204
A wide road, the great Suhn Road, runs parallel to the river. You see a long line of men, women, and children marching slowly along the road away from the city like forsaken souls journeying towards their doom. Shadakine warriors walk up and down the line, brandishing their flails brutally.
‘Grey Star,’ says Urik, ‘I thought … There are others here in marsh. They … ’ Before he can finish, a wave of men pour out of the brush that lines the marsh and run towards the column of slaves with a roar, waving their swords above their heads. They wear veils over their faces, but otherwise share no common uniform.
The few Shadakine guards fall into defensive positions along the road, but the swiftness of the ambush prevents them from deploying effectively. Only a few of the veiled soldiers are felled by a volley of crossbow bolts before the Shadakine are beset by their attackers. ‘Shall we?’ you ask Urik. A broad smile creases his old face and he gives vent to a bellowing yell as he shambles out of the brush towards the fray as fast as his old bones will permit. You follow close behind.
