Free Writing # 2b

        Sir Lawlend crouched down in the brush as he caught sight of the slavers. There were a lot of them, at least thirty. He reached down and placed his hand on his sword as the muttered words of a prayer arrived at his ears.

        “Are you sure about this?” Sir Lawlend asked the muttering voice. “There are more of them than I’d thought, and your soothsayer claims one of them is a wizard.”

        “Yes, the plan will work.” The voice answered. “Just get their attention off of the slaves and it’ll be fine.”

        “Did your soothsayer tell you that as well Arron?” Lawlend snorted.

        “No, I’m telling you that.” He paused, “Although, it looks like he was right about the wizard, check out the cage.”

        Lawlend looked over where Arron indicated and saw a cage being pulled on a wagon. In the cage, the knight could make out five, maybe six, very pale figures.

        “I don’t understand.” Lawlend whispered.

        “Those are elves,” Arron explained. “The only way so few men could kidnap elves has to be by using magic.” An owl’s hoot passed through the air. “That’s the signal, get ready.” Sir Lawlend grasped his sword, and leaned forward onto the balls of his feet. Arron hefted his spear in his hand and raised his shield.

        The slavers drew level with the hidden liberators and shouts sounded along the path. The slavers line surged to one side. Flame lit up a tree as liberators scrambled for cover. Lawlend bellowed as he quelled a slaver, and charged bravely as only knights knew how to do. His sword deftly blocked a mace. His fist cleared the way forward. His chainmail absorbed the impact of the wizard’s arcane blast which knocked him and Arron back against the trees.

        Unseen, emerging from the trees opposite the liberators came six figures in hooded cloaks. They were seen by a slaver who was near the cage. An arrow ended his sight as he caught the first glimpse. A knife in the back felled another guard. A garrote met the third as a bulky arm crushed the fourth’s neck. The figure with a bow drew alongside the cage and, in elvish, spoke words to calm and comfort them. A second figure drew up to the cage and began to fiddle with the lock. After a moment, he had the lock open and the door opened with a creak. One of the slavers, who wore a robe embroidered with runes, turned sharply toward the cage, until an arrow burrowed into her back. Once the arrow met its mark, the flames in the trees died out.

        A sharp eyed lookout in the trees saw five pale figured leave the cage wrapped in green and grey cloaks. The lookout also saw six hooded figures take defensive positions around them and slink back into the trees. He lifted a whistle to his lips. A piercing note broke through the ruckus of the skirmish. The liberators retreated back into the darkness as suddenly as they had arrived.