlessly.

Arrows are Rayla’s responsibility, so Stone ignored them, only swatting away one or two while slicing his sword through enemy bodies. She must have been successful, for after the first dangerous flurry of 20 arrows only a few more appeared.

Stone was being successful on his own terms: he had gone entirely through the enemy square, and saw a fat man sitting on a wagon, and a man who was fit, although older next to him. The older man was clearly the captain of the army, as he pulled his sword out as Doug bore down on them. Stone assumed the fat man was the slaver.

Pate sliced through the captain’s sword like butter, and then continued with a slash through the slaver, whose intestines slid to the ground. The return flick of the sword did the same to the captain.

“Enough,” Stone called out. “Lay down your swords or die.”

With their master, captain and more than half their comrades already dead, the remaining soldiers dropped their swords, and Stone’s army held back. The men had done well: Stone had killed nearly 60, and the other soldiers had killed another 35 or so. Rayla had eliminated 20 archers. None of his men were hurt, although four or five horses were wounded: two badly enough that they had to be put down at the end of the battle.

The slaves merely looked on in amazement as they tried to understand what had happened. They only realized what was going on when several of Stone’s men started removing their chains, and the big man addressed them: “You are all now freed men. We will rest here, and prepare a lunch with as much as you can eat. Those who have sores from the chains should go over to that wagon, where the red haired lady who helped free you will set up a bandaging station. Any women with healing experience should join her to help. And those with cooking experience can get any goods needed from the slave wagons, and start preparing a meal. I have a flint if there is no other way to start a fire. We hope to leave for Greenstone tomorrow.

Stone then explained about Greenswath, and that they would be able to live there as free people, if they wish, or to go wherever else they wished. This time only five of the thousand freed people wanted to remain in slavery, and Stone told them that they would find sympathetic masters in Greenstone amongst former slaves.

Carlson, who had commanded the east wing of Stone’s army came forward. “Captain, there are several wagon drivers who claim to be masters and owners of some of the wagons.”

“Have them bring forward a spokesman,” Stone said.

“I can do that,” a man of about 40 said. “I am Carter, and twelve of these wagons are mine. When we heard that a train was heading out with an army for protection, the five of us joined in. There are about 40 wagons in total that belong to us, and the other 63 belonged to Morduff, who lies there.” He pointed to the fat man Stone had slain.

“Do any of you trade in slaves?” Stone asked.

“Trade … no. Although most of us have slaves as wagon drivers and helpers.”

“Those men are freemen now,” Stone said. “If you want to continue to have them work for you, you will have to negotiate a salary with them. And don’t think that you can just pretend they are free and reimpose slavery on them when you leave. You will make a vow that they will be free forever. At the point of my sword. And it is a magic sword that will know if you are being false, and will slice through your neck like she has sliced through so many of the soldiers you thought were protecting you.”

“Your goods are yours, if you pass the vow, and you can continue to accompany us to Greenstone, where many of your goods may find a ready market, for the town is short of … almost everything. You may also find some goods to buy, although the town is not producing much yet. We will treat you fairly, and hopefully you will return. Only slavers are treated in the manner you saw today. Is Sarn your final destination?”

“It is sire.”

“No sire stuff, call me Captain, or Stone. I need to head down to Sarn myself soon. If you don’t mind waiting for a few days, my army will accompany you.”

“We can wait a few days, or even a week,” Carter said. “Our stock does not require feeding, like the slaves do.”

“They are not slaves any longer,” Stone said. “There is a need for laborers in Greenstone, and they will quickly find work there. Tell me, how do I tell which wagon belongs to which trader? And you said 60 belonged to the slaver, which I will claim for Greenstone.”

“See on the tail of each wagon,” the man said. “There is an emblem burned into the wood. We each have a different symbol, burned in by a hot iron.”

A brand, Stone thought. Clever.

Then Sgt Pothman appeared. “What about the prisoners,” he asked.

“Ah yes, the prisoners,” Stone looked over and saw the remaining 20 or so men, with a guard of eight of his soldiers surrounding them. He rode Doug over there.

“You are prisoners of war,” Stone said. “I already have more than enough soldiers for such a small country, so I am releasing you to return to wherever you came from. It is a parole though: you need to swear to never attack our lands again. And I expect that having seen what our army can do none of you will ever want to. I will keep your swords, and your horses. You can walk out of here with a full belly after lunch, never to return.”

“But sire,” one soldier dropped to his knees. “It is 21 leagues to the nearest town that way. Without horses we will not make it.”

“Some of you may,” Stone said. “It will take four days on foot, I suspect, if you keep moving at a good pace. You can fill your canteens before you go. Is there water along the way?” The man nodded yes. Stone turned to the sergeant. “We packed dried venison for field rations?”

“Yes captain, but it appears there are better rations on the wagons those women are rooting through.”

“Good. Issue each of these men four strips of venison before they leave. It is not enough to keep a man alive for long, but if they only take one strip per day it will keep them alive until they reach the town they are aiming for. They should have no trouble finding it: there is a trail made by 1000 tired feet.”

He turned to Carlson. “Take a small company of men, and head back to Greenstone, and start preparations for a very large influx of citizens. Announce our victory to the farms along the way: they will be anxious until they know. We will be coming back slowly, starting tomorrow morning but only travelling at foot speed. It will take at least two days for us to return. I will send out a pair of scouts on the second morning to give you an idea of when we will get there.”

Carlson saluted, and then turned back to the men to choose his riders. “Pothman?”

“Captain?”

“I want you to organize this camp. The wagoneers will be joining us. These few will eat lunch with us, and then leave. And there are a hundred or so horses around that need to be corralled. Help the wagoneers unhitch their horses as well. They should graze for the rest of the day and into the night.”