Free Balestone by Toby Neighbors Page A

might hurt some innocent people along the way. Bu’yorgi has to pay for what he’s done, perhaps some of his closest men — but not the entire group.”
    “I respectfully disagree.”
    “This isn’t a war, Rafe. These people raid — it’s part of their culture.”
    “No, poisoning each other isn’t what they do. It isn’t the Hoskali way,” Rafe said, repeating the words they had heard from Te’sumee so often. “Bu’yorgi led his troops into a battle and lost. Then he retaliated, risking the lives of the entire tribe. For all we know we may find a field full of corpses over there.”
    Rafe pointed to where the sick Hoskali had been laid out by Olyva.
    “And if we do, we’ll reconsider our plan, but for now, we subdue them. And they’re hunters, not troops.”
    “I don’t see the distinction,” Rafe said.
    He wasn’t really angry with Tiberius or their plan, but sitting and waiting was difficult. He had learned patience in the earl’s war band and had even risen steadily through the ranks, but waiting on fight was aways difficult. He was anxious, and even though most of the raiders would be easily captured after Tiberius cast a sleeping spell, there was always the chance that one or two might not. In that case, Rafe was there to protect his friend.
    They watched from within one of the abandoned tents as the raiders ate and drank. Rafe’s belly rumbled with hunger, and his mouth watered at the sight of great hunks of meat that were being sliced up and passed out to the raiders.
    As the night slowly passed, Rafe tried to nap but he was too wound up. The tent was dark, and there was little chance that they would be seen, but Rafe spent most of his time keeping watch just the same. Tiberius slept, and Rafe waited as long as he could stand. The fires were burning low, and the raiders who weren’t on guard duty sat in small groups.
    “I think it’s time,” Rafe said, shaking his friend awake. “Things aren’t going to get any better than they are right now.”
    Tiberius stretched and yawned. Then he began to chant a spell. Rafe watched anxiously. The restless raiders soon began to yawn, and in a matter of moments, every raider in sight was asleep.
    “That was the easy part,” Tiberius said. “Let’s go.”
    They crawled out of the tent and hurried over to a pile of plunder that Tiberius had seen the night before. There was a large coil of rope there, and Rafe cut sections of rope while Tiberius tied up the sleeping raiders. It was not quick work, but they were diligent, and soon nearly half of the enemy warriors were bound hand and foot.
    “Let’s move on,” Tiberius said.
    Rafe had his sword ready and the large bundle of rope around his free arm. Tiberius moved forward and stopped behind a tent where he could see several more groups of men. He began chanting softly. The groups were soon asleep and bound.
    “Now the sentries,” Tiberius said.
    Rafe only nodded and followed his friend. So far, the work had been easy, but the sentries would not fall asleep easily. They were standing up and would fight the magical fatigue as long as they could. They might even leave their posts to go in search of relief or raise the alarm when they realized they were unnaturally tired.
    “You ready?” Tiberius whispered.
    Rafe smiled. His friend chanted softly, and Rafe watched as the sentries began to sag. They were all strong men, but after a few moments, several had dropped to the ground in sleep.
    “Attack!” someone shouted.
    Rafe rose to his feet and whirled with his sword at the ready. Bu’yorgi had come crawling out of a tent and had seen Rafe and Tiberius lurking in the shadows. There were four sentries still on their feet. They all turned and started toward the camp. Tiberius’ chanting grew louder.
    “You devil!” shouted Bu’yorgi. “Wake up, fools! They have returned. Wake up and fight.”
    He was slashing at the bonds that held his men, but Tiberius had wrapped the grassy rope around each