Fools. The sullen cavalier sat upon the rickety wooden rampart nursing a now cool mug of mead, staring out into the darkness and listening to the seemingly endless debate of names below. Chase, Raam, and Zuhair drunkenly debated what name to bless the newly won zombie infested plot of land with. Fort Redemption. The Redeemers. The name had been coined by the recently departed Theodric. Balian had hoped the name would have departed with him but Zuhair did not forget and soon even the newcomers Raam and Chase were repeating the name. Balian always introduced himself as part of the “Chartered Company” which sounded more dignified and true to him. A chartered company is what they were and they had papers to prove it.
The “Redeemers” sounded like a crazed lot of religious fanatics on some idealistic crusade. Balian had never been a pious man. He respected the gods and their power but felt that lesser beings relied too much on them. If there was one god Balian followed it was Gorum. Gorum was a god of action and battle. Redemption had no place. It came down to who had the greatest strength and the quickest steel. It worried Balian that the newly founded Fort Redemption and its occupants might soon come to know this lesson.
The dry bones of a zombie creaked below. Balian did his best to ignore it as his eyes attempted to pierce the darkness to the west. Less than six miles west from the fort lay unexplored territory. To the east it was just across the river. To the south lay a vast lake. Balian imagined he could see black ships approaching silently across the waters.
The plan to kill the Stag Lord had been executed almost flawlessly Balian reflected. It was an irony that the dreaded bandit they had feared died so easily in his sleep, the victim of a demonspawn’s silver tongue and too much drink. Now the “Redeemers” found themselves owners of a treasure they could barely carry and fort they could not possibly defend. Fort Redemption. Pah! It might as well be Fort Mite for all the good it will do when bandit stragglers or some other creature happens to find it unoccupied and puts it to the torch.
The trek back to Oleg’s would be long with such a richly laden wagon and what then? It was more dangerous to store it at Oleg’s than to bury it out on the open plain. Oleg’s offered no place secure and was overrun with spies and thieves at the moment.
Balian’s thoughts turned toward the young woman they had recently rescued. The bandits had treated her savagely and he pitied her. What was she doing away from Restov? How had the bandits had an opportunity to take her? She said her father was a merchant in Restov. Perhaps her safe return would spark a new opportunity. The lands of the Greenbelt were becoming clear of bandits it occurred to Balian that he might soon find himself out of a job.
More laughter ensued below. Balian wondered why after the apparent victory he was feeling more anxious than he did before he charged the gates.
