The campfire cast an eerie, flickering light on the surrounding woods. Normally the forest would have been dark and silent at this late hour, but now it rang with the sounds of mens' voices and bawdy laughter.
A young woman sat apart from the general revelry, busily mending a chain mail shirt. She wasn't bound like the terrified prisoners who sat to her right, but she wasn't joining in the celebrations, either; she looked, in fact, utterly bored with the whole affair. After a few more twists, she slipped her tool into a pocket in her jerkin and held up the chain shirt for inspection. She seemed satisfied. With a nod, she put the mail on and buckled her belt over it.
"Not joining in the fun, Tara?" A hulking man with an unkempt beard grinned in her direction. "You should, y'know. A little ale would do you good."
"No, Kernos," she said diffidently, rising to her feet. "Not tonight. I've finished what I told you I'd do. Now I'm leaving."
"Much obliged, I'm sure." He gave her a nod. "We couldn't have done it without you." She gave him a sidelong look, but said nothing. "I already had the boys get together everything you asked for in payment. You've got five hundred gold, your choice of weapons or armor, and a horse and cart to carry it with. You want to take your choices now?"
Tara laid her hand on the hilt of the sword that was sheathed at her hip. She glanced thoughtfully at the heap of valuables the mercenaries had taken in their raid. Her gaze moved to the huddled knot of prisoners. "Actually," she said slowly, "I think I've changed my mind. I've already got my sword, and good enough armor to suit me. I want one of the slaves."
The muscular warrior raised a brow. "Oh?" He looked curiously at the captives, and then back at her. "Are you sure? A slave wouldn't be worth as much."
"Not in money, maybe. But I could use someone to set up my camp and cook for me every now and then," Tara said coolly, flicking a stray strand of red hair out of her eyes. "It's a little tiresome doing all that after a hard day's ride, sometimes."
Kernos shrugged. "All right. Help yourself, then. You can take your pick." He swept his arm at the group of prisoners. "Take whichever one you want, Tara. You earned it."
"Yes. I did." The woman moved to stand a few feet from the captives and folded her arms across her breast, running a practiced eye over the selection.
I want one young and strong enough to withstand hard travel, but not so strong that I'll have any trouble staying in control,
she mused, mentally discarding the males and the older females. Tara also passed over a couple of the plainer girls – she had her pride, after all, and she wanted only the best. Finally, she spotted the one she wanted. A timid-looking, black-haired girl was huddled in between the trunks of two large trees. She was a pretty little thing, not much over five feet, and had large, frightened green eyes. Tara thought she looked about eighteen years old.
With three long strides, Tara crossed the distance between them. The prisoner uttered a whimpering cry as the taller woman caught her by the arm and wrenched her to her feet. "I'll take you," Tara said coldly. "Let's go." The girl stumbled alongside her to the cart that held Tara's money and supplies. She glanced at them, ensuring that everything was there, and then dealt the slave a light shove. "Get in." The prisoner nearly tumbled into the cart in her haste to obey. With her hands tied behind her back, the girl couldn't break her fall. Tara shot out a hand and narrowly saved her from cracking her skull against the wooden side of the cart. She let go again with a snort of impatience. "Sit down. Back against the wood."
Really, Tara didn't think that this fearful creature would pose any threat to her, but she hadn't survived this long by being complacent. She took a coil of rope and bound her prisoner's legs. Then, pushing the wide-eyed girl firmly back against the slotted wooden wall of the cart, she tied her securely to it. Only when she was fully satisfied that the slave couldn't move did she toss the rest of the cord back into the cart. With this little chore finished, Tara moved around to inspect the horse they had given her.
The city they'd razed had been well-known for its horses. They weren't the powerful warhorses that Tara preferred, though; these were smaller and more compact, made for pulling carts and plows. She ran her hands over the russet flanks of the beast, checked its legs and teeth, and peered at the bottom of each hoof.
It will do,
she decided at last. With one final glance at the reveling mercenaries, Tara swung into the saddle and dug her heels into the horse's flanks. It started forward, pulling the cart behind it.
It was nearly an hour's travel before the drunken singing and shouting finally faded into the distance. Tara grimaced. She didn't like to travel by night, but she'd had no desire to stay in the camp. She had no need for such companionship. Normally she preferred to work alone, but she wasn't above making such temporary alliances if the pay was to her liking. She glanced back at the cart with a faint smirk. This last job had paid her gold enough to keep her well-fed for quite some time. She was pretty well satisfied with it. If her new slave girl should prove herself useful, as well, Tara would even consider it a rousing success.
They had been traveling for close to three hours when they came upon a clearing in the woods. Tara reined in the horse and glanced up at the sky. It was probably close to midnight; it would be wise to make her camp now. She swung out of the saddle and led the horse off the road. With deft fingers, Tara undid the harness and tethered the horse to a nearby tree. She hummed under her breath as she began to rub the beast down.
