running out of the opening, straight in Mikkel’s direction. Two orc brigands intercepted his path and the naked warrior cut one in the neck and punched another down. Mikkel saw a big V-shaped tattoo on the big man’s broad back. He snapped his spyglass shut.
“Man, its Vee!”
Chongo bolted to his master’s aid while Mikkel jumped on his horse and led the other mount into his friend’s path. Two more brigand soldiers cut off Venir, but Mikkel shot one clean through his skull and Venir almost severed the other in two with a wide swipe through its belly.
“Come Vee! Let’s go!”
Jarla’s men were coming, shouting in alarm. The whole brigand army seemed to be awake and on the move, but Mikkel and Venir had the jump on them. Venir leapt onto Billip’s readied horse and they raced down the hillside and into the ravine. Chongo lead the way. Hard and fast they rode, and to their surprise nothing seemed to stand in their way.
Billip did it! , Mikkel thought.
They even passed clear of the Ravine Watch at the end of the pass. Billip must have led them all on a fox hunt.
As they galloped clear of the ravine, he shouted to Venir, “Good thing Billip left his horse for you!”
“Why?”
“There’s no way I’d let you ride with me looking like that!”
Venir had forgotten all about his nakedness.
“We’d better get you into some of clothes. If Billip or anyone else sees us now, we’ll never live it down! ”
“I’m just happy to be alive, either way!” Venir yelled.
“I heard that!” he said.
They rode hard toward Outpost Thirty-One with a large portion of the brigand army in heated pursuit.
CHAPTER 13
The colorful banners of the Royal houses of Bish flapped above the massive wooden walls of an ancient fort. Outpost Thirty-One was one of a kind, the only structure in Bish built from the massive trees of the Great Forest. Yet these trees had not been cut down. Their rock hard dark woods were rare, fallen specimens, carried by giants long ago. It was a gift to the good men of that time.
Such was the story passed down over the centuries. None knew if it was true, but none cared, for such was the way of most men, self-centered, cold, and focused on the now. The fort complex sat high on a forested hilltop in the southern lands of Bish. It was a perfect square with outer walls twenty feet high. The gates in the opposite corners of each wall faced north, south, east, and west, from which straight, gravel-filled roads ran. They were busy roads, a strategic foothold that maintained order in this region and protected the commercial trade routes. All of the subordinate forts scattered throughout the south were commanded from here.
In the burning midday haze the fort appeared like a majestic castle, blending in with its surroundings, among the distant hilltops that gazed upon it. Many uninvited eyes stared at Outpost Thirty-One, for the outpost was subject of their siege. The underlings and the brigand army had cut off all the roads and laid waste for miles around. All human communication throughout the southern lands of Bish was cut off. Many would have agreed that the Royals had it coming, but when it came to an underling assault on the upper world, the selfish human race was Bish’s one and only hope.
Jarla’s brigand army was busy taunting the confined Royals soldiers, sending kobolds close to the southern gate to deposit mutilated corpses, heads and body parts of soldiers for all to see. The tiny horned humanoids cowered behind small wooden shields, but occasionally an arrow from a vengeful archer would pierce their small bodies, adding to the stinking heap of flesh and flies that lay baking in the sun.
Deeper south in the forest was the large beige tent that quartered Jarla, the Brigand Queen. Alone inside, she was studying maps and battlefield notes. Her beautiful face, now scarred and twisted from a fate she was unprepared for, was drawn in a tight frown. Unlike most women on Bish,
Rev. W. Awdry
Michael Baron
Parker Kincade
Dani Matthews
C.S. Lewis
Margaret Maron
David Gilmour
Elizabeth Hunter
Melody Grace
Wynne Channing