The stitched hide walls of the Bandit Queen's tent did little to stifle the noise of the feast going on outside. They had felled a boar that very day, and with the ale they had captured earlier in the week still in ready supply, she could hardly fault her men for wanting to enjoy themselves a bit. She was just thankful that their camp was far enough into the forest that the trees swallowed up the sound. The ridge that separated their lair from the village no doubt helped in that regard as well, and also kept the curious from seeing the lights of their fires.
Zara, called The Blade or simply Zara Blade, lay back in her brass tub with a faint slosh of that steaming water. It was significantly too small for her tall, muscular frame, but the blonde woman made do with what she could steal, and nothing larger had come down any of the trade roads. Thus, even with her arms draped over the near edge, her legs sprawled over the opposite rim, letting tiny rivulets of water course over the smooth, bronzed skin of her limbs, to patter on the woven straw mat below.
As she lay back in that tub, she let her thoughts wander. At first to pleasant things, but then to the situation her band found itself in. They hadn't had a great deal of luck of late, and funds were running low. She could only maintain loyalty through strength of arm for so long before her fellows would become restless.
Ingley wasn't exactly a major hub of trade, and pickings were slim at the best of times. Zara stared upward at the peaked roof of the tent above, which was mostly dark. For the hundredth time, she considered proposing that they move camp closer to the capital. Greater prey would mean more profit, but there was the matter of better armed patrols. The last thing that they needed to do was run afoul of the King's Men.
A commotion outside interrupted Zara's thoughts, and she turned her gaze lazily to the flap of her tent. No doubt some drunken revelry had turned to a potentially deadly quarrel. Violent men plied with strong ale were prone to taking the barest of imagined slights as grounds for drawn blades. She was certain it was nothing her lieutenant couldn't handle.
With a sigh, the tall blonde hoisted herself out of the tub, letting that water course down her powerful frame. She picked up a rough rag to wipe herself down, and was still nude when the flap of her tent was disturbed. Silence had fallen outside, which she had taken as the aftermath of her lieutenant's intervention into whatever had disrupted the celebration, but as moments stretched on, it seemed something else was up.
"Lady Blade," Her lieutenant's soft, high voice drifted in, overly formal as always. "One of the men watching the wizard's house has returned."
One of the men. She had sent a proper band to watch the place, they should have been able to deal with anything they ran across. A week ago, one of her men had overheard the sage's wife ordering goods from the capital. Silks, spices, things of luxury that the young sage heaped upon his pretty bride. It was too tempting a target not to try for, despite what she knew of the wizard's home. So for the last week she'd had men watching the place, with orders to intercept the shipment. What could possibly have gone wrong?
"I'll be right out." Zara's response was gruff, and she tugged a tunic and snug pair of leggings on. It wasn't long before she stepped out beside her lieutenant.
Cordelia was her name, and where Zara was taller than most of the local men, and as strong as any of them, her lieutenant was a delicate flower of a girl, at least if one got past the blades. Ever formal, Cordelia clad herself in finely tailored black clothes when she wasn't wearing her dyed black leathers. Her shock of short red hair was kept trimmed close, and she usually wore a scarf of black silk to hide features that were too fine, too noble for a proper bandit. Her enchanted daggers were sheathed at either hip, never far from her reach.
She was from the capital, that much Zara knew, but hadn't bothered to press for more information. The little scrapper was deadly with her blades, and had saved her life innumerable times since their meeting. Cordelia was, in Zara's estimation, the most loyal of her band without question.
Cordelia held one of Zara's own swords ready for her when the blonde bandit queen finally did exit her tent. Zara snatched it away, and belted it about her waist as she sauntered out.
The rest of her men, and the vast majority were indeed men, had fallen quiet, and stood staring at one of the bandits assigned to watch the sage's house. By coincidence, it was another of the few women in her band, a girl by the name of Kat. She looked winded, her own mask tugged down, her hood cast back to let her dark hair fall in a tangled mass past her shoulders.
"Blade," like many of her fellows, Kat preferred not to use the titles Cordelia had assigned Zara. "Bad news. The others, they're dead."
Zara tensed, her jaw set and her hands fisted. She was confused, and confusion always made her angry. "What? How? Were you done in by simple merchant guards?"
"N-no. There were three men, two on horses, one on foot. In the dark, we couldn't make them out too well. We never really had a chance to determine whether they were a threat or even the ones that we were waiting for. They noticed us, and we were forced to spring the ambush early.
"One of them was the smith's apprentice, Hafred, but the other two, they were armored and armed. One was clad in blackened mail, older and with dark, shaggy hair. The other was younger, more lightly armored, but it had to be enchanted, for I saw a shot that was dead set bounce off the very air. His sword glowed in the night as well. I heard them call him Prince, and Your Majesty."
Zara's blood ran cold for a moment, and her eyes widened. "T..the Prince? Here?"
Before she could ask more, however, Cordelia stepped forward. She demanded in a cold tone, "The older man with the Prince, describe him."
"W-well it was dark, and-"
"I said," Zara's lieutenant spoke with an uncharacteristic harshness, "Describe him."
Kat did her best to describe what she had seen of the man, and it seemed to satisfy Cordelia, who simply nodded grimly.
"Black Dog Rufus, second in command of the King's Men and personal bodyguard of Prince Cantrol. You're lucky to get away alive. He's a hero of the realm and a devastating warrior."
Zara's brows raised as she watched Cordelia's reactions to the news. "You seem to know quite a bit about him."
"Let's just say that we have a great deal of history. Lady Blade, if the Prince is in the area, it means that at least some of the King's Men will be with him. Do you think that we have been found out?"
The Bandit Queen thought, for just a moment, then shook her head. "There's no reason they should be seeking us. And if they're seeking help from the sage, their business must be more important than mere bandits." A slow smile spread across her lips, "Perhaps much, much more important." She waved Kat away, "Go rest, get any wounds tended to."
As the woman ran off to join the others, Cordelia stepped in toward Zara. Her own voice fell to a bare murmur, "I don't like that smile, Lady Blade. What are you thinking?"
"I'm wondering, my dear, whether a Prince's ransom could be held in one wagon, or two?"
Her words obviously irritated the lieutenant, for a dark cloud crossed Cordelia's features. "You can't, my Lady. I beg of you, it's too risky."
"Do you doubt my skill, Cordelia?" The blonde turned to regard the shorter woman, who just shook her head.