The Brigands

Watchman: Brother there is a group of 6 men riding on horseback towards the encampment. They are roughly dressed. I surmise they are brigands from the foothills. They are armed with swords spears and bucklers. They have little in the way of armor. Would you like me to sound the horn and make ready?

Brother: Ha. That is what I get for welcoming everyone to the Campfire. 

No, you have made me aware. We will see where this leads. Inform the others on watch to act casual. Perhaps they are in need.

The watchman walks away. I work with brigands. Every day. I brought 17 ne’er do wells on this project and some of their families live here now. 

Well, one did not make it. 

16 it is.

Hard men, but real. I have had more issues with the administration side of Northwich than all of these men combined.

To be a brigand is a mindset.

I watch the riders approach the fire. I remain seated with coffee in my hand.

I see arrogance in a couple of faces and insecurity in others. That is how undisciplined groups work sometimes.

Welcome to the encampment. Take a load off the horses and have a seat by the fire. There is coffee.

There is some hesitation, but coffee can disarm intent I have seen. The riders dismount. 

 Brigand: “Who are you, the lord of this filth?” 

Brother: “No coffee has been poured, grab a cup and have a seat. “

The apparent leader of the group walks toward me. I see evil in the eyes of the other 5.

He kicks my coffee pot over. I am not happy inside.

Brigand “looks like you have some families here, I will be picking up some women today. You can have them back when I am done.”

I have heard this kind of talk before. I look at him directly.

So you are a slayer of women and you disrespect my coffee. Let me guess. We will have some tough talk and you will say words to the effect of, “I will be back.” This ends now, hito*.

Draw your sword puke. I did not stammer. Draw it. 

The brigand hesitates.

That’s what I thought, now get out of my camp!

The brigand is smart. He turns to walk away and knows I am not armed. Suddenly, he draws his sword and I am on my feet. I close the distance and grab his right wrist with my right and strike him violently in the side of his neck. He does not fall but is stunned for a brief moment. I reach his neck and slam him into the fire on his back. There is terror in his eyes. He screams and 

I began kicking him. He evades me and moves towards his horse. The action happened so quickly the others just stare.

Don’t think I wont remember each one of you. You are dead men. Anyone else want to play?

*( Hito is a derogatory word I learned from the Heron elder of all things)

Author: The Storyteller

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