“Brin told us the gates to the outpost are normally kept open,” said Gryrne as he continued his story.

He and Rial had moved away from the fire as others did the reverse, gathering around its heat as the warmth of the first sun dissipated. The moon would cast a twilight over the village until the next day, but the shadows of the forest around them left the cleared areas floating in a sea of black. The two of them sat on a fallen tree on the edge of the darkness, hidden from the crowd by the peaked walls of the Family compound.

“When we arrived the gates were closed, with lookouts scattered around the walls. I didn’t think much of it.”

Gryrne toyed with a fallen branch as he spoke, repetitively thrusting it into the dirt.

“It was the same when we left. The gates were closed, and as soon as we got them opened and were out they were hurriedly shut behind us. After hearing Brin’s conversation it really unsettled me, and I think affected the others too. We walked at a fast pace, far faster than we had on the way down. It was clear something was wrong.”

Rial remained quiet. His friend had more to say.

“The outpost is on a flat plain. Oh, there’s trees and bushes, but sparse and spread-out. We were taking the same trail we had on our way down, a path of trodden earth that I think maybe only our people take.

“They were waiting further up the trail, sitting around in plain sight. Brin spotted them quickly, and led us off the trail and across the grasses, but the men moved across to block our path. They hardly looked at us, just sat back down and lay around talking amongst themselves.”

“What did the others think?” asked Rial.

“I don’t think they understood what was happening, at first. Brin led us back onto the trail from our brief detour, but the men matched our path. We stopped, and Brin spoke with the other adults of our group.”

Gryrne was lost in the memory, not noticing his unconscious separation of himself and the more senior members.

“They came to some kind of a decision, and Brin and Eselwol went ahead to speak to the men. They made us stay behind, with the other adults.”

Rial could imagine the scene. Divided into five families, the village sent an experienced person from each on the trek to the outpost. The rest of the members were almost always those youths entering adulthood, save at times when the number of those coming of age was too few to transport the village goods. This had not been one of those times, though the group was small, which meant that with Brin and Eselwol gone there would be only three knowledgeable people watching over two dozen confused and frightened wards.

"I don't know what they said up there, but over the next few minutes their words got more and more heated. It was difficult to see exactly what was happening, and then all of a sudden one of them was on Eselwol, smacking him to the ground. I saw Brin draw his sword, and then... everything moved so fast."

Rial had never heard his friend's voice choked with emotion before so it took him a few moments to realise that was exactly what he was hearing.

"Our attention was on what was happening up ahead. We were so stupid we didn't notice the men creeping up from behind. They would have been easy to spot, had we just looked!"

He sighed.

"But we didn't. It was the man from the tavern, along with some others. They were stood behind us, and each of them had swords. We... I... folded. Instantly."

"And Brin?" asked Rial.

"He was still fighting when the pox-scarred man called out to him. The man had his sword to Tamarla's throat. That stopped Brin."

Gryrne turned his head to look at Rial, and some trace of his usual self returned.

"Brin had sent 4 of them to the ground already! It’s true what they say, he's an amazing fighter! Those bandits might have swords, but they don't have any skill in using them."

"What happened to Tamarla, Gryrne?"

Gryrne's face fell once more.

"It was her they wanted; they'd seen her in the market. Apparently there are traders in people, Rial. Can you imagine? Brin says he'd heard of them, but never anywhere around here. They took her, and stabbed Eselwol when he tried to stop them."

"They killed him?" said Rial, shocked.

"He went mad when he realised what they were trying to do. Cut two of them down before the others overpowered him. But no, they didn't kill him. He's recovering in a shelter at the base of the pass; we'll meet him when we head back."

"Head back?"

"The men told us they had only come for Tamarla, but now that we... or rather Brin and Eselwol... had injured or killed 6 of them, they would take 6 of ours. They say... they say we can buy them back."

"Buy them back? With what?"

"I'm not sure. The gang leader said we should bring anything of value we can find, and he’d judge who we could buy back."

“How much do you think we need to get everyone back?”

“I have no idea. I suppose that’s what they’re talking about in there.”

They both looked up at the slanted roof of curved tiles that hung beyond the wall, lit from below by the lanterns that filled the courtyard inside. The gurgles of the stream that flowed through it was all that could be heard, the peacefulness of the scene belying what must be occurring within.

Gryrne turned back to look at Rial.

“And it’s not everyone, they said. They say we can only buy the 6 back. Tamarla is going to be sold elsewhere.”