The village green had been made into a field hospital for the injured and dying. Apparently turning the sacred tree into a defensive feature was bad, but a place for people to die was absolutely fine.

What previously had been a large open space dominated by one large tree was now made useful, with tents and people churning up the perfectly green grass between the large roots. At the center sat the triage tent the healer had set up. At least half the mercenaries were injured and needed tending to.

She found the Mayor near the edge of the tents, surrounded by a group of people he was trying to keep calm. He was a big man with more fat then muscle, but Lyssa had seen him getting his hands dirty with village work, and knew he wasn't as soft as he pretended to be.

That was another thing that needed to change. People shouldn't have such easy access to the Mayor. Dralhond had more important things to do than reassure the masses. There needed to be a clear hierarchy of leaders, but she had a feeling that implementing that might be more difficult than cutting down the damn trees.

Lyssa’s gaze scanned over the group of people waiting to be seen by the healer. These were the ones who had minor wounds and could survive the wait to be treated.

Eventually she spotted Abi helping to stitch a minor wound on an arm. For once her curly hair was staying out of the way, because she had a green shawl wrapped around her head holding it in check. Her usual fidgeting was gone, and had been replaced by an intense focus that Lyssa never thought could be applied to Abi.

Nearby Kyla had joined the mayor in dealing with the hysterical civilians. It had been enlightening to see how the older woman dealt with these people.

The woman was after all an outsider, no matter how many years she had lived here. Even if her darker skin didn't mark her out in a crowd, her accent made it clear she had been born somewhere else.

Lyssa had seen people with her black skin much farther south, but had never heard her accent before. Despite her heavy accent she could switch between the dialects of Ghanda and Cahan very well.

The crowd around the Mayor dispersed, revealing the trader sat slumped on a wooden bench with her head in her hands, muttering something under her breath, as she watched the injured being treated.

Her long grey hair was still secured at the back of her head but more than a few strands were being blown by the wind, when they weren't falling down her shoulders to settle at her waist. Her dress was even more stained than the last time Lyssa had seen her, and now had splashes of blood.

Lyssa waited for the last villager to leave before she went and stood by Kyla.

“Any sign of more bandits?” Lyssa asked, despite knowing what the answer would be.

“No.” Kyla said. “Although I worry that they might be tempted with Trader Rithrin’s wagon here.”

“How long until they can travel?” Asked the trader, gesturing to the mass of injured mercenaries.

“It’ll be a few days, at least.” A man said as he approached them.

Lyssa recognized him as the healer, who she had briefly met days before, and who was now trying to organise their makeshift infirmary, while instructing people how to treat the injured.

He had short black hair and the stance of someone exhausted, but who had to keep upright. There was blood splattered on his shirt and trousers, but none on his hands. That was a sign of a good healer, one who knew enough not to spread disease around a camp.

“You’ll be able to pick them up on your way back.” The Mayor said.

“Way back?” The Trader sat up like someone had stabbed her.

“After you’ve delivered the rest.” He clarified.

“I’m not going out there, have you lost your minds?” The Trader shrieked and she gestured wildly to the forest.

That caught the attention of a few nearby villagers on guard duty. They eyed the forest nervously and shifted so they weren't as out in the open.

“You’re going to stay here forever?” Abi asked, appearing at Lyssa’s elbow.

The warrior had wondered when she was going to turn up again. It had been surprising she hadn’t been followed to the stables, but judging by the state of Abi’s clothes she had helped a lot more than stitching one arm.

“No.” The trader glared at Abi before turning back to the mayor and Kyla. “Tomorrow I’m going back the way I came and getting out of here.”

“With a lame horse?” Lyssa said, the contempt in her voice at the cowardice obvious.

That shut the trader up, but a look of despair came over her face and she was back to slumping over with her head in her hands. She’d need the cooperation of the village to go anywhere, and that meant helping them first.

“The other villages need those supplies for winter, we have to get it to them.” Abi said, her passion to help almost raising her voice to a shout.

Lyssa noted how Abi had said ‘we’, but now wasn’t the time to challenge her on where she thought she was going.

“We will help them but we have to take it one step at a time.” Kyla put her arm around her daughter. “The supplies just need to get to Marrolun and they can be distributed from there.”

“You don’t understand.” Rithrin said. She stood up and looked each of them in the eye. “I’ve never been attacked this close to the river before. The ambush usually comes further in, that’s why I have so many mercenaries for these trips. But it keeps getting worse.”

“I’ll escort you to the other villages and safely back across the river.” Lyssa promised.

“Thank you, but that doesn’t solve the problem of the danger. It’s becoming too high of a cost to come here every season. I’ve just lost a horse. Not to mention all the people.”

“We’ll give you two horses.”

“Kyla!” The Mayor said. “We can spare one horse. If the warrior is going then that massive creature can pull the wagon.”

“That is not a good idea.” Lyssa shook her head, trying not to laugh at the thought of Bouda tolerating being hitched to a wagon for days of travel.

“You can have our family horse as well.” Kyla said.

The Mayor sighed. “You don’t have to do that.” He turned to look at Rithrin. “Take two horses, and as long as one is returned we’ll call it even. Your horse should be healed by the time you get back.”

The trader looked as if her death sentence had been signed.

“We can take the wagon without you.” Abi offered.

“No!” The trader’s skin lost it’s last little bit of colour. “I’m not trusting any of you with my wagon or what’s inside. It’s all I’ve got.” She looked over at the injured mercenaries and her head guards being bandaged up. “Fine. I’ll do this one more time, but I can’t take this stress anymore.” She sat back down on the bench and clutched her chest.

The lead mercenary came over and put a hand on Rithrin’s shoulder while crouching down to check on her. He had long blond hair that was still fastened securely down his back despite the fight. The rest of him was a mess of torn clothing and streaks of dirt, but he seemed to be one of the few mercenaries who wasn’t injured.

He had a cutlass at his hip, and probably a few other weapons stashed about his person. There was a confidence to him that put Lyssa on edge. A fight with him would not be straightforward. If she had to guess she would say he had been a sailor, probably one of the Lasskae, judging by his pale but weathered complexion.

Behind him a bare chested man stood, his shirt open to display the bruising of the fight. His muscles were big, but he also had a naturally big frame that didn’t make it look like he was trying to overcompensate. His hair was cut short, bald at the sides, with only a strip of slightly longer black hair at the top.

At his waist a scimitar hung, and strapped to his back was a bow and full quiver of arrows. He had taken the time to clean his weapons and restock his arrows. He watched Lyssa as she studied him, before his gaze moved to take in the others and then the treeline.

The message was clear, they may be mercenaries, but they would stand by the trader if this turned into a confrontation. She might respect their loyalty but at the moment Hulna was under her protection, and if it came to a fight she would win. It wouldn't be an easy fight, they had been more than effective against the bandits, but she would win.

While the warriors were sizing each other up, the mayor and Kyla were whispering furiously at each other. They were trying to keep their voices down but unless they went inside it was a futile attempt to keep their disagreement secret.

“We can send three people with them.” The Mayor said. “That’s it. That’s all we can spare.”

Mayor Drulhond sighed as he allowed his exhaustion to show for a moment, but then pulled his shoulders back and straightened his spine as he strode off to the tents, and the next problem that needed solving.

“We have lost more mercenaries than just three.” The lead mercenary said. He was still standing in front of Rithrin, who was staring into space and lost in her own misery.

“We can’t spare more.” Kyla said. If he was expecting Kyla to agree with him then he was very mistaken. She may argue with the Mayor but she enforced his rulings. “The village and farms need to be protected, and we still need to tend to our fields so there can be a harvest.” Her tone was final and she arched an eyebrow as if waiting for him to challenge her on this.

“It will have to do.” He conceded and walked back to the tents, where the Mayor seemed to be arguing with yet more villagers. His muscled shadow followed him as if he was the blond’s bodyguard.

“Before we leave I need to see a map of the area and the route that you usually take.” Lyssa said, watching the trader haul herself to her feet, heave a sigh and walk away. Hopefully to find a map, but the warrior wouldn't be surprised to find her hugging a bottle of wine.

Lyssa turned to Kyla. “Who’s coming with us?”

“I already have two volunteers, and I have a feeling that we all know who’s going to be the third.” She smiled at Lyssa.

The warrior looked to where Abi had been standing. At some point she had left the area and Lyssa hadn’t even noticed. The warrior was more tired than she thought if one girl could sneak past her. Abi's coming and going unseen would be a very useful skill if she could keep the girl still long enough to teach her how to use it properly.

“She’s helping with the injured.” Kyla said, smiling as if she knew Lyssa's thoughts.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

If Kyla thought it was a good idea to let Abi go then Lyssa couldn’t really argue against it. She knew her daughter better than Lyssa did.