She had broken camp at dawn, giving Ox a brief hug and a warning to keep her share safe before she had turned and headed north, disappearing into the treeline.
At first the trail left by the Goblin's and Orc's had been a simple thing to follow, the foliage trampled carelessly by their passing. After a few hours though the trail split. It took her only a few minutes however to realise that it wasn't two forces splitting up but rather two combining. This was where the Goblin's and Orc's had joined up. That now left her with another problem, which of the two trails to keep following back to the source?
Wealth won out. An Orc's ear was worth double that of a Goblin so she headed along the trail left by the four Orc's they had killed the day before. By the time the sun had reached its highest point in the sky, Bria had covered three miles. She was beyond the point she had ever ventured before. She wasn't even sure anyone had gone this far north yet. The hunts had mostly operated so far in the dense forests surrounding the mountain ranges and the low hills that they covered. Now however she was moving up the mountain sides, the incline becoming steeper and the tree's less thick on the ground.
Another hour passed before she saw a counter trail, it ran straight through the one she was following. There wasn't much in the way of sign, but she could make out prints from at least three different sets of boots. The trail wasn't as fresh as the one she followed but it wasn't old either.
Cautious now, she unlimbered her bow. In the army she had learnt to draw the longbow, six feet of yew that could loose an arrow with enough force to take an armoured horseman clear out of his saddle. It was too ungainly though for this terrain, its strength lying in its range which wasn't an issue here. Instead she carried a cavalry short bow, a far shorter range but she could put three arrows into a target with it in the same time she could put one in with her longbow.
In the next twenty minutes she found four more trails, all made by groups of three or more Orc's given the size of the boots. Thanks to the odd distinguishing mark in the boot prints, an off center nail, a split thread, she was also able to determine that it wasn't the same group crisscrossing the area. That meant that there was at least twelve, but more likely far more, Orc's in the vicinity. Even if her entire group was with her, that would have made the odd's 2 to 1 in the Orc's favour. The human's might have won in a straight up fight, but they'd have been burying some of their own as well. On her own there was no chance for Bria to claim any victory. The smart move now would be to get her ass back down the slope and head after the others as quick as possible. Grinning to herself at her own stupidity, Bria continued to follow the original trail, an arrow now fitted to her bow and ready to draw.
As darkness fell, she took cover in a tree, climbing about halfway up its length before securing herself to the trunk. She had spotted even more sign of Orc's; the last trail was actually at the base of this tree. There had been something off about the last tracks though, the failing light had prevented her from making a decent examination of the sign so she'd opted to spend the night here so she could look again in the morning. She settled in for an uncomfortable night of sleep. Bria slept fitfully as she had known she would, jerking awake from each light doze at some sound from the forest. The almost silent flight of an owl or the careful stalking of a fox was enough to bring her fully awake, ears straining to identify whatever had woken her.
The next morning, she scaled back down the tree to figure out whatever had eluded her the night before. Bria pulled out some travelling bread from her pack and a flask of water. The bread had been baked twice so that it was almost too hard to bite. A little water splashed on it and rubbed in made it soft enough for her to pull off a few sections to chew on. After the unappetising breakfast, washed down with half of the water she wandered over to the newest trail she had found. There were clearly Orc boot marks, of that she was certain. It was the track that was half obscured by the Orc's that had her puzzled. The creature leaving the print had been in front, maybe six or eight Orc's following behind. It looked like a hoof print, not a horse though, maybe a cow? But if it was a cow how had it ended up here? Whenever Orc's had raided cattle, in her experience anyway, they had more often than not slaughtered the poor beast before long and feasted on its meat. This one appeared to have been driven a long way. Maybe the Orc's had a village or settlement nearby, used a cow for milk?
Whatever the answer, she'd only find out by following the tracks. Thankfully they weren't leading further up the mountain where there was less cover, instead they were running perpendicular to her original course, skirting along the steeper slope. Bria decided to give one more day to this mystery before she headed back to join her comrades.
Chapter 3:
The trail was less than a day old so Bria was cautious about how fast to follow it. It was so clear she could have run along it and never lost the path. But to go so quickly would be to invite trouble, she could end up running straight into a sentry or the camp itself before having the chance to take cover. She settled on a brisk walk, stopping often to check both her back trail and for sounds and movement ahead. A few hours later and she could hear the sound of running water, one of the many mountain streams that ran down into the forest below. A good chance to refill her supplies before pressing on.
As she cautiously approached the sound of water grew ever louder. Bria realised that this wasn't a small stream, it sounded more like a river, perhaps with a small water fall, that was creating such a racket. Just short of the treeline she stopped cold. There were voices now, faint to her ear, the rushing water deadening all other ambient noise. Inching forward, arrow notched and ready, she approached.
There were seven figures visible, six were Orc's. Tall and black skinned, they were doing as she had planned to do and were refilling a number of water skins at the edge of the torrent. The seventh figure was something Bria had never seen before. Like Giants before, it was a thing of legend.
Standing seven and a half feet tall, almost as broad across the shoulders as Ox and his identical twin, had he one, combined. Bare foot, or bare hooved to be exact, iron greaves covering its lower legs, a kilt of leather with the strips reinforced with iron studs around its waist. A moulded leather chest plate, removed for the moment as the creature seemed to be inspecting it, was used to cover a well-muscled hairy chest. All perfectly normal, besides the hooves, until she considered the head. It had the aspect of a bull, though the features seemed finer, more capable of conveying emotion. The horns were long, two feet each in length, curling out from its black furred head before sweeping up. Both horns seemed to have been tipped with metal as well as they shone silver in the morning sun. Half human, half bull. A Minotaur!
Bria continued to observe him. He was clearly the leader of the group, barking out orders or comments in a language she couldn't quite make out with the noise from the river. He -- or it, the Minotaur buckled its breast plate back in place, one of the Orc's giving it an experimental tug before nodding approval at the fit. The minotaur then scooped up a buckler from the ground, fitting the small shield in place on its left forearm before retrieving its weapon from the ground. A metal trident, seven feet from tips to butt end, which he carried in his right hand as easily as if it were made from wool.
At that moment her view was blocked as an Orc emerged from the tree line not four feet from her. He was unarmed, still pulling up his breeches from the act of relieving himself. She could clearly see the thick midnight black cock in his hand before he started to stuff its impressive length inside the leather coverings. Her slight gasp of surprise must have carried to his ears despite all the other noise, he swung his head in her direction, eyes widening as he saw her.
The Orc opened his mouth, to call a challenge or to summon help, it didn't matter. Before he could utter a word, Bria's arrow took him through the roof of his mouth and into the brain. He embraced death without making a sound, collapsing onto the ground.
He might not have called out a warning, but the act of him dropping dead, an arrow in his face, was caught by the sharp-eyed Minotaur. He gave out a loud bellow, his trident sweeping out to encompass the general area where Bria was still hidden from view. She didn't wait to see who, what or how many were in pursuit, Bria just took to her heels and fled.
The whole surprise of the encounter meant that for the first few minutes, maybe five in total, she ran aimlessly through the forest, not paying any heed to what trail she might be leaving. She caught the sounds of Orc's following in her wake, it was this that kicked her brain back into gear, forcing herself to think and not just blindly react. She started to watch where she was going, still heading generally south but now meandering somewhat as she picked a course as best she could that would leave little or no sign of her passing. She continued in this fashion for another twenty minutes or so, the sounds of her pursuers not drawing any closer. Nor were they fading though. To her right she could hear the sound of water again, she moved in that direction, finding it to be a stream rather than a river. The ground to either side was rocky, so she picked her way along it for a few hundred yards, constantly glancing over her shoulder. The last thing she needed was for them to get within sight of her, then throwing them off the scent would become all the harder.