The Branchalite Legionnaires

Chapter 4: The Pensdale Patrol

The snow was coming down thick for the first hour of the ride to Pensdale. It crinkled as soft percussion when it met the leaves on the ground, and blanketed the world with a pristine white. The horses made progress all the same, but it was slow going and so Michelle and Sarah had taken to music to try and pass the time and keep their spirits lifted. They traded songs back and forth for a while, from a repertoire garnered over years in different parts of Ansalon. After the first hour, however, Steven, who was on the front wagon with Michelle, lifted his hand, bringing the wagons to a halt. He turned to look at Michelle, solemn faced.

"Horses ahead," he said in a quiet tone, using the Camptalk language. Michelle thought it was likely just another patrol. They pulled the wagons and horses to the side of the trail expecting the patrol to pass as usual, but as it got closer, Michelle could hear that this was a much larger patrol than normal. When they came into sight, still hard to make out in the falling flakes, it was became apparent that a knight lead about a dozen squires all on horseback. Michelle's thoughts adjusted then: not a patrol, this was a hunting pack.

The knight brought his horse to a halt about thirty feet ahead, a distance where he could discern the two wagons more clearly. He wore a tabard depicting the skull with a lily growing out of it, chain mail on his torso, at least, sword scabbarded at his waist, bow and arrows over his back. The black destrier bore him under a military styled saddle. He had a steel cap on his head, a shield on his back, and surveyed Steven and Michelle with an almost curious expression. "Identify yourselves and prepare for inspection," he stated in a clipped tone using the trade language. Dark eyes lingered on Michelle, and he gestured for the squire behind and to his right.

Michelle recognized the squire – he was one of the men on patrol that she had struck unconscious. She didn't wait, just called back over her shoulder in Camptalk, a signal she and the other legionnaires had agreed upon some time ago. "Firerain."

Michelle couldn't see Sarah or Fandy, but she could hear them, both casting spells. Fandy's she recognized as a defensive trick she employed often, but Sarah's was something new. It spoke of fury and righteous wrath, in a low tone and came from the forest – obviously, Sarah had left the wagon and moved a little into cover. Before Michelle's eyes, as if wilting from heat fatigue, seven of the squires fell out of their saddles and the other squires appeared not only hurt, but most of them were waving hands in front of their faces, unable to see. Even their horses appeared weaker somehow. Steven was off the wagon and pulling his two handed sword, heading for the knight. His slash was solid, scoring a wound across the knight's leg.

Michelle leapt, over the horses pulling the wagon, landing a good ten feet beyond them, before rolling and coming up next to the knight, rapier in hand. Her strike went wide, as the knight turned his horse. He pulled the sword and strapped on his shield, and shouted over his shoulder. "They have chosen to die. No mercy." His blade flicked out to Michelle, but she parried it, moving to the side. Squires moved up to the Knight's flanks and around Steven and Michelle, surrounding them. Their attacks were less skilled than the knight's. They used the hand and a half swords that the squires in Alsip had also employed. Michelle took a cut on her shoulder, but it was the warhorses that concerned her more – one hoof attack struck and was likely going to leave a bruise on her left leg. It hurt atrociously.

Blue flame seared the Lily knight originating from away near the wagons, so Michelle knew that Fandy was still fighting. Sarah used that bolstering blessing of Brnachala that she had used in the Thieves' den and Michelle felt her spirits buoy and the lightness of limb that comes from adrenaline. Steven's next attack was formidable. He loomed next to the knight with an angry expression on his face and yelled something fierce in his native language. He swung the two-handed sword with great strength against the man, trading precision for damage and cut into the knight's sword arm heavily, leaving him severely wounded. His next swing went wide, unfortunately. Michelle maneuvered into a position where the enemy leader could not effectively defend from her attack because of defending against Steven. A flank. Her attack with the dull-sheened rapier drove into the knight's abdomen finding his kidney and puncturing it. The man dropped, but did not fall from his saddle – somehow he retained the saddle, even though he was no longer with the living.