The day after Ashely decided to move defensively, Commander Hagan was able to capture some bandits that were sheltering from the rain. Using tactics that he refused to elaborate on, he was able to find out why the caravan was being targeted. Unfortunately, having learned the reason did not change the situation. The caravan could not get rid of the sword, and even if they could, they had no way to tell the bandits they no longer had it.

  “The seventh wagon is stuck! Bring the extra horses here!”

  “Make sure not to break the wagon!”

  “Stop pushing like that! You’re getting mud everywhere!”

  Hearing the frustrated shouts bounce around her caravan, Ashely ran about, yelling out orders to the wet and miserable men who were knee-deep in mud.

  “Don’t stand there! If the wagon pulls free unexpectedly, it’s going to crush you! We need more men!”

  “Lady Ashely! We don’t have any more men!”

  Wiping the rain from her face, Ashely cursed to herself. Earth Mother, help me! Jumping off Eclipse, she struggled over to the seventh wagon. With half of the guards keeping a defensive formation, the number of free men had become problematic.

  “Master Norm, help me hitch Eclipse to the wagon!”

  “Yes, My Lady. Thank you, My Lady.”

  Handing Eclipse’s reins to the wagon leader, she took a breath of the muggy air. Her lungs felt heavy. “This cursed fog,” she hissed.

  “Did you say something, My Lady?”

  “No. Is Eclipse hitched?”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  Clearing her throat, she turned to the men who were gathered around the wagon’s back. “On my mark! I want everyone to push!”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  Lifting her arm above her head, she loudly counted to three before swinging her arm down. “One! Two! Three! PUSH!”

  With an audible groan accompanied by the sounds of cracking whips, the wagon slowly started to move, leaving a deep groove in the muddy road.

  “One more push!”

  “PUSH!”

  With a final grunt, the wagon rolled free, followed by the happy shouts of the men.

  Hearing the excited shouts fill the air around her, Ashely could not help but smile. Even though the situation was bad, every victory made her feel triumphant.

  “Well done. All of you!”

  Before the happy smiles could be washed away by the rain, a new and more urgent voice cut through the noise.

  “Enemy attack! From the west.”

  Under normal situations, this news would have caused the caravan to jump into action, moving the wagons into defensible positions, readying up for a fight. But with the constant attacks, rain, and mud, the men were slow on the uptake, looking around them with wide, unfocused eyes. Seeing the hesitation in the men's movements, Ashely started to scream orders.

  “Move the wagons into small groups! I want all of you to arm yourselves. If you are not moving the wagons, group up with the people around you! I want all groups to keep their backs to the wagons! Don't let them flank you. Our primary concern is defensive! Do not chase or fight without your group. Wait for Commander Hagan and the guards to take care of the bandits!”

  Ashely’s words seemed to pull the men out of the haze, each person starting to move, determination written on their face. Nodding in satisfaction, she waved the men around her to gather up.

  “We move the wagon we just freed over to that group,” she commanded, pointing to a couple of the wagons clustered together. The golden canvas covering them had turned dark from the water and mud.

  “Yes, my Lady,” a large gruff man answered. He had water droplets clinging to his massive beard. “You heard the Lady! Move! Move!”

  Smiling down at her, the large man introduced himself to her.

  “My name’s Griff. I've been working for your father for over twenty years. If you ever find yourself in need of a loud voice, I’m your man!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Griff,” Ashely answered, feeling a kind warmth from his smile. “A loud voice is always welcome in this situation. Now, let’s go to the wagons.”

  As the two of them hurriedly made their way to the wagons, a lone scout came running up to them. The man was breathing heavily, the rain leaving streaks of mud and blood down his body.

  “My Lady, I bring word from Commander Hagan. The bandits are much more organized this time and are attacking with the largest force so far. He requests you to gather a group of guards and head to the nearest city. Without the caravan—even in this rain, you should be able to reach the city by tomorrow morning.”

  “Commander Hagan wants me to leave the caravan and run?” Ashely demanded, feeling anger and humiliation. How dare the man!

  “Yes, My Lady, your life is worth more than this caravan,” the scout replied. “Once we beat back the bandits, we will meet you at the city.”

  “He’s right, my Lady,” Griff cut in before she could speak. “If you die, the future of your House will be in jeopardy, and every one of us relies on it to keep our families fed. You are more important than any one of us.”

  Seeing the serious expression on the faces of the scout and men around her, Ashely bit her lip in frustration, her stomach clenching into tight knots.

  “I cannot run! If I do, it will affect my family's reputation,” she finally spat, the taste of iron in her mouth snapping her out of her panic.

  Merchants had a reputation of having no honor, but that was something she had hoped to change. Running away during her first time leading the Golden Caravan would severely affect her standing amongst the Merchant Guild members.

  “I cannot take a group of guards with me! the caravan would lose a portion of its strength. Running away is not an option.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “My Lady, you need to go. Let us handle the bandits,” Griff pleaded. “By remaining here, you are making it harder for us to fight. We cannot fight to our fullest if we are worried about you. Please leave and allow us to protect ourselves without being burdened by you.”

  Hearing the large man's words, Ashely’s mind stopped briefly. She had not realized the predicament she was putting them in. Clutching her hands tightly, she tried to weigh the pros and cons of her staying. If I don’t leave, the men will not be able to fight to their full potential, but if I do, they will have fewer guards. Maybe I can take only one or two guards with me?

  Having spent a couple of seconds in deep thought, she reluctantly nodded. “Eclipse is hooked to the wagon over there. Let me go get him.”

  “Thank you, My Lady.”

  Wading through the knee-high mud, Ashely made her way to her horse, closely followed by her men. By the time she had reached Eclipse, the sounds of battle could be heard all around them drowning out the sound of the rain.

  “How did they get past the guards so fast?” she yelled, stopping and turning around.

  “I don't know, My Lady! They must be familiar with the territory,” the scout shouted, his face pale. “Watch out! They’re everywhere!”

  Seeing groups of bandits running within the caravan, Ashely drew her sword. Internally, she started cursing at herself. If I had just made up my mind, I would have been able to get to Eclipse or form a proper defensive formation. Now, I’ve lost both options.

  “Everyone, group up! Backs against each other. We slowly move to the wagon,” she shouted. Her sword's wet handle felt heavy in her arms. “Watch your footing! Don't slip on the mud! If you do, you will die!”

  Shouting orders at her men, she made her way to the wagon, back-to-back with her small group. Reaching it, she did a quick head count.

  Counting her, there were five. Among them, only the scout and Ashely held actual weapons. Griff had grabbed a large branch from the ground while Norm and the last man clutched small knives.

  “The two of you!” she said, pointing to Norm and the last man. “Go into the wagon and bring out anything that can be used as a weapon or a shield! Now!”

  “Yes, My Lady!”

  As the two men hurried into the wagon, Ashely held her sword at the ready. Thank the Goddess, Zenrom taught me how to hold a sword, she thought. I would have looked like a right fool if he didn’t.

  “My Lady, stay behind me,” Griff grunted as he walked in front of her.

  “Thank you. I will try to support you.”

  As Ashely and her men stood at the ready, swarms of armed men ran wild around the caravan like crazed animals, screaming and attacking everything in sight, their mud-caked bodies making them look like beasts. The exhausted caravan guards met them with disciplined determination, but they were tired, fumbling constantly as they fought back.

  Sneaking past the guards, a group of four bandits charged at Ashely’s group, each man howling in glee, spit flying from their faces. Their toothy grins looked inhuman to Ashley.

  As the first man came into striking range, Griff gave a mighty roar as he swung the large branch at the man. Seeing the branch come crashing down, the bandit raised his chipped sword in dismay, his face twisted in horror. The act was futile as the impact from the branch drove both the sword and branch into his neck.

  Tossing the splintered branch aside, Griff shouted as he tackled a second man, sending them both sprawling into the mud.

  “Fight together!” Ashely shouted as she ran to Griff. Her sword was pointed at the bandit, but she could not help—the men were rolling around too much.

  “My Lady, watch out!”

  Swinging her sword around, she saw the two remaining bandits charging at her.

  Sprinting in front of her, the scout tossed his wet cloak at one of the bandits. As the bandit’s vision became obscured, the scout stepped to the side, running the man through with his sword. Spinning around, he dove at the legs of the last bandit.

  Ashely watched as the last bandit came crashing down, his legs tangled by the scout. Moving on pure survival instinct, she ran up to the fallen bandit. Switching her grip on her sword into a reverse grip, she thrust down on the man, piercing his chest.

  As her sword stabbed down, Ashely felt her blade stop. Panicking, she threw her whole body down on the sword's handle, the abrupt change in weight causing her sword to drive through the man and into the ground. Crawling back from the pinned man, she looked over at Griff. The large man had gotten the upper hand on the bandit and was drowning him in the mud. Within moments, the struggle ended, the bandit’s body no longer moving.

  Hearing noise behind her, Ashely looked back. Norm and the last men had emerged from the wagon. The wagon leader held a makeshift spear made from his knife and a wooden stick, while the other man carried a hunting bow.

  “They’re coming again!” the scout’s voice pulled Ashely back to the fight. Scrambling over to her sword, she started pulling on it with all her might, stumbling backwards as it slid free.

  “My Lady! Get into position!” Griff yelled as he rushed up to her, steadying her balance.

  “We will fight with our backs to the wagon!” Ashely panted, glancing at Griff and gesturing to a bandit’s sword. “Griff, you will take the center this time—fight as a group. I will be on your right. Master Norm,” she said, pointing at the wagon leader. “You will take his left. And you,” she pointed to the man with the bow. “You will support us from the back.”

  Turning to the scout, she asked. “Can you flank the bandits that come to us?”

  “That’s my specialty!”

  “Good, now everyone in position.”

  The five of them quickly stood with their backs to the wagon, the rain obscuring their ability to see far. In no time at all, a second group of bandits stumbled across them, their excited screams of delight clashing with the violence that was happening all around them.

  Using the sword he had picked up, Griff met the bandits in combat, Ashely and Norm on each side of him. Using the threat of her sword, Ashely kept the bandits at bay, the occasional twang of the bow sending a deadly arrow flying into a bandit. Seeing the scout melt in and out of battle like a vengeful spirit, she could not help but feel hope. They were holding!

  Grinning from ear to ear, she could not believe how well the balance and coordination of their group was. After clashing with them for a moment, most of the bandits decided to flee.

  Squinting into the rain, Ashely strained her eyes, looking for the next group of bandits. Spotting a lone man walking quickly in their direction, she frowned.

  “We have a lone bandit coming!” the man with the bow announced, pointlessly wiping the rain from his face. He had an arrow notched in place.

  Ashely watched as the man walked closer and closer to them, his piercing, ice-cold blue eyes almost glowing in the fog. The more she studied him, the more she felt that something was wrong. The way he walked reminded her of the way that Zenrom or Commander Hagan walked, but she was not able to determine why.

  “Something doesn't feel right,” she whispered, trying in vain to figure out what was bothering her.

  In no time at all, the lone bandit had closed the distance between them, his light steps never slowing. Obsessing on the way he walked, Ashely gasped audibly as she realized what she was seeing, the blood draining from her face. He was walking much too quickly for the amount of mud on the ground! Only someone who could control Aether to a high degree could do something like that. Someone like an Arcane Lord!

  “Arcane Lord!” she shouted, her face pale.

  The words from Ashely shook her group like a baby hearing thunder, panic and fear instantly washing over them. It was common knowledge that average soldiers couldn’t take down an Arcane Warrior, much less an Arcane Lord. Breaking under the stress of facing an Arcane Lord, Norm’s legs gave out, his body sinking to the ground.

  Ashely felt as if time had started to slow down, her mind perceiving what was going on around her almost as if it were a dream. Slowly, she watched as Griff turned to her, shouting at her to leave, his arms slowly waving her on. As his words sluggishly entered her mind, she tried to decipher them, the cogs in her mind spinning at half speed. As she struggled, she heard the twang of a bow from behind her as the man with the bow shot, his arrow flying towards the Arcane Lord.

  Tracing the arrow’s flight with her eyes, Ashely watched as the blue-eyed man casually plucked it out of the air, his hand gripping then snapping the arrow.

  Time came rushing back with a bang, the sound of rain and screams filling the surroundings. Ashely felt the man with the bow pull her hand as he dragged her along. His stiff body was trying to get them as far from the Arcane Lord as possible.

  Running aimlessly in panic, Ashely heard Griff roar behind her before his mighty voice ended abruptly. Stumbling as fast as she could in the mud, she felt her foot slip, the slick surface causing her to go sprawling onto her stomach. Tasting mud in her mouth, she scrambled to her feet just in time to see the Arcane Lord decapitate the man who had pulled her along.

  “Stay back!” she screamed, realizing suddenly that she did not remember when she had lost her sword.

  Calmly stopping where he had killed the man, the Arcane Lord scrunched his face in a curious expression, looking at Ashely in thought.

  Before Ashely could do anything else, she saw him blur before appearing next to her—he had closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. The last thing she saw before darkness took her was the dark rainy sky as she lost consciousness.