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Authors: Sigmund Brouwer
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stood.
Still silence from the bandits.
The two on his right were close enough that he could hear their breath quicken as they prepared to attack.
They expect me to attempt a break through the weakest part of their wall—the group of two, probably the stronger fighters.
So Thomas did the opposite.
He lunged at the four men on his left and, at the same time, threw both stones at head level. The bandits flinched and ducked, only for an instant, and the stones clattered on the boulder behind them.
But as they ducked, Thomas swung his sword in a vicious arc and plunged directly ahead.
The suddenness of his attack, the distraction of the stones, and the swiftness of his sword bought Thomas only a heartbeat of confusion.
It was enough to get him through their ranks.
Yet his intention was not to flee. What easier target than an open back? No, Thomas focused on the split rock ahead among the large boulders.
Was the split large enough?
Yes!
Thomas reached it only a step before the bandits.
He turned and faced them. Rock now protected him on three sides. The fourth side, open to the bandits, was wide enough to give him room to swing his sword, narrow enough to limit their attack.
The largest bandit spoke to the shadow that covered Thomas.
“Fool,” he spat. “You think this saves you?”
Thomas did not reply.
“You only succeed in irritating us.”
Thomas still said nothing and kept his sword ready.
“Throw us your valuables, and we will leave.”
For a moment, Thomas was tempted. Then he realized they would probably only retreat out of sight and wait for him to reappear in the open. And even if he did survive, without his gold life in this strange land would be next to impossible.
So Thomas only stared at the bandit. The stalemate continued for thirty seconds.
“Search the nearby hills,” the leader of the bandits then called to his men without turning his head. “Find wood and dried brush.”
Two of the men scrambled away from the road.
“You see,” the bandit said, resuming his conversation with Thomas, “I have no intention of risking even one man in direct combat. Few travelers pass here, we have much time, and a fire will easily move you from your shelter.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “I will promise you this. The longer you delay us, the more we will torture you when we capture you.”
The bandit smiled faint amusement and began to whistle tunelessly.
Thomas wondered if this moment might be best to bolt from his shelter. With two bandits searching for wood, his odds were now only one against four.
Thomas noted the layers of scars across the bandit’s forearms.
He has survived many fights.
Thomas noted the relaxed but ready stance of the other three bandits.
Neither are they strangers to battle. I will be sliced to shreds. But better to die fighting than as a helpless captive.
Thomas did not have a chance to answer that question. For a short, high buzz interrupted the shrill whistling of his enemy. And almost in the same moment, there was a light thud.
The bandit looked down at his right shoulder in disbelief. The head of a crossbow arrow, gleaming red with blood, protruded an inch from his flesh.
Another short, high buzz. Another thud. One of the bandits fell to the ground, clutching the shaft of an arrow already deep in his thigh.
The leader turned. The next arrow pierced his hand and he dropped his sword, his mouth open in a soundless scream of agony.
The two other bandits were already running.
“Thomas!” a voice called. “You are safe to join me!”
Spoken in English! And the unseen attacker knows my name.
Thomas stepped into the sunlight.
Above him, a dark silhouette rose at the top of a boulder.
Thomas ignored the two men moaning on the ground in front of him and took another step closer to the man with the crossbow.
The sun behind the man was bright, however, and as much as Thomas squinted, he could not see the man’s features.
The man dropped to the
Still silence from the bandits.
The two on his right were close enough that he could hear their breath quicken as they prepared to attack.
They expect me to attempt a break through the weakest part of their wall—the group of two, probably the stronger fighters.
So Thomas did the opposite.
He lunged at the four men on his left and, at the same time, threw both stones at head level. The bandits flinched and ducked, only for an instant, and the stones clattered on the boulder behind them.
But as they ducked, Thomas swung his sword in a vicious arc and plunged directly ahead.
The suddenness of his attack, the distraction of the stones, and the swiftness of his sword bought Thomas only a heartbeat of confusion.
It was enough to get him through their ranks.
Yet his intention was not to flee. What easier target than an open back? No, Thomas focused on the split rock ahead among the large boulders.
Was the split large enough?
Yes!
Thomas reached it only a step before the bandits.
He turned and faced them. Rock now protected him on three sides. The fourth side, open to the bandits, was wide enough to give him room to swing his sword, narrow enough to limit their attack.
The largest bandit spoke to the shadow that covered Thomas.
“Fool,” he spat. “You think this saves you?”
Thomas did not reply.
“You only succeed in irritating us.”
Thomas still said nothing and kept his sword ready.
“Throw us your valuables, and we will leave.”
For a moment, Thomas was tempted. Then he realized they would probably only retreat out of sight and wait for him to reappear in the open. And even if he did survive, without his gold life in this strange land would be next to impossible.
So Thomas only stared at the bandit. The stalemate continued for thirty seconds.
“Search the nearby hills,” the leader of the bandits then called to his men without turning his head. “Find wood and dried brush.”
Two of the men scrambled away from the road.
“You see,” the bandit said, resuming his conversation with Thomas, “I have no intention of risking even one man in direct combat. Few travelers pass here, we have much time, and a fire will easily move you from your shelter.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “I will promise you this. The longer you delay us, the more we will torture you when we capture you.”
The bandit smiled faint amusement and began to whistle tunelessly.
Thomas wondered if this moment might be best to bolt from his shelter. With two bandits searching for wood, his odds were now only one against four.
Thomas noted the layers of scars across the bandit’s forearms.
He has survived many fights.
Thomas noted the relaxed but ready stance of the other three bandits.
Neither are they strangers to battle. I will be sliced to shreds. But better to die fighting than as a helpless captive.
Thomas did not have a chance to answer that question. For a short, high buzz interrupted the shrill whistling of his enemy. And almost in the same moment, there was a light thud.
The bandit looked down at his right shoulder in disbelief. The head of a crossbow arrow, gleaming red with blood, protruded an inch from his flesh.
Another short, high buzz. Another thud. One of the bandits fell to the ground, clutching the shaft of an arrow already deep in his thigh.
The leader turned. The next arrow pierced his hand and he dropped his sword, his mouth open in a soundless scream of agony.
The two other bandits were already running.
“Thomas!” a voice called. “You are safe to join me!”
Spoken in English! And the unseen attacker knows my name.
Thomas stepped into the sunlight.
Above him, a dark silhouette rose at the top of a boulder.
Thomas ignored the two men moaning on the ground in front of him and took another step closer to the man with the crossbow.
The sun behind the man was bright, however, and as much as Thomas squinted, he could not see the man’s features.
The man dropped to the
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