Chapter 2 - Ride of the Red Wolves

Magan nods, clearly disappointed. "A shame. I feel bad for him. And Bletius knows more than we do of the enemy, and he felt he was important for this task."   He bites his lip and scowls. "I was too self consumed. I should have asked in the druids. Maybe I am unfit to lead. You must help me my friend, that I do not appear weak to the others."

Goewyn spends much of the night alone, staring into the flames of a small fire while the recently freed slaves enjoy their newfound freedoms once more. Her sleep does not come easy, well into the darkness of the night long after the others have found their rest before it comes for her. Her sleep is fitful and dreams troubled as they are filled it strange visions that fill her with dread, but upon waking she is left with nothing more than a feeling of disappointment at the empty spot next to her furs. Being one of the first to rise, she departs into the forest to acquire some food for the first meal, finding several wild berry bushes and wild herbs. She sets up a few traps and is able to snare a few hare that she returns with to see Magan and Gawen in deep conversation. She holds up the brace for them before she sets about skinning the beasts.

A little less than an hour later, the pale limestone architecture of Aquae Sulis's old Roman buildings rear up ahead of the caravan. Many of the former slaves eye them with fear or suspicion.

"We move around the edge of the town. Do not linger or get left behind." Magan calls out the instructions clearly and does not slow his column.

The track north around the edge of town eventually runs up against the banks of the river Avon. The river is too deep and wide to ford, and the nearest bridge is on the road through the heart of town.

Magan gives a sigh before leading the group towards the city, keeping the pace as quick as he can without starting to spread the group thin. He is acutely aware of being in the Saxon lands and pulls his hood further over his head, avoiding the gaze of any of the more wealthy citizens they may pass. He takes Isolde from the wagon to have her ride with him, but also to distract from his own identity. He points things out to her as they pass, also keeping another eye on Theli, riding to his side.

Kara stays towards the back, acting more as a outrider during this portion of the journey. Recent events have shown she needed more training, and based on her talks with Magan, they were on the way towards them. She thought it strange he would cover his face so in the brief moments when she sees him, but figured he had his own reasons, or perhaps it was some strange custom to this lands. It was still a bit foreign to her, but nonetheless, she would help provide some security for those on the outside, for she clearly did not look like some one to mess with.

Gann did not remember much of the rest of yesterday. It was all a blur. He remembered observing some of the men stretching their sore bodies with the newfound blades and making sure none hoarded more than others, but Guthric was right it was not the right time and he felt too weary to do more. He remembered he confirmed with those on watch they knew the perimeter and then strode back to the carriage. He remembers taking down the heavy armor and checking it for damage or blemishes, tracing a distinct chipped line where it had saved his shoulderblade from a deep cut that could have disabled his arm for good. He frowned back then and thought it was a loss of value, though it saved a life. Then he remembered nothing. For when others may have come to share food with him, they would have found him deep asleep by a wheel of the carriage. Gann woke up early with the movement of slaves, snapping to attention with a hand gripped hard on the hilt. He was going to get used to that, being among many people. He stood up and put back the brushed-clean armor where it belonged in the carriage, taking the lighter and well-maintained leather jacket instead and checking its fit as he slowly put it on, observing the half-asleep camp. Then he took for the wood and searched for a place to start his early practice without alerting anyone. To his luck, his foot felt stable and responsive as he remembered it before the worms tried to claim him. He snapped through learned stances, twisting the blade with the strength of his wrist between a one-hand and two-handed grip with a swirl of momentum, finishing with a twist and a thrust. His mind built a field of skirmish and his imagination made enemies armed with spear and blade, he snapped from cautious distance to a desperate assault, creating an opening that would send his senses through taken pain but the enemy would find itself crushed in a bear trap, butchered from stomach to groin. Then he twisted, memories of taking a blow in the flank allowed him to roll with the imaginary damage and spread his attack to keeps both at bay. Then he made up the third one and his movements became chaotic, changing between targets that were not there in a blur. Each time he missed, he punched or kicked or shoved like a wildman. He took blows that created openings or made openings that were meant to turn into killing blows. Half an hour later as the dawn bloomed red Gann returned to the camp soaked but alive, wheezing with an open jaw. When the caravan of the freed slaves took off and soon the pale remains of Aquae Sulis could be seen in the distance, Gann rode silently among the slaves, idly listening to their conversations and making sure few lagged behind. He took time to learn a few more names, and to exchange some stories with the men. He only moved close to Glöyn so he could read her face after the last day had left her hopes unanswered. Few words were right to the moment, he had his oath and his mind made and was all that mattered. When Gann notices Magan hood himself as they draw near and he instinctively knows to avoid attention. Bath would not compare to Caer Odor but it was a busy place and he never forgot who he was in the eyes of strangers.

The caravan draws plenty of attention as it rolls through town, some curious, some fearful. It appears to be a market day in the heart of Aquae Sulis and Goewyn notices one wealthily dressed man staring at the wagons with hard eyes from amongst his guards as the Red Wolves pass him by.

Guthric found it hard to stay in one place on the morning following victory. He woke with the dawn, a bottle clenched in a hand and another nearby. Fang and Claw were nuzzled up against him and stirred as well. The three wandered to the woods, relieved themselves, then snuck off. Within an hour, they returned with a rabbit and two squirrels. Not much, but it could be boiled to a broth and spread around with bread well enough. After his contribution and preparations were complete, he mounted and set off near the rear of the column. Leaders,  he thought, must ensure no one is left behind.   Throughout the morning, while others calming trotted along on their mounts or rode on wagons, the Pict was often seen riding up and down the column with his hounds close at hand. He would start at the rear, talk for a bit, ride halfway up, talk some more, meet Magan and Gawen up front to check in, the make his way back to the rear between conversations. Despite his cultural and language differences, he met very little apprehension. Everyone seemed generally friendly, and a few even asked anout his dogs. By the time they reached Aquae Sulis, he'd chatted up just over a half-dozen of their new band. In his mind, he was also sizing them up for potential hunters and outriders.

Most of the rescued slaves seem to be former farmers or crafters, but many show interests or talents that could be developed given time and opportunity. Another half hour passes as the wagons roll north through town, over the river and between the ailing roman buildings until they pass beyond and into the wilds once more.

As they pass through Aquae Sulis, Goewyn spots the alderman watching the band with dark eyes. She watches him and his men until they were well passed before she rides up to Magan. “There was a man back in there, an alderman by the looks of him, who gave us a dark look. We should watch our backs and set a watch during the nights. I did not like his eyes.”  She rides quietly for a moment then looks at the leader of the Red Wolves. “Magan, I... feel I need to tell you about a falsehood I have said. My name is not Glöyn, it is Goewyn. Glöyn was what my father used to call me... and it was the name I used while chasing the slavers. I feared to use my birth name for worries of someone coming back after Gruffyd and I after I rescued him.”

Magan nods. "I saw him too. Somebody was expecting delivery of the wagons and we should expect them to try to claim them. It is partly why I had wanted to avoid the town." He laughs cheerfully as she mentions her name. "Oh, you worry too much. You think Magan is my real name?" He looks seriously at her for a moment. "We all have people we used to be. This is not an easy life we have chosen. Some of us want to forget who we were and some of us want to preserve it so that there is something to go back to. Or at least, that is how I used to feel. Now, I have come to realise none of it matters, who we were. What we do now matters more than any of it." There is a zealous fire in his eyes. The joy of a man who has found a true, divine purpose. "To serve the gods under any name. It is more than any of us could have asked for, even those of us who left our old lives to save another's."  He gives her a pat on the shoulder. "Now, keep alert, as you said, we should not expect to get far from here without a fight, it will do them good though." He nods at the trail of liberated slaves behind them. "Keep it real, they cannot feel this road will be without hardship."

The rest of the day passes in relative peace. The sky is grey and the tone subdued as the train of wagons and liberated slaves trudge north up the western side of the hilllands. Fretherne should be only one more day's march north.

During the short resting periods, Kara would check on people, healing a few minors wounds, and explaining how it was Freya's glory and power that allowed such feats. Afterwards, she would take any of the women who wanted to practice movement as a group, and fighting with each other. While Magan and the rest knew of shield walls, it was her peoples technique, and often times was how her female cousins fought. She even points outs " Very few of us can fight even the youngest boy here one on one. Thus we try to make it two or more of us versus them. The men can fight as a single, but we must be one group."  The lessons where simple and used the spare gear they had, as it was much more practical to practice proper footwork before worrying over proper gear.

As the evening draws to a close and watches are set, Goewyn sets up a spot for herself before she takes her watch with the north-woman, Kara. Their lack of a communal language made talking difficult but not impossible. Sometime during the night Goewyn hears an owl hooting, but something about it seemed wrong. She pauses tensely and listens more closely. Again she hears the hoot, but this time she was prepared and knew exactly what it was; she used the same call to alert Gruffyd in the dark of danger. “Kara, wake the others. There is someone out there calling to each other, masking themselves as night creatures.” Without another word, she takes her bow and slips into the darkness and out of the corona of firelight...

At the foot of a large tree, just out of bowshot of the camp, Goewyn finds a set of tracks leading south.

Goewyn spots the tracks and checks the area around her for additional signs before heading back into camp. She immediately seeks out Magan and explains the situation. "Someone is stalking our party. I found tracks leading south just outside of bowshot. I can show you."

Magan stirs quickly and nods. Grabbing his shield and axes and making sure Kara is still on lookout he follows Goewyn into the trees.

Kara nods to Magan "You stay careful. I can lead warriors, not people. I shall tend to our flock, and guide them as Freya sees best in your absence."  She then goes back to patrolling while the others slip out, however she would wake a few who seemed able to care for themselves in a fight just in case the ploy was to separate and divide their forces.

With Magan's help, Goewyn quickly follows the path a few hundred feet back through the woods. The tracks indicate a rendezvous with a second person, before both mount up, heading further south on horseback.

"Do we go after them? Or let them come back to us? I can try to hide our tracks, but for this many people and the wagons it will be a challenge."  Magan wraps his fingers in his beard as he thinks. "Tomorrow we must at least screen our movements more. people at front and rear. I do not wish to be ambushed."

Goewyn shakes her head at the suggestion. "They have a lead on us that we will not be able to regain. I suggest we wake the others and move out now. We are at disadvantage that they know where we are, but we know nothing about them. I agree, we would do our best to cover our trail. Perhaps we should disguise these carts somehow, for someone who knows what they look like we stand out. It is likely that man who was watching us in the town. Perhaps he has some connection with the slavers." She examines the tracks once more. "I would imagine these men will watch us for a time to report our location until enough warriors can be gathered for an assault. Perhaps we can set a trap for them. With your permission, I will stalk our party at a distance and walk in the places that these men likely will be. If I see them, shall I kill them?"

Magan nods. "But at no risk to yourself. Do not get yourself killed being the hero, you are of more use alive even if there are 5 hunters on our tail, than dead taking one with you." He leads the way back to camp "We should not wake them now though, they need rest. We travel fast, they will not be able to gain on us if they have gone all the way back to the town. They would have to ride all night to even catch us tomorrow. We travel directly too, so they have no way to warn the camp that we are coming. It is an ambush tomorrow night that I fear."

The rest of the night passes quietly and, come morning, the birds are singing as the travellers rise from their bedrolls to breakfast and start the day. The larger party goes through food fast. A hunt will be necessary this morning.

Gann rode silently for most of the day and when the sun leaned to rest, he took the time to help set camp while testing his foot for a steady brace and silently whispered a prayer of gratitude. Few exchanges with some of the released warriors had met dry responses, and Gann felt his first limp impression from the last day had rooted already but he didn't dwell on this. There were things far more important.  Granted his first restful sleep that had not to choke him like an assassin from the shadows, he still escaped it like a lashed animal when he heard voices. After a moment to gather what was going on, he had approached Magan and Glöyn but kept quiet and wary for the sounds she had heard. There was nothing he could do or hear more, other than stay with Gawen on his watch. They spoke some between long drawn silence, and Gann mostly listened and nodded back. His long absence from civilization had already impaired his ability to hold a hearty conversation and too often he found himself with little to say. When his watch was over, he lay down but wait for the dawn to eventually come. 

Goewyn nods to Magan. "Agreed. I shall watch and report only. I will check in with the sound of a magpie once an hour if all is clear." She imitates the distinct sound of the avian species. "If I come across any spies or see an ambush I shall make the sound of a crow to alert you all. If you hear that, know that there is immediate danger." With that they retire to the camp and finish the watch. The following morning Goewyn gathers her gear and eats a simple breakfast before taking some of the group's water to mix into the earth to form a muddy paste which she begins to smear over her face and hands. "To help me hide." She says to any that give her a strange look. "Flesh is the first thing a scout will spot as it stands out against the colors of the woods."

Gann observed the others eagerly prepare for the hunt with idle curiosity. He felt enticed to rummage in the carriage for a bow and arrows and join them but he knew it was a folly of camaraderie and he would only weight on them. He felt the morning stiff deep in his bones and he needed to stretch with his blade. He fastened the leather breastplate and headed for the group of men who were slowly gathering together for the new day.  Gann had not prepared a speech, looking for words came hard to him so he just let actions speak for themselves. He gathered those that stayed around, broke them into two groups of six, and then he drew a circle between them. Gann approached a few of the able warriors and picked Hrothgar and Sigbert among them for a spar. They circled around him and attacked in order, for this was meant be something the other men could follow and accommodate to the sight and smell of combat. It wasn't meant to be all child's play, and Gann's swift parrying and retaliatory blows soon drew ire from Sigbert and his attacks became more savage and thirsting blood. Gann saw himself in that man, all covered with mud and furs at the blade school, a cur used to train others the fine skill of capturing a pict. Gann put his strength to meet Sigbert's last assault but then he stepped back and lowered his seax, then extended his hand to both of them. Gann was breathing heavily with a whistling wheeze when the addressed the men, reading in their gaze their eagerness. Not all, but some had that spark. He hadn't expected this many. "Ei will not have such a clean fight when your life and the life of the man right of you depend on your one steady arm," He told them. "You will fight like animals because you were once caged as one and that beast in you shall seek vengeance on your enemy with jaws and claws if it must. You shall not be spared but you shall not spare, and you will break knee and tear eye but you will fight with purpose The breath of the wind and the spirits shall guide your blade and grant you the honor as free men. Ei will teach you how." He paused to capture his breath. His nostrils no longer serving him made him struggle with speeches. "That is your life now."  He asked everybody to get armed and break them into groups of three with one able warrior and two willing to learn. He walked among the groups, demonstrating along with their group veteran and observing how each group worked together. He felt these men have come from all walks of life but the heft of the blade should unite them. Some groups worked, others grew weary of the weaker ceorls but Gann had the patience and he worked where other warriors wouldn't. He went through defensive routine first, the basics of strikes and follow-ups, and how to swiftly strike weak points to disengage, the required step work. He pushed hard against those that showed to learned faster, for he had no time to spare. For all he knew, they might have to prove their mettle before the next moon. But he was going to make the best of them, and most importantly, make the best of them together. As the drill came close to noon and they were all glistening and panting, he had the groups pair among themselves and show off what they had learned, the students awkwardly got accustomed to fair competition while the experienced men gave them sharp remarks of encouragement. Every man knew the name of the man right to him, and every man knew the man who bested him and who he might depend on. When all were tired and the last duel came to a close under a pour of loud voices and fair bets, he told them to take rest and looked up at the sky to tell the time past.

Magan meanwhile, takes Isolde into the wild once again to hunt. The girl had become used now to holding sacks for berries and game and enjoyed helping to pick from the plants and follow the trails of the animals. There were a lot of mouths to feed though so more time would have to be spent by more people in order to feed everyone and now with the added pressure that they were being followed and watched. As he brings down a deer and slings it over his shoulder, a string of birds and rabbits hanging from his belt, he heads back to the camp, Isolde's hand in his to see what his companions had to add to the pot.

While Gann and Magan were off seeking to the betterment of their bodies, one physically with strength and the other by way of food, Kara was left with little to do. She had awaken early, not having rested as easy as she would have liked, for there were task and places to be done and seen. After combing her hair out, which after these few days was beginning to grow longer than she was accustomed to, she would stretch and practice with Helgi, bringing herself closer in with the blade, and after having her moments of doubt in the previous battle, planned a new attack. "If calling Helgi brings her forth and then away, is it possible to use this power to gain an advantage in battle?"  With this idea in mind, Kara would swing while softly calling on Helgi, seeing if it was possible to flicker the blade while in combat. While it was a dazzling show, it also perhaps would either distract, or even lend a hand while fighting, as the sudden disappearance of the blade might off balance an opponent. Men did not tend to think logically after all. After a morning of practice alone, for Gann had taken over that day's training, Kara would then offer to the group spiritual guidance from Freya. While everyone had differing opinions, Kara was of no doubt that some of what the women talked about were Freya's different aspects, and it seems the stories of her fooling Loki were enjoyed by all. Kara would even show some of those interested in the runes in the book, spelling them out so perhaps she was not the only norse reader here.

Gann noticed Kara's unusual display only when he felt the men who had spent a whole hour repeating the same basic deflection until their hands felt numb and their wrists ache - save for those who had wielded hammer as their means of life - slowed to a crawl and stared mouths agape at walkyrie's own training at the other side of camp. Gann himself was taken back by the blur of Helgi, memories of the night at the druid circle still a bit too hazy. He quickly snapped the men back to their training with the help of the veterans, but then he overheard a man he remembered by the name Eadbert speak something with a grin on his face. Gann stepped so closer into his face that almost his disheveled beard brushed across the man's face. All he did is whisper a few words, then Eadbert went pale and returned to his training.

Goewyn looks at the assembled group, feeling once again very strange and isolated, despite being a part of these people. 'Is this why those hermits always seem so strange?' She had meet many shepherds in the mountains and hills of her homeland and they had always seemed very strange men. She checks her arrow supply to ensure she has enough in the event of an ambush before looking to Magan and the others. "You know what to listen for, I shall check in every now and again. If you hear my warning, prepare yourselves for an immediate ambush." She walks past Gann and stops to look at the large man. She shifts uncomfortably as if wanting to say something before placing a silent hand upon his shoulder briefly before darting off into the nearby wood line...

Gann was having a talk with Hrothgar who had shared his reserved assessment about the training when he felt the touch on his shoulder. He quickly turned and stared after Glöyn with an empty look, while the bald warrior got the message and withdrew. Found himself alone, Gann wiped the dry salt-sand off his wrinkled forehead and moved in the direction he saw her disappear among the trees.  Soon enough, his presence can be felt by the treeline. His feet rustle and crush the dry grass, and his soft wheezing breath is calm and reserved. He is silent and looking at Glöyn, trying to read what is on her mind rather than speak uninvited. 

Goewyn turns abruptly as she hears the crunch of leaves behind her, drawing her warseax in response to see Gann standing there watching her. "Gann, what...? I was just about to depart to scout for those that are hunting us." The mud on her face was starting to dry in places already, cracking slightly across her forehead as she wrinkles her forehead.

Gann frowns, having misjudged the message a moment ago. "Ei see. May the woodspirit grant you shadow to pass unseen, be safe and return soon." His prayer is as flexible as old aged oak. He nods awkwardly and turns to leave.

After a morning of hunting and training, the caravan finally begins to roll on north up the western edge of the Cotswold hills. It's slow going without good roads, but with a little effort bridging ruts and clearing overgrown portions of the track, they do steadily make progress. Goewyn ranges further afield, stalking the main group and watching from a distance. Sometimes she is atop a nearby rise, or hidden in the woods across a meadow, but never far or in sight. When the caravan eventually pauses for a midday meal, Goewyn is about to head back when she spots some suspicious shadows moving atop a hill to the east.

Goewyn smiles and nods at his blessing. She watches him as he turns to leave and she is torn by what to say... too long had she been away from others and she had forgotten how to do simple things like... “Gann, hold a moment!”  She approaches him and wraps her arms around his thick torso, it was one of the simple gestures she remembered from her mother and father, even her little brother. “Thank you.” She whispers quietly and before he could return the embrace, she darts away quickly and disappears into the tree line, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. That held felt too good, too much like her father... she had wanted to stay there in the safety of that hug... How could something so simple feel so good?!  She pushes all such thoughts from her mind as she focuses on the task at hand as she slips quietly away and her sharp eyes and ears catch everything.

Once again, Gann is taken by surprise. Though his life had most depended on reading the intentions of others, he had rarely experienced the simple acts of affection. He only has time to halfway back at the young woman before she bumps into his chest and he finds himself holding her in his arms. His smell is strong and pungent after a day of exertion, and below the leather jacket, his chest feels like rock bed heated in a summer afternoon. Gann returns the gesture although slow and awkward, and he keeps his thickset beard from rubbing off the coat of mud off her face. He takes a breath to say something but she is already running away, leaving just a fleeting memento of her touch. "Ei should be thanking you, for you found me when I was lost. You gave me a new life, " Gann speaks to the soft breeze that carries her away and scratches his bristly beard. "My oath to you is unfinished but holds strong as the first time spoken." Then the walks back from the foliage, for the needs of the camp shall not wait for anyone.

Goewyn pauses as she spots the strange shadows, watching their movements are noting they did not appear natural. She checks all her gear and makes sure to stuff a few pieces of leafed twig into her hair and clothing as she gets very low to the ground as she makes her way towards the ridge line. Her years of living in the wild mountains of her homeland taught her well and she gets within a eyesight of what turns out to be two men watching the convoy intently. She spends a few moments watching, silently and still, checking for any other signs of movement, but spots nothing else. She takes a moment before fighting the urge to creep up and slit their throats as she checks the lay of the land about her. Feeling comfortable that her warning will carry down to the camp below, she watches the ridge intently as she creeps back towards the camp just close enough to make her call. She settles in between two rocks and cups her hands around her lips as she digs deep into her throat as the sounds of a crow call echo throughout... Goewyn watches between the ridge and the camp below for any signs of reaction.

Magan's shoulders tense as he hears the bird call. His eyes dart around the horizon, trying to spot any threat, he sees nothing though and the ground is open all around them. Theli was riding next to him towards the front of the caravan. "Take Isolde and sit in the wagon with Branok, take a shield and hold it towards the door." He slows his horse to fall in beside Gawen and Gann behind him. "That was Gloyn's call. It means the men from the city are still following. Gawen can you see anything? Gann, inform Kara, have the people in the wagons use their shields to protect the sides of the wagons, have the outriders alert and moving swiftly to cover the flanks. Guthric!" He calls for the Pict. "Take your hounds and scout ahead to make sure we are not falling into a trap." He tugs on his beard as he thinks again. "And everyone, do this quietly with little fuss, panic will do us no good and try to do things a little at a time. Anyone watching would be best kept in the dark that we know they are there." Magan drops further to the side, trying to follow the direction of the call and see if he can see Goewyn. 

Gann's expression remains fixed but his stare grows cold and there's a keen glint. Then he responds affirmatively with a nod before he giddy-up his horse pace to align with Kara and speak with her privately. "We are followed. Magan had Glöyn confirm it." He has his head tilted sideways but he doesn't look behind. "The wagons would need to shield wall if it comes to ambush." He glances at the battle-trained among the group of slaves, counting their number and distribution between the wagons and finds them fairly even. During the training, many had built a small bond and seen value in each other's effort, and those that recognized skill were close to their veteran. People talk small chatter, few of them laugh and others idly stare at the treeline. Shields were propped by the inside of each wagon but few other than the hardened ones had their weapon by their arm's pace. He would see them act in the right moment but Gann hoped it would not come to this. 

After she passes along the warning, Goewyn begins moving back for a closer perspective of the men and formulated a plan in which she could kill them both off quickly and quietly. Like a living shadow of the wood spirit she flits from cover to cover, blending perfectly with her environment... this is what she was made for! She knew this in her bones... the Aesir were speaking to her... It was time for these men to know the fear of being hunted!  She draws her warseax, knowing what was to follow would be close up and she wanted to feel the spray of their blood. As she starts to crest the hillock to come up behind she suddenly spots four more men seated in a circle with their horses! She pauses for a moment of indecision and she can smell their rankness before she recalls the thicket not too far back the hillside. Stowing her Warseax and drawing her father’s bow, she takes aim at the closest man for the weak spot of his armor near the neck. She releases with a sharp snap of the bowstring, but the man flinches at the sound. The arrowhead sinks into his armor just below the throat; however, before they could react further she was already rushing back to her spot in hopes of drawing them away and deeper into her territory.

Kara grins wickedly. Tis too long since she had seen battle! Too long! For it was only this morning she was sharing the story of how Freya had conquered the giants in a test of strength, and for now to be a challenge?! Her goddess would not stand for that! How dare these unbelievers stand before them. Freya is with them, and for that they will surely not lose. She moves to make sure she is ready for the ambush coming, but knows well enough without having been part of the party to find it, she could do little but wait until it occurred. She nods to Gann "Thank you. Freya will show her glory today in this fight. For she is just and guides our quest"

The men leap into action as the unexpected arrow lands among them, pulling back from the ridge and mounting their horses. Within seconds they've gathered their things and begin riding north-east, into the hills and away from Goewyn.

Gann does not share Kara's enthusiasm for skirmish but he says nothing in return. He aloofly slows down his horse at par with the outriders and has a word with them, then confirs at a glance the battle-ready condition of the wagons at the back.

Goewyn watches as all the men retreat rapidly. Part of her was disappointed, she had hoped to kill some them before returning, but at least they now knew the fear that death was watching them and could come for them at any time. She hesitates a moment, not sure whether to pursue or return to spread the information... After a moment she decides to return to the convoy and relay the word to Magan what is happening on the hilltops...

Magan nods at the news. running his fingers through his beard as he considers. Clarifying the direction and the numbers. "We should take Guthric and Gawen and go to investigate, see if we can catch them up and prevent them from reporting on our movements."

Gann's tensed face softens when he sees Gloyn return with brisk run, and waits for her to report to Magan and catch her breath before speaking. "What did they look like?" He had the number but he needed to know more of her description of those men. 

Guthric's golden eyes lock onto Glöyn following the recount of her findings, "Which way did they go? Did they have horses, or did they run? Chance of catching horses is small, but we could do it if they ran on foot."

Goewyn will spend sometime recalling all the information to the group, including what descriptions she could recall for Gann. "They escaped on horse. Otherwise I would have just hunted them myself."