The Orb in the Sword: Chapter 7	Copyright 1998,
	-------------------------------	By Ben Christie.
					All Rights Reserved.

	Smoke rose into the sky from over the hills and
Trakt immediately thought the worst: the troops had beaten
him to the village and all hope was lost. Cursing his luck
and rushing over the rise, he gazed. A fire burned with
extreme intensity in the center of a small camp in an area
that had been cleared among the waist high grass. No one
was within view, but a horse was tied outside one of the
tents. He watched the flames dance in the fire pit. The camp
hadn't been there a few months ago when he had visited the
croc village. Trakt scanned the camp from the hill. Three
tents were pitched on the other side of the fire pit. A few
loose weapons stood in the dirt next to them: a broad
sword, several spears, a Miayt shield and a few crudely
fashioned arms. Finally, farther from the tents, but close to
the fire were shackles attached to a wooden post firmly
planted in the ground. With a camp like that it was hard not
to mistake them: slave pirate.
	Trakt frowned. While in a tavern at Cyrottweil
before he left for the King's assignment, he overheard some
of the townsfolk speaking of slave pirates in the region, but
he'd never before seen a camp. Everyone who traveled out
beyond the city walls were told descriptions of the pirates'
camps, but few had actually seen them. It was said that the
many missing children were the result of slave pirates come
collecting in the area. They were known to steal the young
from towns and villages, then sell them as slaves in
Kingdoms father away. Even Cyrottweil had fallen victim to
their kind and Trakt had recalled seeing teenagers and
children sold in the market place. It disgusted him, but had
become commonplace among large Kingdoms.
	Someone emerged from a tent. Trakt couldn't make
him out very well, but he could tell he was of feline origins.
He was a gray furred, skinny fellow and looked grimy. From
what he could tell, the cat wore an unbuttoned vest and
brown pants, one leg ripped off and the other half gone. The
feline poked the camp fire, looked off into the western hills,
then returned back to his tent. Trakt was relived he didn't
look over his way.
	A cloud of dust formed from the west moving
swiftly towards the camp. It was two horses, one ridden by
a bigger, dark furred feline and the other by an impressive
tiger. The horses stopped at the camp and the riders
dismounted. Trakt could hear them howling and screaming,
but couldn't make out any full words. The bigger feline
pulled a large, brown bag from the back of one of the horses
and set it down next to the post. The group hollered some
more one of the tiger drew his knife. He sliced the rope
holding the bag closed and slide it's sides down. A young
female crocodile, tied and gagged, emerged from inside.
The smaller cat quickly shackled her to the post and then
hollered again with the others. The tiger stood back as the
other two waved their knives around in her face as she
turned her head away.
	Trakt looked down upon the camp in shame,
watching the savage display before him. His first instinct
was to draw his sword and rush to her aid, but a second
glance he realized that wouldn't be the smart thing to do.
Slave pirates were known to be dangerous and well handled
when it came to combat. A one man assault on their camp
during the day would prove fatal for most. Trakt looked
around the hill he watched from. Father to his right, a tree
had fallen and only the hollow log remained. It was
concealed beneath several rocks and underneath another
tree. It would provide adequate cover for him where he
could rest until night fell on the valley, and then, under the
cover of darkness, he would enter the slave pirates' camp.