Resettling the Lost Kingdom

[Kryssal]

It was early in the evening when the hillmen had attacked, but now, slightly past mid of night, the fire of the town hall was finally starting to smolder to embers. It was still too hot to get close, but at least the flames had left, making any danger of it spreading very unlikely.

Tane could still see the hall's glow from the open flap of the trading post tent. Rubbing his temples, he went over his plan one more time before stepping out and addressing the gathered Rangers and settlers.

Raising his hand, he got their attention and a hush fell over the small crowd.

"We're going to the hillmen's village at dawn," several burst of shouting erupted from the crowd and Tane had to raise his hand again to try and quiet down the men eager for battle. "Not all of us are going," ignoring a few protestations, he pushed on. "The town still needs to be on guard in case the hillmen decide to strike again. We lost many loved ones tonight...too many, and I'm not going to chance another slaughter by leaving the settlement open. Borgand is in charge of the settlement as always, so if told to guard the settlement, report to him."

Tane turned and called Hothem to him. "Go through these men here and decide which ones are able and fit for the journey and fight. The ones you deem need to stay, tell them to go report to Borgand," Tane glanced at the group that was now talking amungst themselves, each man swearing they'd get retribution from the hillmen. "I don't want anyone coming that is too blood thirsty. Another blood bath isn't going to help any of us."

Hothem nodded and started going through the men, telling each one where to go. Tane turned to the other side of the crowd and started to do the same when Awyrgan stepped in front of the crowd with a determined grimace on his face.

Tane looked Awyrgan up and down and noted several wounds that would make a normal man take to bed recovery. Before Tane could say anything he pronounced, "I'm going and you know it."

Tane nodded slowly. "All right, but if you fall behind, stay there. We don't need to cover for wounded Rangers."

Awyrgan was about to make a sharp reply, but found that it didn't matter regardless. He had gotten what he wanted, and if truth be told, if Tane had ordered him to stay he would have gone anyway. This was one hunt he was not going to miss out on.

Awyrgan nodded and turned to leave when Tane hailed him back. "How's Thoronmir?"

The old Ranger shifted his position, standing up straighter. "'Bout the same as me in all regards."

"Alright," Tane understood that to mean Thoronmir was hurt, but just as stubborn as Awyrgan. "Tell him the same thing I told you."

The rest of the settlers and Rangers went by in a blur until Alearindu came up to Tane with an angry look on her face. "Hothem has informed me that I am not to go to fight the hillmen!"

"Alearindu-"

"No! I am not to stay behind. I'm as good a fighter as any man going!"

"You're also injured!" Tane raised his voice a notch to get Alearindu to stop so he could speak.

Her eyes were angry and hurt, but she waited for him to continue.

"I know you can fight. This isn't special treatment against you. That burn on your shoulder is going to hamper your fighting much worse than any scrape."

Alearindu unclenched her jaw and took a deep breath, gathering her arguement. "The burn is not that bad and the only other real injury I have is just a small cut. I can still ride, can still shoot a bow, and can still swing my sword with force," to demonstrate her mobility she swung her arm up and around, controlling her face so that she wouldn't wince. The burn had tightened her skin, but she knew she could fight.

Tane stared at her eyes, seeing the determination. She seemed just as resolute as Awyrgan and Thoronmir. "Fine, but you're going to be in my group."

Alearindu smiled and gave Tane a quick hug. "I knew you'd come to your senses."

Tane snorted. "I think I left them in the trading post."

~*~

All the men that were going to go to the settlement were gathering their weapons and horses when Tane went to see Borgand. The leader of the settlers was barking out orders and moving around as if he were stomping out hillmen with each footstep. When he saw Tane he waved those around him away so that they could talk privately.

Borgand's eager voice started before Tane had even reached his side. "You're about to leave then?"

Tane nodded slowly. "We've selected about thirty men to go, about half of them are settlers."

Borgand didn't seem to hear him. "Bring them all back and then we'll see.... Tane! Bring them all back."

Tane didn't like the sound and shift of Borgand. The man needed some rest, at least, but even then the Ranger didn't think it would get rid of that gleam in the Leaders eye.

"I wil...."

Borgand smiled disarmingly and clapped Tane on the shoulder. "Good....good..."

~*~

Tane had been disturbed by Borgand's behavior, but now he needed to address the fighters one last time before they started out for the hillmen. There were around forty men going, almost half of them settlers. Even though the Rangers had lost several men to the hillmen, they made up for it with all those in from the camp.

Hothem came up to Tane. "They've been split like you've asked, and we're all ready to go."

"Good." Tane mounted Skit and faced the two groups, once again raising his arm to get attention. "Hothem and I will be leading the two groups. Hothem's will be going in first, attacking head on while my group will spread out and try to cover as much perimeter as we can. Let me make it perfectly clear, this is not a retrubution blood bath! You are to kill only if the hillman will not stop fighting and you cannot disarm him. Get the warriors first. Bring them back to the perimeter where I will have several men there to hold them. When the fighting slows down, help those guarding so that the hillmen have no chance to overtake our men. Once the warriors are captured, gather the women and children. They are not to be harmed! We'll move them en masse back to the settlement where they can be held accountable for their actions. Let's go."

Tane swung around and started out, Hothem still at his side.

"Tane," Hothem looked back at the men who were still turning around to start out. "You told me you were wary of Borgand and his wish to bring them all back."

"I still am, but if I leave the women and children I won't be able to protect them."

"And what are we to do with them once Borgand is done with the men?"

Tane looked sharply at Hothem. "I'm not bringing them to the settlement just to be killed. There has to be some solution.... Let's focus on the upcoming battle for right now."

Hothem nodded and they continued in silence.

~*~

It was nearing dawn when the group was close enough to the hillmen's village to split into the two groups again. Hothem's group had left their horses and were proceeding on foot, running lightly across the shadowed terrain. Tane made sharp movements with his hands as Hothem was almost to the village and his group started galloping out to cover the perimeter. Kicking Skit into action Tane went straight forward. He was going to cover their entrance, in case any hillmen decided to get his men from behind.

Soon shouts were coming from the village and all the men, hillmen, settler and Ranger became a giant swarm in Tane's eyes.

[Carrûn]

Awyrgan had positioned himself with Hothem's group. He listened with a dull sort of indifference to the chatter surrounding him as the men made ready to leave. Many of the settlers voice held a shrill tone, angry and eager for revenge. He glanced around at the other rangers, most of whom were sitting still, waiting; veterans with nought more but a look of grim determination on their face. Even the youngest of them seemed old.



A quiet stirring among the men caused them to fall silent. Tane had ridden up and was addressing the group. "Hothem and I will be leading the two groups. Hothem's will be going in first, attacking head on while my group will spread out and try to cover as much perimeter as we can. Let me make it perfectly clear, this is not a retrubution blood bath! You are to kill only if the hillman will not stop fighting and you cannot disarm him. Get the warriors first. Bring them back to the perimeter where I will have several men there to hold them. When the fighting slows down, help those guarding so that the hillmen have no chance to overtake our men. Once the warriors are captured, gather the women and children. They are not to be harmed! We'll move them en masse back to the settlement where they can be held accountable for their actions. Let's go."



A pale moon highlighted the shadows of the forty or so men moving through the wilderness. Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled. Awyrgan smiled. The wolves hunt as we do. He mused their leader's instructions over in his head. They were noble, but the weathered man doubted they would work in practice. He deeply hoped he was wrong.



A small ray of light was beginning to break over the skyline as they approached the camp. The groups split into two again, with Hothem's group moving directly towards the camp. Awyrgan closed his eyes briefly, checked that his sword was loose it it's sheath, and notched an arrow to his bow. One of the men stepped on a branch, snapping it and a dog barked. The dam burst and the patrol swarmed forward into the village.

[VanimaEdhel]

Light was about to spill over the Western line of the horizon. Barzûn sat by a fire, smoking his pipe and musing at the miles they had yet to traverse before the break of day. Also, the carvings that had been brought to his attention the previous day kept returning as images in his mind. They were done recently. Who could have done them? Only the Hillmen he heard spoken of lived nearby. Were they trying to copy the old and glorious designs? Barzûn grunted as he stood, shaking off his thoughts. There was no way he would put all the pieces of the puzzle back just sitting there. They had to begin the trek back to the settlement if they wanted to reach the camp before midday so they could get back to building.

“Dwarves!” Barzûn grunted, moving amongst the Dwarf bodies, some sitting others reposing. Soon, they all stood awaiting Barzûn’s command.

“The sun will rise soon,” Barzûn said, “I want to get back to the settlement before midday. We have to start now. We still have a few miles to go yet, and getting there before midday would be better.”

With sighs from various members, the Dwarves stood, packing and preparing to leave as quickly as they could. Barzûn oversaw the progress, grunting corrections to the Dwarves’ methods of carrying the stone.

“We cannot stand for any more delay,” Barzûn said, “So be careful with those wagons. Alright, Dwarves, let’s move out.”

The train of Dwarves moved along over hills steadily moving back towards the settlement. As he pushed his own wagon, Barzûn pondered the stone carvings more. Say the Hillmen did draw the images: why would they do such a thing? Was there something about the men they envied? Or did they merely admire the designs? Barzûn wondered if the men knew about these carvings. Perhaps the Hillmen wanted to be more like the other men in their designs, valuing the delicate strokes required for such intricate impressions. Barzûn decided that he would ask one of the men about such things. To think that the men expressed worry about the Hillmen! Perhaps they could live in peace after all.

“Oy!” Barzûn said, seeing part of the train falling behind, “Catch up, Dwarves! Come on! We need to make time!”

Barzûn intentionally sped up, moving at about twice his previous speed. The Dwarves grumbled and struggled to keep up. They made good time as the sun began to poke its head out and the dark shadows became fewer. Light began to illuminate Barzûn’s face as he pondered the carvings and their origin.

[Tinuviel of Denton]

Kestrel had left most of their belongings behind in the hut, since she could not carry both her children as well. Flint was ensconced on her shoulder, his head resting by her cheek and his tiny fingers gripping her hair, which she ignored even when he accidentally pulled. Rain had been riding on her hip until dawn, when the light woke her, and now trotted alongside her mother, clutching at her leather tunic with a grubby hand. They made a pitiful sight, all told.

The buildings in straight lines that had so amused and puzzled the warriors the previous night did not look so grand now. Perhaps that was because of the rubble that surrounded them, and the scorch marks from the previous evening's fire. Perhaps it was merely that Kestrel was less interested in the architecture than in asylum.

The men who were moving around the buildings looked very different from the men she was used to seeing. They were taller, straighter, and their clothing was very, very different. She felt more and more uncomfortable by the moment, but it was far too late to turn back now. Her absence was almost certainly discovered, and she somehow doubted that she would be welcomed back with open arms. More like drawn bows. If any of the warriors had survived the night, that is.

She held Flint tighter and reached down to clasp Rain's little hand in her own as one of the men glanced up, spotted her, and pointed, shouting something she couldn't quite make out.

[Himaran]

The long caravan of dwarves and carts continued towards the settlement, as if a trail of ants pushing their cargo across the ground. Like most of the others, Olin was tired a grumpy, but his spirits were lifted by the prospect of a few days rest back at the camp. He was, of course, sadly mistaken.

"What's going on here," the dwarven leader shouted upon entering the settlement. Everything was in a state of complete disaray, and a foul stench hung in the air. Olin looked around at one tent, which had collapsed and been trampled to the ground. Fighting, perhaps?

A man carrying a load of debris walked past them. "Hillmen attacked. They were fought off, but did some considerable damage. We'd be much oblidged if you could help us in the clean-up effort."

The dwarves, who had done nothing but pick up stone for days, were not exactly pleased with their new job. They did, however, set their carts aside and join the group fixing up the camp.

[Kryssal]

No hillmen were approaching Tane yet, and he hoped that it meant the captures were going well.

Soon after that thought had flashed through the Ranger leader's mind he saw a settler fighting with a hillman that was much larger, and another hillman was fast approaching from the rear. Kicking Skit into action Tane left his temporary post and charged the hillman coming from the rear.

They clashed swords and Tane quickly moved to turn Skit around for another pass. The hillman was faster than the horse, though, and Tane found himself wildly defending from a rearing horse that was trying to avoid the hillman's sword. The warrior was not giving Tane any easy in's to his weak points by keeping his sword low with quick jabs being his main assult. One of those jabs caught Tane's leg and blood started to run down his leg and onto the side of Skit, leaving an ugly smear.

The hillman took another swipe at the horses leg, trying to get it the beast to fall with over correction, and as Skit reared again Tane turned her into the hillman, knocking him over. Jumping down Tane brought his sword around to pin the man.

"Surrender!" Tane yelled, but the hillman tried to roll and grab a long knife strapped to his leg. As the long knife left its sheath Tane plunged his sword into and out of the man in two, jerky movements.

Breathing heavily and cursing Tane looked around at his surroundings. He was still at the edge of the village and the only men around him were the settler and hillman he had been fighting. The former leading the latter toward the holding guards at sword point. Tane nodded to himself in satisfaction. At least one hillman had given in rather than perish.

A tent opened next to Tane and he whirrled around, bringing his sword up in defense, but there was no need. The tent was filled with women and children who had thought it save to try and run.

"Come on out," he said as they looked at him fearfully. "I won't harm you."

A mother, holding a two year old in her arms, came out slowly and nodded at those behind her, beckoning her other two children to her side. Tane pointed his sword toward where the prisoners were kept.

"Walk slowly toward that small group up there. Don't try to run. We're not going to kill you or-"

"You have already killed us!" A young female stood proudly, pointing accusingly at Tane.

"Kite!" The mother of three sharply admonished the maiden. "Live for another day. There is time still..."

Tane raised an eyebrow at the girl and she jerked her head away from his gaze. He would have to keep an eye on her. She had an intense fire in her that wouldn't smolder easily.

"Go," he commanded, staying at the rear of them after quickly checking to make sure there was no one else in the tent. The small procession of four females and five children wound their way slowly toward their destination. Tane glanced over his shoulder once in awhile and saw that Skit was still following him, though a little further behind. Should he call Skit to him and mount? But then, they were almost at the guards. Sheathing his sword, Tane looked over his shoulder again and frowned at Skit, who had decided to stop and look at the village behind them where a scream had emitted from. He turned back just in time to see Kite poised with a dagger aimed at his chest. The only problem for the hillchild was that the she had an arrow in her chest.

The mother had turned around in time to see the girl fall and yelled, "Kite! No!", but the warrior child had already died.

Looking around quickly he saw Alearindu a bit off, with her bow still in firing position.

[The X Phial]

Borgand watched as the rubble and mess was slowly extinguished and the clean up began. Fueled by anger, he had driven the surviving men of the settlement hard this morning. Maybe a bit too hard, he suddenly realised, watching the men stuggle with the roof they had just erected the day before. His anger gave way to despair, briefly. All these people, relying on him, and he had failed.

The ex-soldier clamped down his self-pity firmly, there would be time for mulling over his failings later. Borgand was a firm believer in work as the antidote to sorrow, and only wished his body would allow him to throw himself into the clean up physically as well as mentally. He had hauled water with the rest of them earlier, but could not do the heavy lifting required now.

Turning his back on the rubble, he slowly hobbled to the makeshift camp kitchen where the younger boys and walking wounded he had put in charge of making sure there was food while the women were away had already nearly finished preparing the noon meal. A message had been sent after the women, telling them they could return in a few days when the clean up was mostly complete and the problem of the hillmen would, hopefully, have been dealt with. In the meantime, it would be military camp conditions. He spoke his encouragement to the men there. None liked this duty, women's work, but he reminded them that each had comported himself bravely and that they were doing vital work even now.

He sent one of the youngest boys to run the village and announce time for a meal and a rest. Even fueled by their anger and hurt, the men would have to take a break soon. Borgand had no use for a soldier who drove himself blindly to exhaustion.

Sighing, he took a bowl of stew for himself and decided to walk the perimeter of the settlement once again. Despite his feelings about exhaustion in his men, he could not, himself, rest. Paranoia and a nagging sense of loss kept him from sitting still while the hillmen were still out there, free. For the hundredth time he wondered how things fared with Tane and the rangers and stifled his eager hope for their destruction. It was an unworthy thought, and he knew it. Hiding behind this idea of a trial lurked his darker need for revenge. A part of Borgand hoped he would not be in control of it by the time the rangers returned. The dominant part, however, knew that he would be haunted by his actions if he acted rashly. Maybe the missing leg was a good thing after all, he mused angrily, forcing him to come to grips with his fury before the next confrontation.

Borgand paced the camp, eyes and ears wide open. When he reached the southeast border he stopped. Something was on the horizon, and coming toward them slowly. He squinted at the figures, trying to quell the instant feelings of panic that arose in his throat. He could hear them but they seemed to be too far away for that...but...no..they were closer than he had thought, but shorter than he had expected. The dwarves! A sigh of relief escaped him and he was glad there was no one around to hear it. These were not enemies, but his own contracted workers returning. He glanced over his shoulder at the mess that was his village, wondering what the dwarves would have to say about the battle.

Standing tall and squaring his shoulders he called a greeting and waved. Maybe, with the right explanation, they would be willing to join his revenge. He knew, at least, that he could not allow them to get in his way.