There
were people inside .
And when their clumsy noises brought no response, the intruders
became emboldened.
They'd scoured the hut and found him hiding in a
cupboard. They forced him to reveal the location of his most valuable
possessions, before leaving him, bloodied and bruised.
When this trading post became available with the death
of its proprietor, Tansley bought it and moved in. He'd learned from
the previous owner that it had a clever means of escape. He was
putting it to good use now.
Reaching the end of the tunnel, he carefully
opened the trapdoor, briefly looked around and climbed out. He stayed
close to the ground and lowered the door gently.
Although not far
from his hut, the combination of the trees, bushes and the embankment
made it impossible for him to be seen from the road. He would take no
chances though, and would remain crouched until he was a good
distance away.
Sweeping some soil and leaves over the door, he picked
up the sack and swung it over his shoulder, before heading down the
embankment and further into the woods.
Relieved to be out in the open, Tansley moved quickly.
He could shout for help if need be, but a look over his shoulder
showed that wouldn't be necessary, nobody was following him.
Stealing another glance behind him he was confident he
hadn't been seen and relaxed a little more.
He continued to move briskly but gradually allowed
himself to stand taller, or as much as the heavy sack would allow. He
knew that before long he would be on a busier stretch of the highway.
There would be more people further along and there would be safety in
numbers.
15
Gregario kept pace with Decarius and Aegis as they made
their way up the highway. Walking slowly, before finding a suitable
tree to lean against, while his companions entered each of the
roadside buildings one by one.
The closely spaced trees around him
made seeing the road difficult, even from forty yards away. So much
so, that he found himself following their progress more by sound than
by sight. The banging on the doors, opening of latches, creaking
hinges and mumbled greetings, followed a minute or so later by the
sound of departure.
After a time, they arrived at the fourth trade house
along, outwardly no different from the others but this one contained
something special. Gregario knew who this one belong to, he had been
before and knew its proprietor. A man more predisposed to trading in
surplus weaponry and armor than any of the others. A man who would
buy military apparel, stolen or otherwise.
Gregario grew more attentive, and looked around for a
tree better suited for the purpose of concealment than support. No
sooner was he in position, than there came the sound of knocking.
Gregario tensed and held his breath. How long would they be this
time? A few seconds passed, and then a few more. Nothing. Three more
bangs sounded through the forest, louder this time, disturbing a bird
which flew away, chirping a warning call as it went. Still nothing.
Gregario
looked around the tree and toward the hut more intently now, his view
was mostly obscured but he could make out some of the building. There
was no obvious movement visible through the upstairs windows, but
smoke wafted from the chimney, suggesting someone was home. 'What's wrong?' He
half-thought, half-whispered to himself.
At that moment, a few yards behind him and to his right,
something caught his attention.
It was the nature of the movement
that unnerved him more than anything else. The ground itself was
shifting, sliding, rising up. There came into view some wooden slats,
an iron ring, a hand, an arm, a hooded figure. He gasped at the
realization of what he was seeing and circled to the other side of
the tree, so he would be concealed him from the emerging man.
Gregario took a few deep breaths and pressed himself against the
silver bark, its width just enough to shield him from view. Once
there, he waited and listened.
From the sounds he could hear, he pieced
were people inside .
And when their clumsy noises brought no response, the intruders
became emboldened.
They'd scoured the hut and found him hiding in a
cupboard. They forced him to reveal the location of his most valuable
possessions, before leaving him, bloodied and bruised.
When this trading post became available with the death
of its proprietor, Tansley bought it and moved in. He'd learned from
the previous owner that it had a clever means of escape. He was
putting it to good use now.
Reaching the end of the tunnel, he carefully
opened the trapdoor, briefly looked around and climbed out. He stayed
close to the ground and lowered the door gently.
Although not far
from his hut, the combination of the trees, bushes and the embankment
made it impossible for him to be seen from the road. He would take no
chances though, and would remain crouched until he was a good
distance away.
Sweeping some soil and leaves over the door, he picked
up the sack and swung it over his shoulder, before heading down the
embankment and further into the woods.
Relieved to be out in the open, Tansley moved quickly.
He could shout for help if need be, but a look over his shoulder
showed that wouldn't be necessary, nobody was following him.
Stealing another glance behind him he was confident he
hadn't been seen and relaxed a little more.
He continued to move briskly but gradually allowed
himself to stand taller, or as much as the heavy sack would allow. He
knew that before long he would be on a busier stretch of the highway.
There would be more people further along and there would be safety in
numbers.
15
Gregario kept pace with Decarius and Aegis as they made
their way up the highway. Walking slowly, before finding a suitable
tree to lean against, while his companions entered each of the
roadside buildings one by one.
The closely spaced trees around him
made seeing the road difficult, even from forty yards away. So much
so, that he found himself following their progress more by sound than
by sight. The banging on the doors, opening of latches, creaking
hinges and mumbled greetings, followed a minute or so later by the
sound of departure.
After a time, they arrived at the fourth trade house
along, outwardly no different from the others but this one contained
something special. Gregario knew who this one belong to, he had been
before and knew its proprietor. A man more predisposed to trading in
surplus weaponry and armor than any of the others. A man who would
buy military apparel, stolen or otherwise.
Gregario grew more attentive, and looked around for a
tree better suited for the purpose of concealment than support. No
sooner was he in position, than there came the sound of knocking.
Gregario tensed and held his breath. How long would they be this
time? A few seconds passed, and then a few more. Nothing. Three more
bangs sounded through the forest, louder this time, disturbing a bird
which flew away, chirping a warning call as it went. Still nothing.
Gregario
looked around the tree and toward the hut more intently now, his view
was mostly obscured but he could make out some of the building. There
was no obvious movement visible through the upstairs windows, but
smoke wafted from the chimney, suggesting someone was home. 'What's wrong?' He
half-thought, half-whispered to himself.
At that moment, a few yards behind him and to his right,
something caught his attention.
It was the nature of the movement
that unnerved him more than anything else. The ground itself was
shifting, sliding, rising up. There came into view some wooden slats,
an iron ring, a hand, an arm, a hooded figure. He gasped at the
realization of what he was seeing and circled to the other side of
the tree, so he would be concealed him from the emerging man.
Gregario took a few deep breaths and pressed himself against the
silver bark, its width just enough to shield him from view. Once
there, he waited and listened.
From the sounds he could hear, he pieced
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