Suprise, Suprise.

[The Telcontarion]

Surprise, Surprise.

The sky, was a mild blue grey in the early morning, and was quiet and still with the light smell of due on grass and though not uncomfortable, it was a bit chill. Not even the birds where chirping. The only sounds were that of the shoed hooves of the horse and the sighing leather of the saddle and stirrups, as the horse made it’s way down the path through the forested countryside with it’s lone companion and rider. It had been thus far an uneventful morning; things however were about to get interesting.

Along the path on either side were men waiting to way lay the stranger. Yet he knew they were there, though the dense thickets and trees hid them. The lone rider came to a narrow stretch of the path just before a turn which made it’s way between two hillocks, densely forested; a perfect spot for an ambush. As the rider approached, two highwaymen on horses leapt out in front of him with swords drawn, each from either side of the path, followed by two bowmen on foot with arrows set to string and firmly aimed at the stranger. The stranger stopped, observed the men in front of him briefly and then turned in his saddle to look over his shoulder to see another highwayman-though he did not need to, for he knew he was there-on his way down the path behind him; he turned back to face the men before him.

At first they were very grim indeed to look upon, but now seeing the trap set they were grinning gladly. What a trap it was too, no way to get around them. If not for the horses, the hillocks to either side and before him would make him a slow and easy target if he dared escape that way and turning around was futile as the other behind him had a lance in his hand and looked like he knew how to use it. He would need only to charge and whether the lone stranger was an experienced warrior or a hapless victim-which no doubt he seemed to them-he would end up impaled or knocked off his horse, with a few broken ribs if he was lucky, depending on whether the lance was bladed or no. On any other day it would be a good trap, a perfect trap, but not today.

Now confident that the stranger comprehended his predicament the lanced horseman trotted up, keeping slightly behind his victim, and said “Now now, come, you have made no sign, which is strange for a man in your position, but be not a brave fool and loose your head, you know what this is, you can start by throwing down your weapons…”

“ Yeh and then you can get off that horse of yours,” said one of the bowmen, interrupting, drawing a glare from the lancer who by now the lone traveler had guest was the leader.

“And what a fine horse it is too,” said one of the mounted. The other horseman let out a low whistle in agreement and started “I dare say I could…”

“Shut it, you fools,” the lancer snared, for he had eyes only for the this stranger who even now has not moved or spoken at all, not even to parley if not to plea for his life. He was not as confident as he had been or as his companions are; he was their leader for a reason, and no fool. Even so, he believed that this stranger was a brave hearted idiot, and would get himself killed as likely, but could take one or even two of them with him before he was cut down; the lancer did not want one to be him.

“I am not getting off my horse,” said the lone traveler pulling down his hood. For he was in a hooded cloak with a staff in his right hand. He was an old man whose head was bald and shiny at the top, but with shoulder length hair at the sides and a long beard. He had a coronet upon his brow with a blue stone in its center.

“So you wish for it hard then, I will make no play with you!” said the lancer dropping his lance and pulling out his sword, “ this is on your head!”

With that he swung his sword in a vicious and powerful arc aimed at the head of the traveler. Just before the sword made contact with the stranger’s head, several things happened at once. The air seem to grow thick, the air around the strangers head seem to shimmer and meeting some unseen force, the sword flew from the attackers hand, sending a painful shock, starting from his hand, threw his entire body. Then the force emitted outward from the stranger knocking the men on horses and the bowmen who stood by, several yards away. On the ground groaning from injuries sustained from the fall, the highwaymen’s eyes were wide with fear, because they had no doubt, that they had made a grave mistake. Their hapless victim was not so hapless after all. For surely that was magic that was just loosed upon them, which meant that this man (or demon) who now sits calmly upon his horse, his hair flowing lazily with the wind, is a sorcerer or wizard of some kind. As the realization of this sunk in as they lay there, faces pale with terror, they had no doubt that they were about to die.

“Please don’t kill me…” said one of the bowmen suddenly, still wincing in pain from his injuries, “aaah…by the spirits pleeaase!”

“Don’t kill you?” the stranger said, “and why not?” Raising his hand and spreading his fingers, the man who was pleading for his life was lifted gently into the air.

As if this was the last stroke the rest of the men ran or limped for their lives, as fast as they could into the foliage, for none doubted that this was their final hour; none, save one.

The lancer stood there alone, terrified to be sure: his face pale, sweating generously, and looking like his knees were just about to give out. His jaw had a stubborn set to it though; it was rather puzzling to the traveler, as he could not now guess what the man was about. The lancer took a glancing look at the man floating in the air, who was now so terrified that his eyes were starting to roll back into his head and was on the verge of passing out. Seeing this the lancer frowned, looked directly at the traveler, took a gulp and said, “Put my brother down, demon!”

Outwardly the traveler’s expression did not change, inwardly he thought, brother? Even as a thief and a cold blooded murderer undoubtedly this man is, at least there is still enough compassion left in him to be able to show this much concern for a sibling; there may be hope for him yet. Aloud the stranger said, “Surprise surprise.”