As the embryonic company headed down the east road towards the Marmarkan 'enemy', Mehmet explained some more of his knowledge of the history and legacy of the Qhal to the new recruits. Some knew of some of it and some didn't, but all seemed to be responding to his attempt to build a sense of belonging.
After a day's travel, the point-man (Denuon) returned to advise that he'd found the enemy army. They were marching up the main road, with two pairs of scouts half a mile ahead of the main body. Apparently, the force that had routed Bloodwind and Skywhite's companies had rejoined the main body, and there were now more than five hundred men moving towards the capital of Cormar.
Mehmet's idea was to take out the scouts, delaying and hopefully demoralizing the army, as well as reducing the quality of their advance intelligence. The opportunity to eyeball the force for more half-Qhal was also uppermost in his mind, and he made sure his followers understood that any such were to be captured, not killed.
Dividing their forces, Percinious led the three new recruits from Dorall's Company to take the rearmost group of scouts (nearest to the main body) while Mehmet, Skaven and Felion prepared to attack the point scouts. Cover here was very minimal, as the army was now travelling through farmland, but there were drainage ditches either side of the road, and bushes in more or less the right places or able to be moved to cover the waiting ambush. Hidden, the halfbloods waited for the scouts to pass.
As he waited, Nutbolter - with some trepidation - cast the Bladesharp from the matrix on Hadraes' hilt. After the last time, he was unsure what was going to happen; but in fact, there was nothing but the familiar arcane flow of a well-cast spell, and the gentle glow and light feeling of a normally enchanted sword. He relaxed a bit.
Crouched in the damp ditches, the halfbloods watched as the two groups of scouts walked towards them. Just a moment after they'd passed, Percinious rose from concealment, levelled his crossbow, and loosed a Multimissiled bolt. It glanced off the man's scale armour, dealing only a light wound, as the others opened up from different angles.
Ill-luck dogged Nutbolter and his followers today; all three of the soldiers from Dorral's Company proved incapable of placing an accurate arrow, and the whole initial volley flew wide; Losgar's helmet slipped sideways and jammed so badly on his head that he was incapactated for the rest of the fight. Felion and Skaven did rather better, but the only kill was made by Mehmet. Drawing the looted Archen bow for the first time, he loosed an arrow. An expert archer, he was familiar with the sounds normally made by an arrow; this was different. The shaft seemed to slide through the air, rather than tearing its' way like a normal arrow, softly, more quietly. This impression of gentleness lasted until the shot struck home, ripping through the scout's helmet to drop him to the roadway.
Missiles having been of limited success, the attackers drew weapons and charged. Mehmet's men overwhelmed their surviving foe almost immediately, and spent a couple of moments butchering the corpses to maximize the effects; Percinious' opponents took longer to down, and they had to flee immediately afterwards.
By now, the army was alerted, and glancing back, Percinious saw them reacting. One figure rose above the mass, clearly mounted on a horse, and was giving instructions to launch a pursuit. A dozen or so men were already running towards him, but his attention was rivetted, not by the pursuers, but by the figure giving the commands.
Almost half again the size of a normal man, and massively built, armoured in a barbaric mix of armours, the man sat a strong horse almost as it were some sort of toy. From under his heavy helm, long milk-white hair flowed. Half-Qhal at least, though heavier-built than any halfblood Percinious had ever heard of or met. Even at this range, the man's presence touched the watching halfblood; a daunting foe. Nutbolter turned and got out of there.
After several hours' fast travel, involving doublings-back, streams, cover, and other tricks of the ranger's trade, the hunters from the Marmarkan army were still on the halfbloods' trail, and their endurance was declining. An ambush seemed the only option, and Mehmet chose a small narrow gulch for his trap. The steep sides were only accessible from the far end, and he sent half his men up each side before himself pretending to have collapsed from his (non-existent) wounds at the far end.
A few minutes later, Marmarkan soldiers began to enter the gulch. They were dispersed, wary, alert, competent; a slightly better-equipped man appeard to be directing things. Nutbolter, crouched above, raised his eyebrows in alarm; there were only ten of them! Swiftly, he signed Losgar on one side and Skaven on the other to watch their backs for the missing ones.
Smoothly, Mehemt rose to his feet, drew the Archen bow, and loosed two arrows at the leader, watching him fall with satisfaction. From above, Nutbolter drilled another (better crossbow work than last time!) and wounded a third, leaving him sprawled on the ground clucthing his leg. Denuon, Felion and Torgga did equally well, and half the ten were dead or down before the rest reacted at all. Mehmet, another arrow readied, called on them to surrender. There was a moment's pause, and then the clank of weapons dropped to the floor.
Above, Skaven noted the missing Marmarkans beating a hasty retreat, clearly bearing the news back; he let them go.
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