The man that came (or rather crawled!) wiped his brow, sand, sweat and his black hair stuck to it in a foul mess. He could not speak as the heat had taken his voice, the only thing leaving his throat was a croaking noise, something that may have been not alike to the laughter of a madman perhaps, that had lost all ability to speak. They brought him to the camp and when he was given water he drank deep and greedily from it, he had emptied an entire leather flask and then before they could ask anything he fell asleep.. Leaving both watchers confused and pondering..
“ Berthold.. " the man whimpered as he had awoken and looked upon the company, afraid and thin from starvation. " I ran away.. from the Dark men, that had taken me for longer than I can remember! It was with great luck and I received only the loss of one eye in exchange for my freedom.” And so he spoke of his tale. In decency they fed him what meagre offerings they could yet, such as water, tough waybread , yet no more than this. Tunaraz laid his powerfull hand on the man's shoulder and eagerness beamed from him. "Have you seen a maiden with oaken hair? Fair is she and full of wit and impressive to behold! She bears a single mark on her neck and.." The man nodded.. "New slaves have been brought, all folk of our homeland.. I do not know if the maiden you seek is there, but I had heard the wailing of women and the roaring of men. I doubt they would still follow me, likely thinking me dying of thirst here in this horrible landscape and taking joy from it. Either so or they are coming..and you will find their little fort."
Berthold then continued to speak of a local fort that served as a trading outpost of the area and the woe in his face was clear as more words rolled from his dry tongue. Of wooden palisades and two towers on either side of a thin gate of dry wood, with deep pits dug by slaves around the walls he continued. Within there would be many tents.. some larger than others and many cages where the punished slaves were laid in, to suffer the heat without water or clothing.
And the company was in wonder, for there would likely be many of those eastern men, capable with the sword, bow and other weapons of cruel make and as they thought of this, a party of slave-catchers came running in, garbed in thick robes of red , gold and brown to cover themselves from the sun, and the steeds they rode on were small yet served their purpose with great speed. It was only by the sheerest of luck that the Northmen were not seen from afar. For the sun was cruel that day and it’s light forced men to watch through squinted eyes less they would risk blindness. (It partly also was the reason for Harwari and Ulfrid not to notice Berthold as he approached.) Nonetheless they drove their steeds over the hill behind which the company had chosen to make camp to have atleast some shade and before they well realized it, they were met by iron and wood! Harwari swung his club for the rider nearest to him and in the act, the rider’s leg bent in an angle it should not, with a howl of pain the man fell from his horse.. his howling ending with a final blow to the neck.. The other riders fared no better, for they were as surprised as the Northerners and their horses threw them off as spears and angry warriors came to them! It was a short skirmish.. And the company sighed relieved, yet still one horse managed to escape them and they cursed, for it would likely go to it's home and alert any men... A young man spoke, "Well.. atleast this journey will finally become eventfull will it not?".. Upon which an elder man cuffed him behind the ear for his foolish remark..
(continued on part 4)
