Author's note:
This is chapter five of my series Lost Colony. Most readers should start with chapter one, but if you want to scroll down to the steamy parts, be my guest!
This is a work of (science) fiction. All characters are over age eighteen. Thanks for reading!
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Lost Colony: Chapter 05
***
"You owe me four-hundred tokens," Efreem said.
"Shit!" Sparr cursed. "That was a lucky throw."
The two were playing a game devised to pass the hours between caravan stops. In the wagons, maidens sang songs, the pious debated theology, and the bachelors argued who was the most successful or had the largest penis. Sparr and Efreem walked alongside, just far enough away to escape the dust.
"All of my throws can't be lucky, Alain." He was smiling thinly, a rarity for the otherwise reserved man. "Anyway, it's your turn."
"That one," Sparr said, indicating a tree perhaps thirty meters to the side of the road. "Three, two, one." Both he and Efreem hurled stones toward the tree. Sparr's stone struck near the base, but bounced wide. Efreem's stone landed short before rolling to a stop no more than two meters from the trunk.
"Two hundred and twenty tokens," Efreem said. "What did we agree on? For each hundred tokens, you'd pack up my tent for a week? A few more rounds and I'll be set for the entire pilgrimage."
Sparr groaned. Both he and Efreem had only a handful of tokens. Sparr had earned his at the Departure show one week earlier, the coins raining down as he and Phia had fucked in front of the rowdy crowd. Efreem had been given a few for filling-in for one of the guards. Neither of them had anywhere near enough to gamble. Instead, the two had settled on 'imaginary' tokens as a medium of exchange.
"I think you have enough imaginary tokens to buy my freedom."
"Now, why would I do that?" Efreem asked. "Then you wouldn't stick around to pack up my non-imaginary tent."
Sparr had yet to tell Efreem that he had no intention of returning to Vonde with the caravan. Once in Shong, he would either stay to search for answers, or find some new direction. He had toyed with the idea of recruiting Efreem. The man was capable in a fight, and would know local geography and customs. On the other hand, Efreem's seeming acceptance of enslavement left it unclear whether he would run if given the chance. The question was worth exploring.
"Efreem," Sparr began, "your village taught its children to fight, as protection against slavers."
"Yes," said the dusky skinned man. He picked up a stone and cast it toward a new tree.
"So, why don't you try to escape? You're young, fit, handy with a blade. Don't you want to get back home?"
Efreem stared back at Sparr with his usual, bland expression. He looked back toward the caravan. "The guards are more alert than you think," he said. "They let us walk alongside the wagons, but no farther than that."
"I don't necessarily mean right now," Sparr said. "At night, or when you go to relieve yourself. Or back at the temple. We could easily have escaped from the roof."
This time, Efreem's gaze was more direct. "Why haven't you?"
"I've thought about it," Sparr said. "But I want to get to Shong, so for now..." He trailed off.
"Why Shong?"
Sparr noticed the way Efreem had redirected their conversation. "Well, I asked you about going back to your village, right? To your family?"
"You have family in Shong?"
"No," admitted Sparr. "But I may be able to contact them from there."
Late morning welcomed them, its warm, gentle light chasing away the thin line of clouds. The two men trod over a ground cover of tightly coiled sprouts that grew wherever enough light reached the soil. For a time, Sparr let himself be distracted by the segmented insects that made the plants their home. When nudged, they would curl into a ball.
"Servant or slave." Efreem hadn't forgotten Sparr's question. "My brother was apprenticed to a cooper. I only saw him one time since, before I was captured. He worked long days, slept in the shop, and was given little food." Efreem produced a twisted smile. "At least I get to see the world."
It was a fair point. Efreem was fed, had the protection of the group, and even given a few tokens. The same was true for Sparr, who in addition, experienced a surprisingly rich sex life.
"I don't think they'll keep us long, Efreem. We don't belong in the temple."
Efreem eyed him quizzically.
"Liette bought us to spite the Governor. You she keeps around because they needed one more guard for the pilgrimage. I'm still here because right now she likes having an animal to show off."
"And because you fuck her."
"Yes, yes, and because I fuck her. Shit." Sparr by now had all but given up on any shred of decorum. "But how long will that get me by? Lell already warned me that Liette has a short attention span when it comes to men."
"So once you get to Shong..." It was Efreem's turn to dangle a question.
"I don't know what I'll find in Shong. But I'm sure the temple isn't my destiny." Sparr tried to read Efreem, but the man was like the sphinx. "I could use a friend on my path."
Efreem turned toward the wagons, then back to face Sparr. "A friend. That's-." He was about to say something more when a voice called out to them.
"Efreem, Animal!" Kern, the head of the caravan guard, was calling out. He gestured toward the front wagon. "Clear that!"
The two trotted back toward the first wagon, where a fallen tree had halted the pilgrims. It was thick enough to block the road, but not too heavy to move. The driver had already hopped down to help. Kern watched from the seat of the second wagon.
"You two," Sparr said, gesturing to Efreem and the driver, "take either side of the branches. I'll grab the base." He began to lift the trunk, then stopped. Something was odd. The trunk had been cut with a blade, the wood just starting to ooze a thick sap. Sparr dropped the tree. There was movement. "Kern! Watch out!"
A band of men leapt from concealment along the side of the road, tossing aside the brush which had acted as camouflage. Kern just had time to block a blow aimed at his head. Off balance, he fell back. The attacker, a gaunt, feral-looking man, leapt onto the seat. He might have killed Kern with his next blow, but was startled by the shrieks of the driver, who fled the wagon by leaping between the two draybeasts. Kern dropped the attacker with a kick at his legs. The two grappled desperately.
Two men sprang toward Sparr, each armed with crude knives. The first stumbled, caught up in the camouflaging branches. Sparr lunged, knocking the man backward, and clutching at the arm which held the blade. Like the man attacking Kern, Sparr's attacker was thin and wiry. Sparr felt the sting of the blade on his arm, but found the man's wrist. He hammered the man's hand against the ground, then repeated the motion until the blade fell. When the man tried to wriggle free, Sparr punched him, seized the blade, and drove it into the man's side.
Something loomed behind him. The second man aimed a blow at Sparr, who, half-laying on the ground and facing away, was defenseless. The best he could manage was to twist away, trying to present a moving target. To his surprise, his attacker faltered. The man turned away. Sparr scrambled to his feet.
Efreem had engaged the man, jabbing and swatting at him with a tree branch, giving ground but staying clear of his attacker's knife. The man seized the other end of the limb, and for a moment the two wrestled for control. Sparr stabbed him in the spine.
Behind them, the line of wagons was erupting in chaos. Kern had gained the advantage over his assailant, and was slowly choking the man. The other guards hadn't fared as well. The stout man guarding the supply wagon lay on the ground, dripping blood from half a dozen cuts. Two of the attackers had taken the reins and were trying to goad the draybeasts off of the road. Farther back still, the pilgrims screamed in terror as they fled the wagons. The last two guards still stood, but were outnumbered. Though almost certainly too late, Sparr rushed down the line of wagons toward them, followed by Efreem. One of the guards took a blow from a club and staggered back, dazed. Another of the attackers leapt forward to finish him with a knife. He never reached his target.
Tuck and Drian stormed into the melee, hooting, and swinging the stout poles they used in practice. Tuck struck the shoulder of the man with the knife, disrupting his attack. The man with the club swung, but the youth, perfectly adopting the defensive stance Sparr had taught him, knocked the blow wide. Before the attacker could try again, Drian cracked him hard on the skull.
The ambush turned into a rout. The attackers turned to face the youths, but failed to notice Sparr and Efreem. Sparr slashed one from behind, as did Efreem. As the two men stumbled forward, they became entangled with their remaining comrade. All three fell quickly.
A scream rang out behind them. Sparr, fearing he had missed one of the attackers, sprinted back. Kern was just pulling his sword from the body of one of the two would-be wagon thieves. The other was stumbling frantically toward the edge of the wood. They let him go.
***
It didn't take long to sort out a new order in the caravan.
They had lost two guards, the stout fellow that had fallen at the supply wagon, and one that Sparr hadn't seen killed. Another was in terrible pain, probably from a broken collar bone. Silla served this one strong spirits while Kern and Liette quarreled about the correct path.
"Turn back now," Kern said. The guard captain was a greying, but solidly-built man, a modest network of scars tracing across his cheek, chin, and arms. He was, Sparr decided, exactly the man you'd expect to see if you called central casting and asked for a 'grizzled veteran'. He continued. "I can't secure the caravan three men down."
"We can't," insisted Liette. She shook her head. "You know how much is at stake here, both for us
and
the Governor." The priestess made clear the implications for the Governor, and, by extension, Kern, if the pilgrimage was a failure.
"Right now, we turn around, we can probably get back safely." The guard captain's expression was as hard as Liette's. "Another attack like that one and what the Governor thinks will be of no interest. Half of securing the caravan is
looking
well protected. Can't do that with only three uniforms."
Liette was about to counter when Sparr spoke up. "If I might," he said. Liette stared at him coolly.
"Tuck and Drian fought well today. Yes, they need further training, but put them in a uniform, given them a blade, and they'll look just as dangerous as the men you've lost. And they're young." Sparr knew this last point wouldn't be lost on Kern. Both of the fallen men were over thirty-five.
