Chapter 1

Crouching behind a fallen tree, Eric shivered slightly. It was cold, wet and night. He was in the thick of the forest, although the border of it wasn't too far out. It did not rain anymore but water still fell from leave to leave until it hit the ground, causing a constant rustling all around him. A slight fog crept in again and he thought that there must be some swamps near by.

His clothing, invisible in the night with it's dark and brown tones, had become damp. The light leather armor under his shirt did nothing to keep him warm, but protected him against light blows while allowing him to keep nimble. In his right hand he carried his bow.

He peered over the fallen tree trunk.

The soldiers had made camp at the abandoned barn a couple days ago and had since not moved. The fog did not bother them in the least as it had been a companion for over a week now.

Everyone was driven by a need, Eric knew that. What he didn't know was what exactly the need was for these men. His own was simple enough, justice.

They had shown up a few weeks ago in a village he had been in to buy supplies. They strode in as if they owned the place and started taking what they wanted. One of the farmers tried to defend what was his and had gotten a blade into his stomach for that. A few more were reluctant but they were roughed up and then let the soldiers do as they pleased.

Anything they wanted, they took, including a couple of women. One of the soldiers even cut one woman all over her body, leaving her mutilated along the humiliation of their abuse.

Nobody had interfered.

Eric knew that attacking those men out in the open would be suicide. Nobody was experienced in fighting out here and nobody would help him if he did. The animals left the people alone and the wars were fought far away, so there was no need for them to even know how to fight. The occasional tavern brawl was usually not settled with a knife.

They left the same day and Eric had been tracking them ever since. They felt secure and were cocky, but they always kept a good watch at night. Because they moved frequently and not always in a very easy to predict way, he had not found a chance yet to attack them.

Twice he woke up and they had vanished already. Although they were watchful of their tracks, a handful of men with supplies just made too much of an impression for them to just vanish. It took him both times a while to find them again but he did.

What worried him most was that they were not just randomly traveling and plundering, they had a route and also a destination. He had watched them use a map several times. If they met up with a larger group or went to a stronghold somewhere, he would have lose the chance to kill all of these bastards in one place.

They went through a few more villages, then met a trader that gave them some supplies and since then had been taking a course directly to this barn. They seemed to be waiting for something or someone at that barn. He had to act soon.

Tonight was ideal. It had rained recently and although fall was coming there were not too many leaves on the ground. The wetness made the forest ground less noisy to walk on, but more slippery and cumbersome. The water running down the trees carried a constant rustling through the woods. With the fog coming in and the guards getting a bit tired, especially after a long boring day of waiting, they would be less sharp and his chances of killing everyone in the camp before they could react would be far greater than any other time.

From his hiding place, Eric saw the two guards by the fire clearly. They chose to sit between the fire and the barn, a bad choice as they would be blinded by the fire what was out there in the woods. On the other hand, it was warmer for them and they had shown that there was nothing they were really concerned about out here.

In observing the soldiers he had given each one a name. Besides the fire sat one with a large collection of scars on his face, so Eric had named him Scars. The other carried at least seven knives that he had noticed and counted on many more hidden. That was Knives to him. He was an especially vicious man and had cut up several villagers they had come across.

Knives being out there was a good thing. He was the only person Eric was concerned about if it came to a close fight. That man would cut him up very efficiently. He had no intention of getting anywhere near the soldier with his knives. Their leader was also a dangerous man, but he never took watch shifts, so now he would be at least get rid of the second most dangerous of the small band of soldiers first.

Eric checked the bowstring. Some drops from the fog were starting to collect so he wiped once over it. He had to act soon or it would be impossible to fire accurately.

He pulled two arrows, holding one with his left hand and putting the other on the string. He pulled it lightly with his right hand so it wouldn't slip.

Slowly and carefully he crept forward. Using the trees as cover he approached unseen.

The two men were talking in muted voices to each other. Whatever they were talking about, they did not hear anything else than the occasional hiss or crackle of the fire, above the general murmur of the forest around them.

"How much longer?", Knives asked.

"Don't know", Scars said and scratched his face, "Captain said a week or so."

"I don't like it, sitting here, doing nothing."

"Yeah, this is not what I was looking forward to, but the trip has been good enough. We just gotta get rid of that sack and then we can return. Just keep thinking of the pay. That's worth it, don't you think?"

Scars looked at Knives, waiting for an answer.

"Oy, whats wrong, you hear some more squirrels again out there? I keep telling you, there ain't a thing close by."

Scars leaned over to check if his companion had fallen asleep on him.

The second arrow hit perfectly into Scars exposed neck. Scars stared at the shaft in disbelieve and then collapsed.

Scars leaning body hit the sitting corpse of Knives, which had expired just moments before. The arrow pierced the back and went straight through the heart but had not made it all the way through. Eric had seen the knife wielding man wore no armor to be more agile, another indicator that he was very dangerous up close, so he did not need to aim for an exposed area like with Scars who had a ring shirt as body armor.

With the bodies colliding, Knives tipped over and into the fire. Instantly Knives hair was ablaze and the shield that he had propped up next to him fell to the ground, hitting some rocks to make an awfully loud sound.

Cursing silently, Eric ran across the small open area between the tree that had been hiding him and the fire, making sure he didn't look directly into it. With his foot he pushed knives away from the fire and was glad to see that the mans clothing had not caught on yet.

He listened intently if anyone had heard something. Carefully he knocked a third arrow.

Keeping his back to the fire, he slowly moved towards the entrance of the barn.

The barn once had a large double door, but now only a board hanging from a nail what had been the hinge of one side, was a witness to such a construction. The roof was mostly intact, thanks partly to a tree that had grown inside the barn and through the roof, which kept most of the rain out and also helped carrying the roofs weight. Probably the only reason why the barn as such was still standing.

The soldiers had taken shelter in the back part of the barn, close to the trees roots. They were protected from the elements better back there but they must have also seen it as a tactically better position. Behind their sleeping rolls, they had a few sacks with supplies. No horses, which Eric found odd from the very first day he saw them.

In total there were seven soldiers, only five left alive.

Mustache stepped around the corner, fixing up his belt. Eric was ready and loosened his arrow point blank range. Although the arrow hit and the man went down, it did not kill him instantly. Mustache went to the ground with a scream as Eric pulled his dagger and silenced the soldier before he could get to any of his own weapons.

Now they all would wake up. Fast and quietly he ran to the back of the barn, knocking the next arrow.

Inside the barn he could hear clatter and voices. Names were being shouted but outside nobody was alive to answer them.

Confident that they would take another few moments to show up, Eric shifted his position once more.

Carefully the remaining soldiers emerged from the barn, blades drawn, watching the dark all around them. They had already spotted Mustaches body and a few mumbled words were spoken. One of them darted away and checked on the guards they had left near the fire. He stood up, Eric had given him the nickname Thin. The man said something about them being dead. In that moment he was struck by an arrow and pinned against the side of the barn through his chest. Thin gurgled something and tried to pull on the arrow but only got pain as a reward. He was unable to free himself.

The leader barked orders, pointing in the general direction the arrow had come from. Eric already had vanished from his old position and was almost at the back of the barn. His opponents had looked straight into the fire and were unable to see his dark form moving about.

They were more cautious now, being aware of the arrows. Thin was obviously also the most inexperienced of the group, as he had not heeded the warning of the arrow sticking out of Mustaches chest.

Slowly the soldier Lance stepped around the corner to the back of the barn. He peered into the darkness but could not see anybody, then turned back to glance around the corner. Silently like a shadow, Eric dropped down behind the man. The old barn had so many hand and footholds for him that it had been almost like climbing a very old ladder.

Lance's throat was cut before the man could even lift his name giving weapon and dropped on the spot. Only their leader and the southern man left. Grabbing one leg, Eric pulled Lance more into the shadows.

Before climbing the barn, Eric had thrown his bow into the bushes. He sheathed his dagger and drew his sword now. Neither opponent left would give him an opening for the bow or the dagger. But an open fight against two skilled soldiers like these would was extremely risky. If he would be able to dispatch either man before it came to an open fight he had a good chance.

Eric did not believe in fairness in a fight to the death. Either they were dead or you were dead. You could use any means you wanted to kill your opponent when that was the goal. Best in the back, from the dark, over a distance, while they sleep. This was only about living or being dead. He could not be stabbed by a dead man, but one he gave a fair chance might just get lucky enough.

The leader and the southern soldier came around to the fire again. He shouted a name, probably Lance's name. Of course no answer came.

The southern man checked on the thin man pinned to the side of the barn. In that moment the leader looked away and Eric took the chance.

He leaped around the corner and with full speed slashed his sword towards the Southerns neck. A sound from the pinned soldier made him look towards Eric' just early enough to dodge. A second time tonight Eric cursed himself. He came to a stop between the two standing soldiers with their weapons drawn.

The leader looked confused to Eric, sizing the person up that had come out of nowhere. It was a young man, maybe twenty or so years. He was a tall one, although not as tall as himself. A simple straight sword in his hand, he was too far away to be of any danger this instant. The garments looked a bit ragged, brown simple clothing that he looked like something hunters in the woods often wore. The head had very short brown hair and brown eyes were pinned on his every move. Obviously the boy had not grown a beard yet. In the face of the young man, he saw determination.

After estimating the threat from Eric, which only took a moment, the Leader looked to his companion and then around to the forest again.

"Where are the soldiers who are with you boy?"

Southern had turned and pointed his thin but very fast sword at Eric.

"I'm alone", Eric replied calmly.

A small twitch in the Leaders face spoke volumes of his surprise.

"You are telling me that you alone killed my men? Impossible! You are a wood rat, some small child barely off his mothers apron. Lucky bastard you are you haven't killed yourself with that long knife of yours there."

"There's only one bastard here and I'm looking right at him."

With that and a scream of rage, the Leader charged Eric, closely followed by the Southern.

Most soldiers regard a fire as an invisible wall. If there is a fire they act like it was a solid object and did not count it as something that might give someone else an opportunity to move in that direction. It could burn you, catch on your hairs, heat up your weapons or even damage them. The knowledge that a brief contact would not do any of that, just saved Eric life this instant.

Sparks flew to each side as Eric dove and rolled through the fire to escape the first blow from the leader. The second from the Southern went into thin air. By the time they were aware of what happened, Eric already attacked the Southern from the side.

Fighting against two people was not so bad, but he knew that there was no chance he could keep going for long. They had twice his endurance if not more, twice the bodies, arms and legs. As with any opponent he needed to kill them fast, but in this particular case faster or they would wear him down.

Surprise flickered over the Southerns face and he just managed to fend of the first jab. A second glance slid of the mans blade before the leader could join.

The large leader was completely encased in plate armor, the kind that was not for show but for serious protection. He could just defend against blows with his arms and concentrate on hacking his enemies to pieces. Many scratches and slight dents proved he knew how to use it.

Stepping sideways, Eric tried to keep the Southern between him and the leader. The two blows he had to block from the large man had already strained his arm.

Impatient, the leader pushed the southern man out of the way, swinging his sword toward Eric. The push unbalanced the Southern man, making him flail with both arms. Jumping forward, just past the down sweep of the leaders blade, he jabbed at the southern man and found his mark. Twisting the blade, he pulled it out again, rolled off the ground and came up to his feet. The Southern had crumpled, with his hands trying to hold his neck, but he had lost that battle before the leader was fully turned around in his armor.

The rage fueled even more now, the leader screamed and charged.

By a hairs width the blade missed Eric as he dodged again. The leaders body flew by and with his armored elbow he grazed Eric head.

The blow felt like he had just been trampled by a horse and his ears were ringing, his sight blurry. The blade was very close before he realized the large man had already turned and was attacking again and just barely he managed to parry the blow.

It nearly knocked the blade out of Eric hand. The moment the swords met it felt like his arm as going numb, so he put his second hand on the sword hilt as well.

His opponent was wielding a weapon almost as large as the man himself, a true two handed weapon and the man knew how to use it's terrible force. Being large and very strong added to the impression of a formidable foe and Eric was feeling like this was his last one if this went on like that.

The man spun and delivered a hard blow Eric could redirect but that brought the man closer and this time he tried to use his armored foot against Eric. The blow did not connect fully but he knew that this would bruise badly on his thigh. Then again his thigh was the least of his problems right now.

Although the leader was a bit slow on changing directions, his arms and long blade made up with it in range and power. He was also very experienced and used every bit of his advantages. Eric jabbed at him twice, but the man just slapped the sword away with his arm, just to bring his own weapon down upon him.

"I'll hack you to pieces you little bastard and feed you to the crows."

With renewed rage the leader made a two handed sweep at Eric. The blade glanced off the main blade and then connected with full force at the straight cross guard. The blow shook Eric to his bones. Maybe one or two more of these and he would be unable to hold his weapon anymore.

His strength was sapping away fast, moving was harder as was just the simple act of breathing.

The leader recognized the signs, his eyes lit up and with a large roar, he slashed at Eric, springing his blade from his hand and making him trip. He fell on his back and pushed up onto his right elbow, just when the big man stood over him.

Triumph gleamed in the leaders eyes. It heightened as he saw the fear of his impending demise in Eric face.

Time slowed to a crawl for both opponents.

The leader saw how the boy was trying to grab his dagger while laying awkwardly on the ground. The sword was too far away to be of any help. But with that puny little weapon, the boy would be unable to stop the large blade, it probably would just shatter from the impact. He had seen it before, had killed people that thought their dagger would block the sword. Besides, what did the boy think he could do with the dagger. By the time his swing brought him anywhere close enough to possibly use it, the boy would be split in two.

As the blade descended, the boy to his feet raised the left arm as if to defend against the blade. A useless gesture he had also seen often. The mighty sword with it's speed and his strength would just cut clean through the arm like through dry leaves.

A knowing grin of success started to form on the leaders face as he leaned fully into that last blow to his helpless and disarmed victim on the ground.

The sword came down and found it's target on Eric raised arm.