Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree

Pratik made it through the next four pods in the same manner: knock out the scout, kill the officers, retreat. He made sure to ride in a wide berth around the pods so that even if his horse decided to make noise it wouldn't give him away.

It took hours.

It was simple enough. But that didn't make it easy. He had to watch the camp long enough to figure out who was guarding -- figure out how to get close enough to knock him out without raising an alarm -- figure out who the officers were in the darkness and kill them, then retreat. All without a sound.

He decided to leave his horse between the town and the sixth pod so he wouldn't have to backtrack. He was getting tired. The snow was weighing him down and the cold made him ache to the bone. He sighed as he realized there were threats of dawn on the horizon. It was still dark, but it wouldn't be for much longer.

Pratik crept into the sixth camp. Same deal: knock out the scout, tie him up, move in to take out the officers. He took out the first, then picked his way over to the second. He had his blade hovering just over the man's throat when --

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Pratik stabbed the blade down, killing the officer, but whirled around. The scout had woken up and was screaming bloody murder. All the soldiers roused. Pratik stabbed two -- three -- four as he was rushing to the edge of the camp to be sure he didn't get surrounded.

A man rushed towards him, dagger raised. Pratik grabbed his arm and held it away from him, then brought his own dagger up and stabbed the soldier in the diaphragm. He coughed, sending a spurt of crimson onto Pratik's face and chest.

The next few minutes passed in a blur: hitting, slicing, stabbing. He felt like a madman. Here he was claiming to Ash he wouldn't be part of a bloodbath, and yet, it looked like he'd taken a bath in blood for the way it clung to nearly every part of him.

Pratik glanced around the camp, counting the bodies. Nineteen. Plus the scout, which was --

Pratik saw he'd gotten free and was now running for dear life. He couldn't allow that. That would make Pratik loose all the edge he'd just earned for the Reeve, if the boy got away to warn the others. The threw one of the blades in the belt around his chest, lodging it directly in the nape of the boy's neck. He crumpled to the ground.

Pratik shook his hands, sending sprays of blood off in both directions, and looked at the carnage around him. Complete nonsense. All of these clothes. Ruined. Maybe he'd demand a new outfit from Ash... at least his heavy coat wasn't ruined.

The dawn was properly breaking now.

Pratik rushed to his horse and swung himself up to the saddle, then galloped as fast as he could to the town. He didn't slow his horse until they were directly in front of the Reeve's estate, and then it was a sudden motion, him jumping off before the horse fully stopped moving.

"Veryl," Pratik growled as armed guards came rushing towards him. "Let me speak to your Reeve. His life depends on it."

The guards blinked at him, but they let him through with little resistance.

A commotion had erupted in the household when they saw Pratik, and Veryl and his husband met him in the front hall in their dressing gowns and thick fur robes.
Veryl was a tall, lanky man of about thirty-five with sad brown eyes similar to a dog's, and his hair and beard were a striking white. His husband had dark hair and a beard that reached his chest. He was quite muscular and stood at about 4'2.
"What the devil is going on?" Veryl demanded as he saw Pratik covered in blood. "Who are you? What do you mean by coming here, sir?" He had grabbed a dagger on the way down and now held it protectively in front of him.

Pratik didn't even try to hide an eye roll as Veryl approached him. He didn't need a measly reeve to like him, and wasn't going to pretend like he did.

"Loquitur is on your doorstep, they'll be here before the end of the day." Pratik wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands. They were still sticky with drying blood. "I'm sent by Ash, and you will lose your reeve if you don't get it ready for an attack. Now."

Veryl and his husband exchanged a look.
"Do you have a letter confirming Lord Ash's wishes?" he asked finally.

"Yeah, yeah, it's..." Pratik turned around, realizing he'd left the letter in his saddlebags. Outside. He huffed, then turned on his heel and pushed his way back through the guards and outside, to where a stableboy was holding on to his horse.

Pratik dug through his bag as gingerly as he could, to get as little blood on anything else as he could, then plucked the folded letter out and walked back into the house, holding it between two bloody fingers as he strode towards them. "Here."

Veryl took the letter, inspecting the seal carefully before breaking it and scanning the letter.
"Rodrick, please alert Captain Arnar and tell him to rally the troops," he said to his husband. Rodrick strode off.
"What did you say your name was?" Veryl asked.

I didn't.

"Pratik," he answered, not offering a last name. "I'm the man who warned Ash about this attack. I'm also the man who--" Pratik gestured vaguely behind him, not sure how he could even try to summarize how that night had gone. How many hours had it been since he'd slept? It had to have been nearing an entire day by now. "Is here to help you now. But I want to get washed off. And fresh clothes. And a hot meal."

"Of course, of course." Veryl made to take his shoulder to lead him away but thought better of it. He looked around and saw a passing made. He beckoned her over. "Make a room available and see to it that hot stew and clean clothes are brought to it," he said. "And draw a hot bath, please. Our guest needs to wash."

"Thank you," Pratik murmured, letting the servant whisk him away.

Their carelessness was a bit alarming. They hadn't even demanded he surrender his weapons. Had sent him with a maid instead of a guard of soldiers. It was no wonder this fool was nothing more than a reeve.

Pratik moved quickly. He was used to using his time wisely most of the time -- but especially now that there was information he needed to get to Veryl as quickly as possible. He got in the new clothes and scarfed down some stew, then asked a servant to take him back to Veryl.

The servant complied. Veryl was pacing in his study. Rodrick was with him, seated at the desk. Both of them looked up as Pratik entered.
"Explain further, please," Veryl said tightly. "What is going on?"

"Loquitur is planning to siege your reeve," Pratik answered calmly. "He sent ten pods of twenty men each to surround your estate. Last night, I took out the two commanders of each of the six pods already stationed to your north and west... the last one..." Pratik pulled a lip in disgust. "Went poorly. So that the entire pod has been taken care of. The others are still out there, commanderless. I suggest you send men to take care of the pods individually, they are no doubt realizing their commanders are dead about now and will be trying to re-organize themselves."

He ran his fingers through his damp hair, trying to smooth it down.

"There are four additional pods on their way up from the south as we speak. I don't have recent intelligence to know how near they are, but I would expect them to arrive by this afternoon or possibly tomorrow morning. You'll want to be ready to give them a worthy reception, no doubt."

Veryl nodded quickly. "Thank you for notifying us. I had no idea...gods, if you hadn't got here..."
"We'd be dead," Rodrick said gruffly. "You've got our thanks, sir. We'll mobilize as quickly as possible."

(would they have homing pigeons or something where Pratik could easily get a letter out?)

You should be thanking Ash. It felt weird accepting their thanks, when he knew fully well he would have kept the information to himself and let the villagers die, if Ash hadn't been willing to pay.

"Of course." Pratik inclined his head. "Anything that I can do to aid Lord Ash and his men."

(I stole from Game of Thrones. They use ravens O_O)

"Are you one of his agents?" Veryl asked, resting a hand on Rodrick's shoulder. "He said he was bringing in some skilled information-gatherers."

(ohoho)

"Something like that," Pratik agreed. "I don't expect I'll stay here long, just until we see how this conflict with Loquitur goes, so I can report back to Lord Ash... speaking of, do you have a raven I could use to send Lord Ash a letter? He asked that I let him know I arrived."