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The Bow of Haladan Part III
Kyle walked across the bloody field with spear in hand. The
guards auxiliaries were always given the dirty work, the Commandants
Own couldn't soil their fingers with such duty, but when the grappling
hooks and scaling ladders were passed out, it would be the auxiliaries
who would be first to charge the wall.
The knights had done a thorough job. He'd seen Matholwch, dressed
in the black and white colors of the Duchy, ride off at the head of two
hundred armored knights. They'd swept the field clean and the tale being
told was of Matholwch's single handed fight against their leader, a
huge ogre whose head now decorated a pike, the body was being dragged
off behind a cart.
Kyle leaned on his spear and watched as Giffard the Ox, the
strongest man in the company, threw another goblin body upon the wagons
bed. Nearby a trench was being dug, his squad used pick and shovel as
often as spear and sword, though not as well. The soldiers grumbled at the
task. As the oerth was moved the dead were dumped in with curses and
kicks, then the dirt thrown on top to form a burial mound. A priest
was overdue to bless the ground and cast the spirits of the dead
from the field on which they died.
The orcs and goblins were stripped of armor, searched for coin,
and a pile of debris formed next to the stack of butchered corpses. Two
sergeants, Osbern and Nigel, cast a proprietary eye over all that had been
looted from the dead, and were busy haggling with a trader come ahead to
buy the weapons, shields and bits of armor left abandoned on the
battlefield.
"That ogres hide is worth gold not copper, Master Trader."
Osbern grumbled.
"In Greyhawk no doubt." the trader, a gray haired and bearded
portly man, clicked his tongue. Beside him stood a fair haired youth
who noted down the numbers the trader said. He scratched away at a
sheet of wax held in a metal frame, he had a stack of such held together
with a chain to form a type of book. "Dinet, write this down, one
ogre with damaged hide," the trader turned to the sergeants and
held out a hand, "look at that great rent, and all those cuts,
you've taken the head for yourself, that is the most valuable part."
the trader moaned.
"How much?" said Osbern.
"I'll have to hire a tanner." the trader went on.
"How much?" Nigel chimed in.
"These wizards want them fresh, there goes the best prices."
"How much!" both sergeants said together, their voices rising,
losing patience with the game.
"Five silver." the trader said.
"Twenty." said Osbern.
"No more than ten, it's the best I can do" said the trader. He
turned away and nudged the piled weapons with his foot.
"How much all told?" Asked Nigel.
"Fifty Silver." the trader quickly said and feigned indifference.
"Fifty!" Osbern roared. "There are at least a hundred swords and
knives in there." he pointed to the pile.
"Yes, crude orc and goblin work. The best of it has already been
picked clean. And what of the Gnollish bows? Those I would pay you for in
gold."
"The knights and squires have all those." said Nigel. "They'll
loot the dead same as us if the value's high enough."
"Fifty." said the trader. "Come, come, gentle sirs, I should
not buy these at all. This is just the first of many victories, I do not
doubt. Orc weapons, hah! Soon you will be looting giants hoards."
"Seventy-five." demanded Osbern, but without conviction.
"Sixty then," the trader said and offered out his hand.
"Done." said Osbern, and Nigel agreed.
"Dinet. Sixty silver paid out, mark it down and go call for the
wagon to come up." the trader eyed the ogres corpse. "Can you have
some of your soldiers help us put that in the wagon?" the trader asked.
"Sure." said Osbern with a smile. "For five silvers."
"Dinet, have my daughters come along, and tell them to wear old
clothes, this ogres blood will stain." the trader smiled, the sergeants
would not get a copper more.
* * *
(To Be Continued...)