Lon, Melcart, Valari and Jarl all crawled to lie beside Saeya and peer down over the ledge.
Directly below was another creek much wider than the muddy trench that'd stopped their wagon. This shallow mountain stream flowed fast over a shale bottom. It came down from the north but was turned east by the pine ridge upon which they lay. The flow was only six inches deep and the wildkin had driven an entire wagon-train right down the middle of the watercourse. From where the group watched near the elbow, they could see five wagons faced east on the flat before them and the Calbian dairy herd complained from the grassy riverbanks ahead of the convoy. The beasts were about a quarter mile away and not visible through the trees. The flat land directly opposite their perch, on the other side of the stream was a grassy forest meadow which hosted a dozen large campaign-tents made from wildebeest hides and this camp crawled with enemy warriors.
Lon and friends were just thirty paces away, but well-hidden on the ridge above the encampment. The whole stream bustled with activity but the company fixed their eyes on the elite soldiery who milled about the larger tents. These were the bandits who'd just returned from the raid and now they shared the food they'd foraged with orange-cloaked mystics. They congregated on the grass in the courtyard at the center of the array and therein Lon could see their lunch buffet. One table was heaped with red meat and buzzed with flies. Cook fires burned in metal braziers and the savages would roast chunks of flesh over the flames and then suck on the gristle and smack their lips. This cruel cafeteria was their command center.
A giant stuffed blue bird shaded the scene. Its blue feathered coat looked flawless while its beak and legs were the same shade of orange as the mystics' coarse robes. The stuffed bird had a twelve-foot-wide wingspan and was frozen in flight. It sat perched eighteen feet off the ground, a wood pole fixed to its puffy blue stomach below, yet Lon couldn't see the base. It looked set to protect the meal for the bandits. Were these the same tribesfeigor whose sanctuary they'd trespassed through above the waterfall? It was then Lon recalled how Captain Owen had said the wildkin tribes had combined. This was must be wolfkin and the birdkin come together.
The crew watched the enemy take their lunch until the main tent flap rose and the wolf faced general appeared. He hoisted his blue feathered staff in triumph and his many riders cheered.
"That's Vercino." Lon said. Jarl grunted in agreement.
The enemy general was taller than his minions and his thick black lips curled over long fangs in his wolf snout face. His rusty jacket jingled with every step and the others bent in supplication and seemed to proffer gifts in open hands; they bowed and cooed as he ate their food and drank red wine from an enormous goatskin bag.
"They're slavers." Mel said.
"No. They're not." Valari disagreed.
"Where are the kids?" Saeya asked. Lon could hear them weeping, but nobody could see them.
"They're in that fur covered box Miss Saeya," Jarl pointed and everyone looked and saw... a fur covered box. Tree branches tied together with sinew made the cage. It was covered in bear pelts and deer hides and made portable with carrying bars on the sides.
"How do you know?" Lon asked.
"There's a Northerm with an axe outfront." Jarl pointed and the sea drover focused his eyes and could barely see the top of a shiny axe head; he marveled at the veteran's attention to detail.
The wildkin stronghold was not well organized. Their camp was a shamble of hastily erected tarps and animal skin hutches hidden in the forest and protected by a natural bend in the river. Their compound had been assembled in a sparsely treed forest meadow on the opposite side of the stream. The river bend garrison point was guarded by bored-looking sentries who stood alone, twenty paces apart in the ankle-deep water.
"They're not slavers?" Saeya looked to Valari.
"The children are for the shafeigor," Val said. She blinked the full horror to her blond friend who grasped her meaning at once. No words were required between these two.
"The shafeigor?" Lon asked.
"Those creeps in the orange cloaks." Mel said, "that's what they're called. They do memory-Varget."
"How's it different." Lon asked.
"The strongest of them can sometimes project a glyph, but mostly they just relive stressful memories." the rogue said.
"Huh?"
"Their own recollections of cuts and bruises they've suffered. Like how Zed described." Melcart explained.
Silence.
"I don't like it," Saeya said. "We're so badly outnumbered." She looked at Jarl to invite his professional opinion.
"Unhealthy odds," the veteran guard captain agreed. Lon could see the big cat had already worked out many possible lines of attack. His pointy ears twitched, and he elaborated, "I'm not familiar with your... Fighting strengths, but if you can do what you did..."
"We should wait till Orchee tries for the cows..." Saeya interrupted. The old lionfeigor shook his head no.
"I disagree Miss Saeya." Jarl said, "Calbians are skilled but they can't win that battle with just twenty swords. Not even with their peculiar abilities. Not against that," Jarl pointed at the wagon train and the wildkin's vast military resources laid out below.
"And these bastards. They'll take those kids away up into the mountain caves and..." Melcart said.
"No. They won't." Valari pointed at a circular white dais barely visible underwater on the far side of the stream. "They went straight for the children." She held everyone's attention, "They're up to something. The orange cloaks. Tonight. Under a summer moon. They're making something that needs feigorin sprog on a mountain creek. The water is important."
"Feigorin sprog? Is this some Vargwa bunkum?" Melcart asked
"Sacrifices?" Lon asked.
Valari nodded, more answer than the question deserved but not the whole truth.
"So why did they take the cows?" Lon asked.
"They'll miss their own harvest." Jarl replied. "And maybe to set a trap for Calbians."
"But oh, blazes there are so many..." Saeya bit her bottom lip, and she leaned toward the prudent decision to delay. "There are too many."
"If we don't try and save them right now, then those kids..." Melcart didn't finish.
"But if we fail," Saeya said, "one of us will pay the price. Tragedy always strikes when you're feeling tough."
"Saeya. Tragedy has struck," Lon said. "We can stop it."
"I agree. If there was ever a time for taking risks." Valari said.
"So. They'll wait till the moon's up?" Saeya asked her brunette friend who nodded.
"Nay lass," Jarl said, "if what you say is true, then they'll all crowd around for the ceremony at sunset. It'll be even harder then." Jarl pointed at the banquet tables and the wagons in the creek below, "Now is a surprise. They think they're safe.."
"This is doable right?" Melcart asked the veteran campaigner
"There's a way," Jarl nodded. "Somebody stampedes the cows. That's the way." He cleared the pine needles under his arm and drew a line in the soil which everyone presumed was the creek below. All four masters huddled around the drawing. "We are here. The cows are here. We know that Orchee's force is downriver..." Jarl pointed down to the creek. "The wilduns are garrisoning a hillock, probably this same ridge we're sitting on now, but a quarter mile downriver. See how they hustle in that direction? They've laid a trap over there like-as-not."
Everyone could see the lion was right. Most of the metal-coated warriors in the camp seemed to be just temporary visitors. They'd ride-in and attend to some minor repair or resupply and then ride out again toward an unseen front that was some distance away downstream. But the fighting hadn't happened yet. The sound of battle could not be heard.
Melcart tried to interrupt but Jarl raised a finger to quiet him. He'd only just begun to outline his plan.
"The first thing we do is to eliminate that bowfeigor there, and take-out the other two archers, there and there." The old soldier pointed at the enemy in real life and outlined their perches in his dirt diagram. His experience was invaluable now; Lon hadn't even spotted these enemy bow-hunters.
"Then what?"
"Then we set this mess here on fire." Jarl pointed to a canvas covered supply dump beside the last wagon in the line. It looked like someone had needed to get at the bottom of the load and they'd simply ejected the contents of the last cart onto the grass by the side of the brook. The lumpy cargo was covered with oily tarps. "It will smoke more than burn, and that smudge will slow the cows and give us deep cover. It should get real confusing down there."
Melcart tried again to interject, but again Jarl quieted him with his raised right hand. He still wasn't done outlining the plan.
"Once things start burning here, Sergeant Orchee may ken the full length and breadth of the enemy before him..." The lion pointed downriver again.
"What should I do?" Lon asked.
"You and I, we're going to face them, that Northem." Jarl said, "Were going to get those kids out of that box."
"I'm coming with you." Seaya said, "They know my face. They'll follow me."
"Yes Melcart," Jarl finally acknowledged the rogue.
"How do we get away?" the rogue asked. "Where's our escape route?"
"You can run with the cows." Jarl said. "The rest of us will cross upstream. They can't follow our tracks if we run up the creek a bit to hide our footprints"
It was just assumed that Melcart would be the one to liberate the cows. He studied the soil diagram like a topographic map. "I'll do it. I'll stampede em," he said. "And drop that one first... You'll feel it." He looked at Lon, "that will be the signal."
"I'll take out the middle two." Valari said. It was the only role that remained. Saeya smiled nervously at Valari and reached out to hold her hand for solidarity.
And so, it was decided, despite the odds, they would try.
Both females prayed to Kluth together. Saeya asked the divine being to watch over them to protect them as they carried forth a sacred plan to bring justice to a lawless clan.
Lon wondered if he should pray to Amon. He gave some thought to the deity as he inspected the empty darkness above his mantle. His smilkwell was over half full and he felt better after having gotten some sleep under the oak tree. Now he wished he'd eaten Melcart's acorns and wild strawberry breakfast. Those dirty nibbles would have been loaded with smilk.
When everyone was finished their silent prayers and personal thoughts Lon stuck out his hand. He did it without thinking and everyone looked at him strangely, but then they followed suit and soon all the young masters made a big ball-of-hands and a new ritual was born. The company extended their right hands and interlocked palms and fingers and thumbs and they all looked at each other in the eye and it was a solemn moment for they all knew that despite their best intentions they were about to take feigor lives and there was always a price to be paid for killing.
"Give me five minutes," Melcart said. "You'll feel it." The rogue crawled away west through the shrubs at the top of the ridge. Valari followed a few paces behind.
Jarl and Saeya slunk away in the opposite direction, down the ridge toward the shallow creek and Lon followed them.
The lionfeigor found suitable trees to shelter their descent all the way down to the reeds at the edge of the stream. From behind the tall cattails they surveyed the flat-water body that stretched out before them. Most of the brook was only eight inches deep. Not content to simply hide and wait, Jarl crawled ever closer to the sentry.
There were only two lookouts, but both wore thick leather vests and capes made of animal pelts. There were light-infantry, and each carried round shields strapped to their forearms and steel blades hung ready on their waist belts. Yet they were not alarmed and had their eyes down on their own feet and seemed more interested in catching crawfish to eat. One wildkin used his boot to fish and his companion did the same; both soldiers would stomp the crabs and then bend and stuff them in their mouths when they reckoned nobody watched.
Lon and Saeya stretched out flat on the ground behind Jarl who knelt, ready to pounce.
The trio waited at the shoreline and once again the blond huntress put her palms together in prayer and softly petitioned Kulth to protect everyone there and to forgive them for their sins as they did his work to free the innocent.
Swoosh. The wildkin bowfeigor atop the second wagon glowed with a crisp blue fire and he screamed aloud a shrill warning cry with his last breath. Lon felt the smilkripple a moment after seeing the strike.
Two more pulses came, moments apart. The fight was on!