laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

Sceva rode quietly along the road, absorbed in thought and prayer. The last few weeks had been full of ups and downs, from the joy of Sir William’s return to his estate in Ruse, to the grimness and violence of the siege and eventual fall of Dobrich, to the relief of surviving the battle and evacuation. The flight from Dobrich had been especially hard, considering how few people had escaped. He felt an unexpected, but familiar tingle race up his spine as a quiet voice came to his ears.

"This same struggle is taking place all over the world. It is to your credit that so many escaped Dobrich alive. Without your group’s help, there might have been no survivors at all. Many other cities have not been so lucky."

The knight only stared at his tanned, leathery hands on the reins. "Sometimes it’s hard to accept that our role was simply to save a few score out of the hundreds that were there. It still feels like failure."

"Failure is not to be determined by human reasoning," the unseen figure explained. "Elminoir sees in you more than 25 years of dedicated service and the way you’ve blazed a trail for the other knights that followed in your footsteps. Even if you had all fallen in Dobrich, and the entire city with you, She considers you, and the group, a success."

Sceva sighed, thinking of the women and children that had perished. He grieved most over the suffering and death of the children, a feeling that he found grew stronger in him as he grew older.

"There will be other children that you can save," his friend reassured him. "In fact, sooner than you think. Your skills are needed up ahead."

As the aura of the champion’s presence faded, Sceva topped a rise to find two wagons beside the road, their draft horses lying dead. Though he couldn’t see all of the steeds, those he could see bore gaping wounds from bladed weapons. He stopped and held up his hand to signal a halt to the group. He quickly cast a trio of spells, enhancing his senses to better explore the scene without moving. As he scanned their surroundings for the sounds, smells, and other signs of others in the area, Lericanin, Alister, and William approached him and saw the reason for the halt. Alister, upon seeing the horses and their wounds, grew very quiet with smoldering anger.

"I don’t sense anyone nearby, so it doesn’t appear to be a trap," he announced to the others. "I’m going to check the wagons."

The other knights dismounted also, and the four of them cautiously approached the two wagons. All five horses had been brutally slain with swords. Behind the horses lay the bodies of several people.

"Take a look at this," Alister called out. On the opposite side of the road, close to the tree line, he knelt next to the body of a dog. It lay in a grotesque, unnatural position, covered with claw marks and dried blood. In one place, the assailant’s handprint could still be seen as an indentation among what had once been the ribcage.

"No human has that kind of strength," William said quietly.

The group moved back toward the wagons, where they checked the dead for clues. It didn’t take long before Sceva stood and faced his companions solemnly.

"I know what did this," he announced. He looked at Lericanin and pointed his index and middle fingers into the side of his neck. Sure enough, Lericanin found small, neat pairs of puncture wounds on the neck of each victim.