The first sign that there was trouble was when a troop of warriors galloped past, the man behind the leader carrying the pennant of a neighbouring, if friendly Baron. Tori felt a rattle of anxiety as they thundered by the carts. The cart driver seemed unconcerned, nor did the other passengers or those in the other carts which made up the convoy. Even the hired swordsman in the front one, only touched a crossbow at his feet, before relaxing as he saw that they were a Lord's men, not bandits. Tori forced herself down the momentary rush of tension, it was just some warriors, likely giving their horses a run and not caring if they temporarily worried some merchants. Once she would have trusted her instincts, but that was a long time ago and they were rusty.
The convoy continued to trundle along the road, bouncing over the bits which no man owned and none maintained, pausing briefly as they came to the border of another Lord where normally a toll was required. That was the second sign -- none of the guards were there, though the signs were they'd left hurriedly as there was still a half-eaten chunk of mutton sitting on the wall. The convoy leader, consulted hurriedly with the mercenary guard before urging the convoy on, though both seemed more pleased that they had avoided a few shilling toll than that the collectors were gone.
Tori tapped the small wooden chest on her knees, trying to tell herself her instincts were old and out of place --no-one else seemed worried. But there was still an ache in her stomach she couldn't still, a cold chill which no happy thoughts could warm. It had been a week since she'd been away, a trip with the other merchants to the Port of Hayrush, something they did four times a year to buy goods and materials not available in their small town, a trip none would risk on their own, but which was perfectly safe to an organised band [most of the time]. She had left her eighteen year old daughter, Sofy, despite her own misgivings -- she was now a teen and a number of the local ne'er do wells had their eyes on her, worse, she worried, was whether Sofy had her eye on them back. But the small farm and apothecary needed to run while Tori was away in the city and her daughter was now an adult and much cheaper than shutting the shop for a week and hiring a hand to look after the goats.
The wagon at the front suddenly stopped and that was when Tori realised her instincts weren't wrong. Beside the road lay a couple of corpses, a horse and it's rider, both had a number of dark arrows sticking from them, making it clear it was not an accidental fall that had killed them. From ahead she could hear the convoy leader and the mercenary talking, the warrior gripping his crossbow with one hand whilst loosening the sword in its scabbard with the other. Tori wished at that moment that she too was armed, but to everyone else she was a simple potion maker and part-time farmer, not someone who went armed, but a woman who relied on strong men to protect her.
The drivers were hurrying the carts along, fairly whipping the drays from a solid plod into a quicker gait. Tori understood the urgency, better to speed for the town and its walls, than hope that whoever had killed the rider had left. As they got nearer Tori began to smell the smoke, passing small homesteads and farms which had been burnt out, in many there were crows starting to settle over corpses; human and animals.
The fear in Tori's stomach was ice cold now, there were worse fates for her daughter than having a fuck in the hayloft with an overly horny apprentice. At least her farmstead was on the other side of the town, so hopefully whoever had attacked had come from this direction, giving her daughter time to flee to safety within the walls.
"Woah," the convoy leader held up his hand as they came out of the wooded area and could see the town of Holdaray. The walls were still standing and the only smoke which was over it came from the chimneys. Armed men were around it, but the pennants were off the local Duke and nearby friends. It would be hard to say Tori felt relief, not until she found Sofy, but at least it gave her more hope that Sofy was alive and unharmed. Some of the warriors had got on their horses and were galloping towards the convoy. Tori wasn't the only one dismounting and running to meet them, she knew at least some of the merchants had families in the farms they passed.
"What's happened?" "Is the town safe?" "Is the Duke here?" "What about the Carter farm?" "My wife was staying at her parents, over Gilling way, is that safe?" the man leading the warriors, who Tori thought was the Duke's cousin, was being peppered with questions even as he was dismounting.
He held up his hand to quiet them, "Big party of orcs, from the mountains. We got most of them east of Grangemouth a few days ago, but some split off and raided here. Not enough to take the town, but some of them hit some of the farms and villages before we got here." He shrugged and let another barrage of questions role over him, "They seem to be fleeing back, we're not going to follow them, they're no danger to Holdaray or anywhere else, but it wouldn't be fun chasing them in the forest. Anyway they're splitting up even more now, groups of six or seven warriors, hellish to track each group."
That was true. It had been a long time since Tori had dealt with orcs, they spent most of their time feuding in the mountains and caves away from settled lands, only coming down when population pressures and a uniting chieftain came together and offered them a brief belief they could win. They never did, scurrying back beaten and bloodied, a tenth or less of their original strength -- but before they did they raided and burnt and looted and... raped and killed.
"I need to get to my farm," she blurted to the Duke's cousin.
He shrugged and moved out of the way, as if he was blocking her. It wasn't what she had meant, but then she wasn't sure she knew what she expected them to do, it wasn't like an armoured warrior was going to lend a minor merchant, barely above a peasant, their horse. There wasn't much she could do, but mount the cart and encourage the driver on, luckily something he and the other passengers agreed on.
Once in the town dismounted from the cart and ran through the streets to the opposite gate. The town guards needed a little persuasion to open them, but after she agreed that leaving the town was on her head, they opened them and she ran out. It was a near three miles to the farm and she ran all the way, even quicker when she got nearer and her desperate cries weren't answered.
The farm was still standing and unburnt when she got there. Which was about the only good news. The chicken-coop was broken open and only a few chickens were still clucking about, the others either dead on the floor or gone. The goats were not much better, a few seemed to have been missed, but most had been butchered in the field. She approached the house, the door was open, hanging on one hinge with hammer marks embedded in the wood. Inside the pottery and broken furniture littered the kitchen, together with some blood. Forcing herself to remain calm Tori took in the scene trying to deduce what had happened, the orcs obviously had arrived, the blood was human, probably Sofy's, but there wasn't much of it, a small cut or wound and she wasn't here. That meant the orcs had taken her alive, that wasn't good, but much better than at least one alternative -- they also been rushed or they'd have stayed to burn the place down, hopefully that meant she was a prisoner and nothing else had happened.
Walking outside Tori looked around, there were tracks -- they could be followed, at least for the moment, though Goddess knew whether they'd remain so and it was a long time since Tori had practiced her tracking skills. It had to be at least three or four hours since the orcs left with Sofy and they'd be going fast, she needed to go faster.
