Ok, here's my story. I know what I'm going to have happen in it, I've just run out of juice atm (keep it clean folks). It's going to be horribly long - sorry. I'm posting what I've done so far (in complete) up. Be nice dears, I'm fragile.
The sun beat down mercilessly as the bound slaves were forced to march across the wasteland. The sun caused the air to rise up from the ground in a haze. The lead slave, Tyughuht, stumbled and fell, forcing the others to halt behind him. His wife, Ovniigh, ran forwards to see if he was ok.
"My love, are you alright?" A whip lashed cruelly at her back, making her wince with pain.
"Get away from him, slave." The voice grated the air, causing any nearby wildlife to take off in alarm.
"Never." Her vioce was defiant, a tone which was reflected in her eyes as she stared into the face of the whip bearer. He slapped her across her face, but she did not cry out. She continued to stare at him, her gaze boring into him. "You can do what you like, but I will never submit to scum like you." The whip cracked, coming down barely inches from her face. Still she did not flinch. The male pressed his face close to hers, so that they were nose to nose.
"Looks like you're already submissive, slave." Ovniigh spat in his face. The next few actions were a blur. The whip bearer shouted, "Someone get this slave hooked up!" Ovniigh took off across the parched, barren wasteland, running away from the column of slaves. There were cheers as she gained ground. But not for long. Three soldiers took after her, tackling her and bringing her low. She bit, kicked and scratched as best she could, the three only just managing to keep hold of her. A younger slave was freed from the cart carrying the soldiers packs, and forced into line with the others. Ovniigh was dragged between the shafts of the cart and tied to them, so she could not move without taking the cart with her. The whip bearer strode over to her, a wicked grin on his face as she struggled against the ropes that held her captive.
"Lets see how much fighting spirit you have after pulling this cart!"
"Kalpod! Leave that slave! Get up here, now!" He scurried away, heading towards the head of the procession.
"Yes Cap'n Elphos?"
"Get your best scouting party and take them forwards. I want somewhere nice to camp tonight!" Kalpod sharply called forward four of his best men, before nodding to his captain and setting off at a fast pace away from the pack. Elphos halted his men, and walked slowly towards the slave group. Seeing Ovniigh tied to the cart, he appeared to meander over to her, keeping an eye on the horizon on his right. In reality he was watching the slaves reactions as he strode over to her, drawing his sword as he went. An audible gasp went through the slaves.
"So, you think that you're too good to be a slave. You think that we are cruel, heartless, capturing you and forcing you to work for us. Consider yourself lucky. Any other slave that was as impertinent as you, under any other commander, would see you dead, left to rot in the sun."
"You won't get away with this, you filthy scum! You are not fit to wipe the mud off of my shoes. You should be worried as you lay to sleep at night. My son is coming to avenge his people!"
* * * * * * * * *
Lathor walked amongst the ruins of his village. There were pots and pans scattered about, houses smouldering. Death and destruction lay everywhere. Marthen and Madeuz joined their friend as he stood outside his fathers house, watching as it crumbled to the ground.
"We will help you find them, my friend. Our families are with them too." Maduez laid a hand on Lathor's shoulder
"Your families are with them. Mine lay here." Both turned to look at Marthen. He nodded towards a slightly smaller house, a little way off the main path. He began to walk towards it, the other two following closely behind. He pushed open the door, and it was a sorry sight that greeted their eyes. A male and female, both dead, were inside. The female was sat at a rough hewn wooden table, an arrow protruding from her chest. The male was laying on the floor a short distance in front, a sword in his hand and a shocked look on his face. Both were staring directly ahead.
"Fenya. Telfost." Maduez ran over to them, closing their eyes after she felt no pulse. Lathor pulled the sword free of Telfost's limp hand, noticing a large gash across his stomach as he did so.
"Take it Marthen. He would have wanted you to have it."
"He wouldn't have wanted to die. The cowards!" Bitter tears shone in his eyes, as he took the sword from Lathor and walked outside. Madeuz hurried after him, shooting a dirty look at Lathor as she went. She found him wiping the blade with a bit of cloth he had found on the ground.
"There is still hope. Galcos isn't here. Perhaps he escaped." The tears began to fall from Marthen's eyes.
"No, theres no-one. I'm all alone." Madeuz placed an arm around his shoulders, feeling him lean into her. She hugged him tightly.
"You're not alone. I'm here. And so is Lathor. We're each other's family now." Marthen wept bitterly into her shoulder. She couldn't help feeling for him. His parents were lying dead in the house behind them, and there was no sign of his brother. There was no sign of any of their families. Lathor stood awkwardly in the doorway behind them, not wanting to intrude. It had been the three of them, ever since they were young, but Marthen and Madeuz had always seemed closer. It didn't seem fitting that he, Lathor, should intrude, even though Marthen was his best friend. He stood for a while, then went into the house and walked upstairs. Prising up a loose floorboard, he checked underneath. Picking up the bow and quiver full of arrows, he replaced the floorboard and went downstairs. Marthen was drying his eyes when he returned. He soundlessly took his bow and arrows when Lathor handed them to him, nodding once to show his thanks. Lathor checked the sharpness of his daggers, gouging deep chucks out of the doorway. The sword that hung from Madeuz's waist glinted in it's scabbard as Marthen slung his quiver over his shoulder. Picking up an ordinary stick, he tested his bowstring. The stick flew far into the distance, snapping against a tree trunk upon impact.
"Lets go."
"Lathor, we don't know where we're going, or what we're doing. We need to formulate a plan."
"Lathor, can I borrow a dagger please." He pulled one of the two daggers that hung, unsheathed, from his waist. He handed it to Marthen, who disappeared into a wood close-by. He reappeared moments later, carrying two stout beech sticks. He threw one to Madeuz, who leaned on it. The other he kept himself, slashing with the dagger to form a deadly point at one end. He passed the dagger back to Lathor, who placed it through his waistband. Marthen used the flat end of his stick to illustrate on the ground as he spoke.
"While we were out gathering food, a group of petty thieves raided our village and conqured our families. It's gone now, but there was a dust cloud over to the west, heading for Delsofort. This cloud of dust I believe to be our families. Delsofort is the home of the Coslim, a large group of seasoned fighters. We are going to need help if we are to free our kinsmen. To get this help, I suggest we travel to Limedon. If we can gather enough people there, we can then travel to Delsofort and free our people. What do you say?" Madeuz and Lathor studied the map on the ground, with one arrow pointing to the west, with 'village' above it, another to the northeast, with 'us' above it. It lead to a round circle, labelled 'Limedon'. And arrow then came from Limedon and went in a straight line, directly to a square called 'Delsofort', and met up with the line from 'village'. Madeuz stood in silence for a while, staring at the map. A steely look of grim determination came over her face. Clasping her sword hilt in her left hand, she uttered three words.
"Let's do it." Lathor took slightly longer to decide. He was shocked at the speed with which Marthen came up with the plan, and the details that he knew. He was equally as shocked by the tone of Madeuz's voice, and the readiness with which she agreed.
"But what about if we're not successful? What if we can't recruit people? What happens then?"
"Then we fight alone." Lathor looked scared.
"Don't tell me you're scared of fighting for your people. You are the son of the Tyughuht, village leader. Think of all the times he has fought to save you. Are you telling me now that you will not give your life to save him?" Madeuz was scaring him. The look was still on her face, and was reflected in her voice. He looked between the two, not knowing what to say, or how to act.
"Leave him Maddy. He's too scared to even be half the man his father is. If my father was still alive I would gladly give my life to save him." Marthen strode away, and, after a contemptuous glance at Lathor, was swiftly followed by Madeuz. He watched his two friends walk off towards Limedon, undeterred by the odds, willing to give their lives to save the rest of the village. He marvelled at their bravery. Scrambling to his feet, he ran after them, falling in time to their march without a word. Thus the trio made their way into the forest, marching towards hope.
* * * * * * * * *
It was late in the evening before the three stopped marching, tired and hungry. Seating themselves on a floor of soft grasses underneath a hanging rock ledge, they looked at their surroundings.
"Limedon's that way. I think we should camp here for the night and then set off at dawn." Madeuz pointed in a nor'easterly direction, before leaning against the supporting wall of rock and shivering slightly.
"It's cold and I'm hungry."
"Theres a storm coming. Smell the air, look at the sky. The clouds are scudding quickly, and they are getting more grey. The air seems fresher, colder."
"Well, thank you for the science lesson Marthen. What are we going to do for shelter?" Lathor was quick to anger, especially when he missed the obvious.
"You know, for the son of the village leader, you're a real whiner. What do you think this rock ledge is here for, decoration? You stay here and search for firewood, quickly, and stack it underneath the rock ledge. I'll go about searching for something to make a screen, so we're fenced in on three sides. Marthen can search around for anything edible and a large, flat rock, plus anything he might be able to use as cooking instruments."
"Oooh, I like your style. Very quick thinking."
"Thanks. I'm not just a pretty face you know." With that, Maduez disappeared into the surrouding woodland, leaving Marthen and Lathor sat there. Pulling himself up, Marthen went about searching for food. Lathor remainded seated. Maduez reappeared moments later, carrying large clumps of bushy ferns.
"Lathor! If we have to go hungry tonight because we have no fire wood, you might as well go back to the village right now!" Lathor began to protest, but she cut him off, "I don't care who you are, or what status you have. I'm not travelling with a whining lay-about who does nothing, just because his father was the village leader. Stir yourself into action one way or another!" She dumped the ferns beneath the rock, scowling at Lathor, before disappearing into the woodland once more. Finding a large, flat rock, Marthen placed it underneath the ledge and carried on searching for food,. He too disappeared into the forest surrounding them. Lathor looked around. He was all alone in a clearing. Jumping up, he began to search around, looking for firewood and stacking it as quickly as he could underneath the rockledge. The slightest snap of a twig, and he woul jump in the air. The same went for any animal noises.
"I'm not made for living outside. I don't like it here, and the sooner we get my father back and settle at home again, the better."
"Honestly, all you do is complain. I wouldn't let Madeuz hear you. I think it's beginning to annoy her. Best to keep quiet unless you have anything constructive to say." Lathor spun round, dropping his laod of firewood.
"Marthen! Don't sneak up on someone like that!" Marthen chuckled.
"I was hardly sneaking. If I'd have made much more noise they would have heard me in Limedon!" Noticing his crestfallen face, he smiled. "Don't worry, your instincts will get better. It just takes practice, like your daggers. I bet by the end of this you'll be better than all of us. Now, help me light a fire and cook these fish." Lathor hadn't noticed that Marthen was carrying a vine, with three fish attached, and all manner of fruits and herbs held together in his shirt. Picking up two nearby flints, and the remainder of his firewood, Lathor followed Marthen to the rockledge. Just at that moment Madeuz returned, with several thin whippy willow shoots and a large amount of vine. She set to work, neither looking or speaking at the other two until she had bound the ferns around the willow shoots to make two walls, which she then lashed tothe rockledge, creating screens on two sides.
"Well, come on, lets get this fire started and the food cooking shall we?" Soon they had a fire blazing in the centre of the make-shift shelter. The fish was cooking wrapped in some large leaves that Lathor had managed to find, covered with herbs. Marthen had chopped the fruit into small pieces and these were simmering in some shells that had been found by the stream where the fish had been caught. Also with the fruit were some thin sugar canes, oozing melted sugar gently from their centres, and a small amount of honey that had been found in an abandoned hive. It was just as they were sitting back waiting for their meal that it began to rain. Slowly at first, but then the big thick drops came down heavy and fast. The smoke from the fire drifted out of the single open side, only to be dissolved in the rain. It was snug and dry in the little shelter, with the wind howling and rain lashing the outsides and surrounding woodland.
"We chose a good spot."
"That we did. Snug, dry, we did well. Especially with the screens. A team effort." There was a silence between them, only the crackling of the fire penetrating their thoughts of family.
"Is the fish ready yet? I'm hungry!"
"Lathor!" Marthen and Madeuz fell about laughing, with Lathor looking confused.
"What? What did I say?"
* * * * * * * * *
Elphos was sitting in his tent, a fire roaring and servants bringing him food and drink. His captains and soldiers were camped around his tent, trying to glean as much warmth as they could, huddled under cloaks propped up on sticks. The captured villagers were faring the worst. Lashed to the cart and still bound to each other, they were out in the storm, the rain drops thudding dully on the ground, causing little clouds of dust to rise. As the night wore on, Elphos' army were looking more and more dispirited, huddling together, rainwater dripping off their cloaks, running down their necks. Kalpod had found a slightly shetered area, in the lee of the wind by a group of large rocks. However, it did not stop the rain from falling, driving into the soldiers like needles.
"Huh, how are we supposed to sleep in this?"
"We're not. We're to keep an eye on the slaves. Don't let 'is mit'yness cathch you moaning, or Cap'n Kalpod neither. They'll gut us wivout a second fourt mate." The two guards closest to the cart, huddled closer underneath their shared cloak, munching on their rations of crusty bread, a small amount of pigeon meat and flagons of cider. The captured villagers sat huddled together, the young children underneath the cart. Ovniigh's open rebellion had wrought a change upon them. They were all fighting back with what little strength they had left.
"Whats the matter, can't you stand a light shower?"
"What are yew talkin' about? This ain't no light shower - tis a full blown storm!"
"Rubbish! If you want a storm, you should live on the coast."
"Yew better be gettin' some kip. We've got a long march tomorrow. Yew'll be needin' yore strength." Prenula sighed.
"I hope that Madeuz is ok."
"She will be mother. You know what she's like. A born warrior. And she'll be with Marthen and Lathor. Safe as houses."
"But house aren't that safe Larkon my dear, as we discovered to our cost today. Poor Fenya, she never stood a chance. Telfost died trying to defend his home. May their souls rest in peace."
"Do you think Marthen will be ok?"
"I should think so. He could overcome anything, as long as he has those two by his side."
"Do you think he'll come to rescue us mother?"
"Larkon, they'll all come to our rescue. You must get the idea of you and Marthen out of your head. If he ends up with anyone, it'll be Madeuz." Larkon's bottom lip began to wobble, "Hush now dear, you knew it was going to be that way. But I can imagine that he would be a solitary soul, roaming alone for all of his days."
"It's not fair. I love him. She doesn't! She never has!"
"Larkon, hush. My brother has no feelings for you. I'm sorry, but it's true. Your mother is right. At least you'll still be able to see him when you visit your sister."
"You mean...." The other spekaer nodded.
"But Galcos, how could he! After all I've done for him! How could he!" Larkon broke down, tears mixing with the rain. Galcos spoke to her gently, one hand on her shoulder.
"My dear, you are too young for him. He was flattered by your acts, truely he was, but it isn't his fault that he loves another. You can't blame him. Nor can you blame your sister. 'Tis the way it's meant to be. It was written in the stars long ago." The two soldiers standing guard nearby sniggered.
"Lissen to 'im, goin' on about fates 'n' stars 'n' stuff. 'E's soft in the 'ead, 'e is."
"Aye, but we knew that already. Tis written in the stars!" They collapsed into a fit of helpless laughter. Lucky for them Galcos didn't hear them.
* * * * * * * * *
There was silence in the forest. The storm finally over, it was peaceful and calm. Marthen rubbed his eyes wearily, struggling to keep awake. Lathor had taken the first watch as they slept, then him. He had been due to wake Madeuz for her sentry watch a few hours ago. He hadn't, however. He had sat there, watching her sleep, smiling as her breathing had grown deeper and deeper. At one point it seemed as though she had stopped breathing altogether, and at this point he had drawn close to her, panic etched on his young face. But then she sighed, as did he, and he drew back a little way, content with watching her for the time. Now, although glad that she had had a full nights rest, he wished that there was a fourth with them, so he could have had some sleep too. She stirred, as he watched her, coming round to conciousness.
"Hmmmm, I feel really refreshed. Marthen, why didn't you wake me? Look at the light coming through the gap! It must been dawn at least. You were supposed to wake me after a few hours!"
He shrugged.
"It is a few hours later. I just didn't need to wake you, thats all." He grinned, and Madeuz found that she couldn't be angry at him.
"I'm making breakfast then. Wake Lathor up, then have a bit of a kip. Tell him if he argues that he'll have me to deal with."
"I'm sure he'll be quaking in his boots." Madeuz paused at the gap they used for a door.
"You really think so?"
"Oh yes, without a doubt." Marthen's face was a picture of innocent honesty, but it cracked at he fought to keep back the giggles straining the corners of his mouth.
"Honestly, I almost believed you there." Madeuz shrugged sadly, walking out of their make-shift shelter. Suddenly a handful of wet pine needles and sloppy mud came through the gap and landed on his face. There was a giggle from outside, and the sound of retreating footsteps. Marthen hurried to the gap.
"Oi!" But there was no-one. Shaking his head, he turned to wake Lathor, muttering as he did.
"Honestly, I don't know...."
"Are you ok? What happened? Are you hurt? Where's Maduez?" Words poured out of Lathor's mouth like water from a tumbler.
"Madeuz happened. And she's gone to make breakfast. Rekindle the fire again would you, I've been told to have a nap."
"What, why me? And why do you get a nap. You've been asleep half the night!" Marthen smiled.
"Madeuz said you'd argue, and that you'd have her to deal with if you did." Lathor fell silent, scurrying about, trying to rekindle the fire with the wood they stored the night before. Marthen lay, eyes closed, a broad grin plastered on his face. The last thing he heard was the sound of flint striking flint, and then sleep overwhelmed him.
* * * * * * * * *
Elphos woke, fully refreshed. He was near Delsofort, he could feel his home calling him. It was close by. Delsofort was a large castle, long abandoned by the forces of good. Elphos had his slaves farm the nearby land until it was infertile, barren, soil eroding in the slightest wind. But Elphos didn't care. He was the captain of the largest band of theives that ever walked. The Coslim! No-one had ever taken him on and won. He had captured many people, slain many more that had tried to stop him. The idle threats of these villagers about warriors coming to avenge their people didn't worry him. He hadn't reckoned on the greatest warriors alive. He marched out of his tent, smalling the fresh air that the storm had bought them. From what he had heard, there were two young warriors and a warrior maid. Pah! They were no worry to him. He kicked the nearest soldier awake.
"You, up on your feet!" The soldier sprang up at being addressed by the leader that all feared.
"Yes mightyness. I live to do your bidding mightyness!" He fell flat on the floor and began to kiss Elphos' feet.
"Do get up, you slobbering worm. If I want my shoes cleaned, I shall let you know. In the mean time, you are to go on a little errand for me." The soldier sprang up again, dark black circles under his eyes, his gaunt figure barely hidden underneath his shabby robes.
"Firstly, get Captain Kalpod. Tell him I want to see you both in my tent. In five minutes." The young soldier saluted sharply, turned and ran to the largest cloak tent, where he knew that he could find Captain Kalpod. The leader of the Coslim gave a dry chuckle. The fools! He turned and walked back into his tent, motioning for his servants to bring him food and wine, fine clothes and setting them out on the table in front of his grand seat. Putting his hands together, he waited in silence until the officer he had woken and Kalpod arrived in his office. He beckoned them close to the table.
"Gentlemen. Sit, eat." Noting the looks on their faces, he smiled. "Do not be afraid. It is not poisoned. Why would I poison my finest officer and someone who's name I do not even know. Consequently, what is your name?" The young officer gulped.
"Lashnor, mightyness."
"Please, Lashnor, call me Captain Elphos. I have good news for you. I am promoting you to a captain. I have seen how you have performed recently and feel that your exceptional behavior merits a suitable reward. Please, take these robes," he indicated the finery that lay beside the food, "After you have eaten, you shall put these robes on, and my slaves shall bring you a sword from my personal armoury. Then, you shall pick 5 men, take them with you and backtrack, looking for these supposed warriors. Bring me back their heads and you shall be rewarded well. Kalpod, come with me." Elphos rose, Kalpod following behind him.
"Cap'n, you know how I never usually doubt your judgement, but was that a wise decision?"
"Kalpod, Kalpod, Kalpod. My dear young Kalpod. If these warriors are as highly trained as they're supposed to be, which I doubt, why send my best officers out there? Why not send some silly little nobodies who no-one will miss. That way, I can keep my best men with me at all times, for when I get back to Delsofort."
"Delsofort? Are we nearly there?" Elphos smiled at the look of relief and joy that crept slowly across Kalpod's face as he thought of home.
"Indeed my dear friend, we are within a day's march. I can feel it in my bones. Go, stir the troops. We march!"
She updates!!!! It's a miracle!!! My writers block had finally gone (for the minute anyway) and dum-dah-dah-dah-dum-dah-dah-daaaaaaaaaaaaaah..... I bring you.... More story!!!
* * * * * * * * *
Marthen awoke to the smell of cooking fish.
"You didn't sleep long." There was a rumble, and Lathor looked to the sky.
"Do you think there will be more rain?" Marthen grinned sheepishly.
"No, that was my stomach. Which is also why I wasn't asleep long. The smells of cooking called me, and who am I to refude food?" Madeuz smiled. She watched him as they all ate, watching his dark black hair fall into his eyes, and him brush it out, only for it to fall back again. It had a rebelious nature, just like him. His bright blue eyes seemed even brighter in the morning light, although he had not had much sleep. He always seemed alert, and yet never showed any sign of it. And he had a great patience with Lathor, something she could never manage to achieve, no matter how hard she tried. He finsihed eating, and looked at her.
"Is there something?"
"Yes, I was just noticing how tired you look. Get some more sleep. We can afford to stay here for another day, and then double march for two to get to Limedon ahead of time."
"Oh, we can, can we? And who put you in charge. I'm the village leader's son, I'm in charge." Marthen winced, and Madeuz looked at him as though regarding an idiot.
"I'm the village leader's son, I'm in charge."She mimicked. "Seeing as you didn't even want to come along in the first place, I hardly think that likely. You couldn't organise a wine drinking contest in a vineyard, let alone a rescue mission. How many times do I have to tell you that I couldn't care less who's son you are, you have no experience, always having been kept at home when we went out to fight. Daddy didn't want you getting hurt. Why don't you just go back to the village, if that's your only symbol of who you are. You'd be better off there than getting in the way here, while we go and save your father!" There was a whoosing noise, and a clang of steel. It was only when Lathors dagger hit the floor, and Madeuz was holding her sword to his throat, that Marthen realised what had happened.
"I'm suprised you got so good at throwing those toys Lathor! Was that all Daddy would let you do? I wonder if he even knew you had them, after all, he couldn't have you doing any real fighting, could he? If you think you can get the better of me by throwing things at me, you are very much mistaken! Next time you even think about doing that, I'll slit your throat before you can even beg for mercy!" Lathor gulped visibly, and looked to Marthen for help.
"I did tell you to try and be of a complaining whingebag. I'm not suprised her short temper has snapped, I know mine's coming close to it. However, Maddy, what would the rest of the village think if you killed one of your childhood friends?"
"He's no friend of mine. He was always your friend. I just put up with him, because he was the village leader's son. Didn't want to get kicked out of my home, but now I have to home to go to." Her sword was still dangerously close to his throat. Marthen walked over to her, and gently grasped her arm.
"Maddy, not now. Save the village first, and then settle your differences. By the end of it, you might not have any differences to settle." She lowered her sword, but was still angry, it was obvious from the way she stood and sheathed her sword.
"Hopefully that'll be the case. Someone will have killed him for me." With that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the shelter. Lathor rubbed his throat, looking paler than he had ever done before, and Marthen was shocked.
"Well, now she's gone, we can carry on with saving the village, hey Marthen."
"Oh for God's sake, shut-up! Keep quiet and you'll do us all a favour. Stay here and do something productive. I'm going after her."
"Something productive? Like what?"
"Use your imagination, and don't attract attention to yourself, otherwise someone may well find you and kill you!" With that Marthen ran out of the shelter in the direction the Madeuz had taken. Lathor found himself alone in the shelter, with nothing but the wind and the fading fire for company. To top things off, it began to rain again.