A Public Service
Robert Van Dusen
A slow smile spread across the tall redhead's face when she spotted the handful of men riding away from the remains of the ruined tower house. A gleeful light came to Sarah's cerulean eyes. The structure was an ugly, tottering thing that looked like it would be swallowed by the surrounding fens when the next big storm hit. It had taken some time but it seemed that this was one of the hideouts of the notorious Fallwell Gang. The group of highwaymen and brigands had been terrorizing the area south of Mereno for the better part of a year now. She watched the rough men in their leathers and rusted mail plodding out through the knee high grass until she was certain they were leaving. The lithely built young woman then leaned back and swung gracefully down from the tree she'd been hiding in. The soles of her soft leather boots struck the sodden earth with a squish then she smoothed her long red hair away from her face, took a breath and walked quickly back to her horse.
She swatted a fly which landed on the front of her light green shirt, her lip curling into a snarl as she looked down at her boots. /=This had better be fucking worth it...=/ Sarah thought as she regarded the mud caked to her boots. Ruined. /=And I liked these boots, too...=/ The young woman hitched at the wide leather belt around her waist as she double checked that the horse was securely tied to the scraggly tree. "Good boy. I'll be right back." she told the big palfrey and gave the beast's muzzle a pat before turning back to face the ruined tower house at the bottom of the low hill about a quarter mile away.
Sarah paused a moment and made one last check of the many pouches on her belt which contained the tools of her trade. Satisfied, she made sure the long bladed daggers which hung at her hips were loose in their sheathes. She planted her hands on her hips, let out a gusty sigh then started carefully down the hill. The idea was, after she had managed to figure out where the Fallwells were hiding, she would sneak in and help herself to the loot the highwaymen had accumulated over the course of their rather nefarious careers. There were quite a few others in the area that wouldn't mind seeing the Fallwells taken down a peg or two as well and not all of them were the lord's sheriff either. And, well, it irritated her that these slobs who murdered people and rifled through their pockets afterward had the gall to call themselves thieves. It stank of low skill and dull minds to her. Sure, she was a thief but it wouldn't do in her opinion to let beasts like these lower the tone of the profession. She had standards, after all.
This was really more of a public service job than anything in her book. With a fortnight's work she could earn a few favors, put a thumb in the eye of some very unsavory characters and come away with a little extra coin in her purse so basically everyone wins...right?
A look of vague unease settled onto her features as she neared the bottom of the hill. The knee high grass between where she stood and the ruined tower house rippled like the surface of a calm sea when a sudden breeze kicked up out of the south. It really was a great place for a group of bandits to go to ground when they weren't brutalizing innocent people. She squinted and cocked her head slightly, sucking her teeth for a moment when she thought she could make out dark, stagnant water between the blades of grass. /=Well that explains the stink...=/ Sarah thought, scratching at the back of her neck for a moment as she considered the next course of action.
At a minimum the fens might be deep enough to risk losing a boot in the muck at the bottom. However trying to find the path the robbers used to get to and from their camp might take hours. If the Fallwells returned while she was hunting for the path... The young woman shook her head as if to try and force the idea out of her mind. To say the least the Fallwells weren't known for their chivalry no matter what the singers might say about noble outlaws. She'd known more than a few cutpurses, cutthroats and generally unpleasant sorts and none of them were anything they'd write a song about save if they died on some shining knight's blade.
Sarah made a face then carefully prodded the ground ahead with the toe of her boot. The mud was soft but perhaps not overly so... She frowned slightly then tried to get a better look at the ruins themselves. If the bandits had the sense to leave somebody behind to mind the camp they might be able to spot her if she kept standing around...