The Elder's Dagger

The Raid

The anxious audience felt certain again they had heard this before.

Once the village was found, a burst of flames came just before the sun completely was taken down. The glorious raiding party had torched the village; how i wish to have been there.

The villagers who were about to contact the spirit world in their slumber were woken by a second sun.

The warriors ran down those who left the impaled logs that pass as a pallisade in that retarded village! The rest burned trapped in their own homes and defences.

Leaving the blazing village in ruins the mighty defenders of justice left, they would get the riches and stolen goods tomorrow. For the sun had gone and the moon stalked the woods and grassy plains.

But the horsemen were not out of the woods yet, in fact they went deeper, deeper into the spiritual wall that divided the 2 tribes. Night had settled and the ten mighty horsemen came together to form a spear formation; but the woods stopped this. Trees appeared out of the dark and the horses almost hit them. The horses while trained were still feral at heart. Training can only do so much to an animal, it can only make the skin look clean and refined, but never has the human touch penetrated to the heart powerfully enough to cause an animal to be "tamed" like it has been said to have been done in the east. Only the dog has ever got close to this much sort after the state of "tamed". All animals are the messengers of the Gods. They can not betray the Gods for fallible mortals, it is against their very divine duty as guards against the corrupt.

One of the horses failed to yield to its rider after colliding with a tree the. It did not obey its rider;in fact it did worse; it started to back up and neigh. Standing on its hindlegs trying to make the rider fall it succeeded. Trampling the rider before striding off the dead rider and the now wild horse were nowhere to be seen. After rescuing the dead riders' belongings the rest set off. They did not bother to form up, it was useless anyway there was no way anyone could charge them in this dense part of the woods, the trees would protect them, emerge in the way of the agresser.

Although maybe the trees were not with us as they let the surviving Stone Men of the village rode on the branches of the tree and aimed their slings right at the riders. A dozen stones swirled through the trees and a few horses fell over and riders crushed or the rider was shot clean off and the beast ran off. The broken bones cracked in the silent woods.

Later when the moon was at its apex like a wolf on the hunt, the surviving four riders returned. One died the next day, a stone hit the tree next to him and the splinters pierced his face and arms, his wounds were infected and numerous.Unlike his other dead comrades he had the reassurance as he looked at the rest of the village, holding the hand of his woman.

The horses, painful as it had to all be put down, they had seen too much to be safe to ride again.

A captivated audience one again looked at the elder in surprise; they never realised the struggles of the riders.

In the morning we all set out. We were in a tight group. One wrong step and one of us could have ended up with a broken skull. Thankfully our hunters picked off the survivors that hid in the trees.

When we got to the smouldering village we scavenged through the rubble taking broaches and salt. A lot of the sacks had burnt but luckily we were able to sweep it all up into our own bags. We almost forgot the reason for our battle; grain.

We were told by one of the prisoners that the granary was made of stone and had one of the finest oak doors any man has set eyes on. It was a circular structure made entirely out of stone except for the door and half the roof. It was obviously the pride of the tribe, at the centre it stood over the huts and shacks. I remember being lucky to break down this glorious door. Taking out a hammer I brought from the village I smashed it on the door. Majestic splinters sprayed out of the oak wood. The decorations warped under the power of the hammer. I finally broke through and my eyes burst with visions of sacks on sacks of grain piled high to the roof. Shaking my head I realised; it's real. Like pigs we scampered and took all the sacks and piled them on our shoulders. Finally as the sun started to rise over the cold misty ground we headed back.

The grain stores were full for the first time anyone could remember; in fact the tribe must have stolen food from other people for it could not all be ours. Some of the food was unable to be stored because we did not have a big enough hut; some of it had to be "changed".

We dragged our prize to the gates of the village; to the screams of the women and children around us, for we protected our village from the jaws of winter. Although we waited two months before we dared to celebrate. We moaned and wailed to the heavens; we screamed and cried. We wailed and wept.