[Child of the 7th Age]

All day the camp buzzed with activity as the slavers prepared for the coming raid. Blades were sharpened, neck collars tested, and hunting parties organized to ride out onto the surrounding plain and track down the few game animals that lived in the region so that a large group of slaves could be safely transported back to the southern plantations. Gurug slipped out at midday with instructions from Imak to spy on the slaves who were camped some six miles to the northwest. His task was a simple one: to see if the slaves were making preparations to leave the next day. If Gurug saw any indications of this, the slavers would attack that evening. Otherwise, they would take full advantage of the extra time and postpone their attack till the following night.

By the time Gurug returned and strode into Imak's tent, twilight had already fallen. Grey shadows bathed the ground, and the first stars were visible in the dusky sky. This passage of time, however, had done little to improve Imak's disposition. He was still fuming about his missing sword and had spent most of the day tearing up the camp and interrogating his men to be sure that one of his own had not used the tumult of the evening as an excuse to take it.

Glaring impatiently at Gurug, Imak barked out a series of questions, "What took you so long? I could have ridden there and back ten times. And the slave camp? What are they doing? Any sign of armed resistence or preparing to flee? Have you seen or overheard anything I should know?"

"Well, Captain, I had amazing luck. I wore old, tattered clothes and a heavy hood pulled down to conceal my face. I had no trouble approaching camp. The guards were young and inexperienced, and it was easy to slip through, even in daylight. For the most part I hid, but once or twice I actually walked among them."

Imak turned to Gurug and immediately snapped, "That was foolish. You could have been discovered. And I would not have bothered sending anyone to rescue your hide!"

"But there was no chance of that, sir. There are so many of them.....like sheep being led over a cliff. I kept my head down and asked no questons. They argue and fight. One hand does not know what the other is doing. It would be harder if they were a small, tight knit band. But with a mob of over sixty, they can not agree on anything. There's no signs of anyone preparing to leave."

"I am sick of this game," growled Imak. "I am sick of playing cat and mouse with these insolent slaves who come and steal my sword. But I am also not a fool. They are greater in number, and we could use that extra time to prepare. Tell the men we'll hold off now and attack tomorrow night, since the slaves are obviously going nowhere. Our men must redouble their preparations. Plus, as much as I love the sound of coins in my pocket, I've come to believe there's no practical way we can transport over sixty slaves back to the plantations. Let the men know there'll be fine sport after we take the camp. We'll kill off the old and feeble and anyone too young to bring a good price and then drag the others off."

Gurug was about to leave when Imak pressed him one final time. "Anything else? Did you see anything that looked strange? Anything I should know about?"

Gurug hesitated, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, before he responded, "Well, Captain, you said how some of them, at least the leaders, would have horses. That's how they got here to do their foul business. But I swear I saw no horses. and I don't see how they could have covered that ground so fast if they were on foot."

"Pah! So what am I to believe? What are you telling me?" growled Imak. "You just didn't look closely. The horses were probably tethered someplace nearby. All day, I've had riders of our own surrounding that slave camp to be sure that no one on horseback flees bearing my sword or tries to come here and rob from us again. Those horses are there, believe me. That is, unless you would have me believe we've been robbed by a band of ghosts or another party of travellers who are on a pleasaure trip across the Ash Plains. With all the trouble reported in Gorgoroth, only a fool would dare make the journey to northern Mordor. Now go. I'll keep a full five riders posted tonight outside the slave camp as well as our regular guard of two here so we can sleep and relax without fear of further mischief."

Not wanting to get into an argument he could not win, Gurug quickly conceded, "You're probably right. I just didn't look in the right place." Then he stepped outside the tent and brought the news to the other men, adding that it would be best if Imak had no visitors as their leader was immersed in planning the next night's attack. In actuality, despite the relatively early hour, Imak threw himself onto his bed and was soon snoring contentedly. Gurug spent a moment thinking about the horses. He was very sure he had searched the entire camp. But if the slave leaders weren't robbing the camp, then someone else had to be out here on the plain and, as Imak had pointed out, that wasn't very likely. He promised to himself that later in the evening he would personally patrol the perimeters of the encampment, searching for signs of other bandits. But then some enterprising fellow rolled out one of the two giant ale casks that had been lovingly stored away for a night of relaxation.

Gurug listened as he tapped into its contents and reassured the others. "Captain says we're safe. Five of our men are patrolling the outskirts of the slave camp, plus the two on guard here. We've had nothing but work and worry. So let's have a go at this. I could use a drink." All agreed with that cheerful pronuncement. Ale and conversation flowed freely and, amidst these revelries, Gurug quickly forgot his promise to search for another band of robbers.