[littlemanpoet]

Falco had made it back to his mount when he stopped in his tracks. Falco, Falco, what are you thinking? There's only five of them. He turned around and crept back to the settlement. There had to be a way in for a hobbit. He followed the wall to one corner, turned west and followed it to a large gate, big enough to drive wagons through. There was no easy entry there either. He kept going until he came to the water's edge. He would have to swim, but then he would be under the wall and in. It was a good thing it was still the height of summer.

Falco came up inside the wall, dripping wet. Nobody was nearby. He carefully drew his dwarven made sword and his dagger. He had rough work to do and needed to make quick work of any foe who stumbled upon him.

The settlement was not very big. It was a stockade of timber surrounding a small village with all needs for daily survival inside. Except that there were no smials or houses. Instead there were three long buildings, running east to west, a dirt road passing before them from one gate to the other. The building closest to the north gate was the barn. He could hear lowing and bleeting and neighing coming from it. A brigand stood at the door of the middle one. Maybe that was the prisoners' quarters. Which made the south building the brigands' quarters.

Falco knew that two brigands were stationed at the south gate; at the north gate was one more. He had not realized that, and was happy that he had moved with the stealth of hobbits. That left one more unaccounted for. He could see the doors to the other long buildings, but no brigand stood in front of it. The Maybe there was a back door that he could not see. The thing to do was wait it out and let them create a weakness he could use. He crept along the water's edge until he came to a dock. There were five long boats with their bottoms to the sky. He made note of them; a good hiding place if needed. Up from the boats and the dock was a kitchen house or smoke room. He could smell the stench of roasted meat laying over it. He hunkered up to it and hid in its shadow from the light of the moon, and waited.

The fifth brigand came walking between the middle building and the barn and had words with the brigand guarding the west door, gesturing broadly. The two of them left the door and made for the brigands guarding the south gate. The brigand at the north gate saw them leaving their posts, threw up his hands, and jogged across the length of the settlement to join them.

Falco's heart raced as he crept low to the ground, wishing for cloud cover to obscure his passage. It did not come. The five brigands were heatedly arguing about whether one of them should go over the ridge and check to see what had happened to their cohorts. Falco came up to the middle building. The door was locked with a chain. Falco shook his head, wishing for better luck. He hoped the brigands would stay put, because he was going to have to let them out of his sight. He scurried down the length of the building and came to the end, turned, and found a door in the far end, close to the wall of the stockade. He checked the wall to see how it was built. It would not be climbable in a pinch. He looked to the door; chained and locked as was the other. He could still hear the brigands debating. Good.

He pulled out his cudgel and levered it between the door and the chain, choosing the link that looked to be weakest, and gave a hard yank. His luck changed. The link broke, and without much noise. He pulled the chain loose from its moorings, opened the door, and went in. It stank of man's sweat. The building was lined with makeshift cots, and the cots were full. He went to the first one and shook its occupant awake. The man's eyes opened, looked, and flinched. Falco put his finger to his lips.

"I'm a friend," he whispered. "There are only five of these ruffians guarding the whole place. Everybody up and overpower them! Quietly!"

The man's eyes widened and the look of sleep left them. He got up from his cot on weak legs. Falco winced to see his condition. These brigands had been starving him. The rest of them were in the same condition. Falco wondered if Eodwine was among them. Even in their condition, they were more than a match for five brigands. He told them his plan and it was passed down the line. They followed him out of the east door, that he had broken into, and divided into three groups of forty men, hiding behind each long building. Falco was the first in line behind the brigands' building.

The five seemed to have come to a conclusion, and had decided to send one of their number out to see what had happened over the hill. That one was going to find Falco's pony. But they had made the prisoners' job easier. The brigands let the one through on horse and closed the south gate behind him. The others broke up, two of them coming up the road, walking straight back toward the north gate, one of them heading toward the broken door. All the prisoners flattened themselves against the wall. The two brigands passed by the opening between the first two buildings, and the one stationed himself before the door of the middle building while the other went back to the north gate.

At Falco's signal, the three groups moved out. The forty behind the barn chased and surrounded the guard headed for the north gate. The forty behind the prison building split up between the two guards at each end. Falco led his own forty on the most desperate part of the plan, crossing the open lawn to the south gate where the last guard stood. He heard them coming, turned, and drew his sword, then seeing the rage in forty pairs of eyes, he knew he could not win, and dropped his sword. So it was with all of them. They were quickly overcome, tied up, and prisoners and captors exchanged roles.

Falco remembered the one who had left, and expected his return at any moment. He had forty of the freed men stand waiting for the last brigand's return. Meanwhile, he opened up the barn and let the horses out. The men saddled them and found weapons in the brigands' quarters, and sixty of them were on horseback ready to follow Falco to the aid of the ten.

The one brigand returned, with Falco's pony in tow. The doors were opened for him and he rode in, quickly surrounded by forty men who pulled him down from his steed. This one was foolish enough to think that he had the advantage while mounted, and used his sword before they took him down. He did not survive. Five of the freed men were injured; Falco hoped not seriously. Falco mounted his pony.

The sixty horsemen left the settlement, armed with swords. They galloped out of the valley and over the ridge. Falco hoped that they would find his allies alive.