"Over there! Over there! To the right! To the right! Brigands!" the chief drover yelled, pointing his spear in the direction of ten mounted men heading their way. The drivers started to form the camels into a circle to reduce the area they had to defend, some trying to get the animals down onto their knees, others more intent on brandishing their spears.

The brigands galloped towards them, speed being one of their common terror tactics. One of them, he carrying a hunting bow, shot a driver with an arrow to his right shoulder. A robber, brandishing a sword, made directly for Valhman who, out of nerves, fumbled trying his best to draw his own weapon. The brigand demanded the merchant hand over his money pouch whilst at the same time raising his sword as if making to strike.

Meantime, the chief drover rode around trying to fend off the attackers with his spear, a vicious looking bandit knocking him from his horse, he clearly sustaining a gash to his head.

Sweating, feeling like he imagined a wild animal did just before it was skewered, Valhman tossed his moneybag and frantically scanned about. He noticed that the lone rider was now only some two hundred strides away and was removing his riding cloak, throwing it across the back of his grey packhorse. To the merchant eyes, it looked like the stranger was already coated in dried blood. Watching, he saw the man place a hamlet on his head, lift a shield that had been slung on the packhorse and grasp a lance before kicking his great white charger into a gallop. The bandit archer fired at the incoming rider who, at the last minute, deflected the arrow by an expert flick of his shield. The man in red charged on, his lance point striking the bowman in the right shoulder before he could fire again, he screaming as he was ripped open and knocked off his horse.

The rider kept coming, faster and faster. Another brigand galloped forward to meet the attack but he was no match and the mysterious stranger's lance went through the bandit's left cheek, the point bursting out of the top of his skull, evidently trapping the weapon, for the red rider let go of it. Valhman was thrilled at the sight, gawping as the rider swiftly lifted a battleaxe that was hanging from one of the horns of his roman-style saddle and headed towards the other brigands. The bandit clutching Valhman's money pouch, who appeared to be the leader, shouted to his men to retreat and attempted to ride off.

"After that cur! He has my money!" Valhman hollered, hoping the mystery warrior could hear.