Darkness started to fall over the land like some sort of blanket pulled up by a loving mother, the stars burning white and bright. Bill Cutting looked toward the horizon, a thin broken line of the remaining sun, as it set. Bill rolled his shoulders backward to unwind himself, loosening his muscles as he held his axe by the head. He reached the gate, the oaf Goatleaf had the nerve to talk to him, "Careful out there, you know how dangerous Bree is after dark." he'd say. Cutting responded with a glare, as he walked on past. He shook his head, Bree only became dangerous because of the Southron dogs. They've grown in number, and their camps spread across Bree give the hint of siege. A ghost of a smile reached his mouth as he started to stray from the road, stalking through the darkness. Corrben ought to be here.
The Southrons seemed to number in the several hundreds, two, maybe four hundreds in Bree. Recent rumor speaks of hundreds more elsewhere. Hundreds of these damned dogs outside our hedge, and Bree does Nothing. But I'll continue my work. I'll tend the trees.
My step was quiet, and quick paced. Though I paused, when I spied three brigands laying in wait, eyes toward the road. Not sure whom they were expecting, but I kept my distance, for now, holding my axe firmly. Crack. Behind me a twig snapped, and in a whirl of anger and fear, I slammed the flat of my axe to slap across the face of a brigand.
Nearly got me.
The brigand fell down with a cry of hurt, and alarm. The three by the road quickly jogging toward the sound. In a growl, I raised my axe, and buried it into the mans collarbone, shattering the bones. Blood sprayed, and the smell of the mans fear filled the air, as they stained his breeches. And so I readied myself for the assault.
Two of them where armed with clubs, though the leader of this pack held a sword, and held in like a butcher, not so tall, but built. They looked in alarm at the scene, and rushed me, all at once. I raised my boot to kick harshly at one them in the chest, backhanding the next that tried to swing his club downward. The blunt iron stubs on my knuckles broke the skin around his temple, followed by a crunch of bone that would make a soft man spew up his mornin' meal. The man I kicked simply recoiled, winded, leaving me open to attack by the one armed with the sword.
The swordsman took full advantage of my current state, cocking his arm back to try to slash down at me in a diagonal, upon instict I grabbed the sword as it came down, the cheap iron thankfully not biting through the leather. The man grabbed the hilt with two hands, as if applying more pressure would take my hand. The impact left my hand numb, to be sure, but I wrenched the blade, left, and right, gaining advantage of the situation, until the man I kicked earlier tackled me from the side.
I dropped my axe on the way down, the bastard climbed on top of me, trying to choke me, but I was shoving at his hands, quite desperate to survive. But he stayed on, the swordsman urging him on. With strenous effort, I managed to push the man off me, shoving him to the side. I rolled over, and hurled myself up, propelling myself forward, using my head to crack against the side of the swordsmans knee, with my weight, and effort, the knee gave, and broke, a shard of bone stabbing upward through the skin, as the man howled into the night sky. The man I pushed off of me, was now on my back, pushing me down against the maimed man underneath me as I struggled up.
"Gon' kill ye now. GOIN' TO KILL YOU NOW!" he roared, his head poking over my shoulders as his arms wrapped around my neck. I dropped down, hearing a pained roar come from the throat of the man who was choking me. I scrambled forward onto my feet, looking back down at them, the star light illuminating the scene. The man who tried to choke me punctured his eye on the shard of bone, latching him on his comrade, who roared again at the sting of pain as his friend impaled himself against the bone.
Never knew so much blood can come out of an eye. But I'm learning..
The man tried to push himself up, but I stepped forward, stomping down on his elbow, breaking it. "Going to kill you now. Heh." I said finally. I lent down, sighing, "Let's see to the trees.
Hours later, far into the night, the men were maimed. Past the point of recovery. I made sure their limbs cracked and broke against the flat of my axe, or my boot. And now they've helped me tend two beautiful oaks. They yet live, groaning until a man, woman, either Southron, or merchant, finds them, or starvation takes them. I turned my back on them, as they begged for mercy.
I stepped back onto the road, stepping slowly across the small bridge just off the town. A smile spread across my lips, "For you." I said, raising a hand to gesture slowly along the hedge. I've never tended the trees so close to the road, but, all the same. Goatleaf opened the gate for me, but his eyes never left the dark red smear of crusting blood on my breast.
