Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [32]
She turned the horse expertly and reined it in for a quick stop as she looked back towards the fence. Giving into temptation, she dug her heels into the stallion's flanks and drove it towards the fence once more. The huge white creature seemed to lurch and then soar as it went over the fence, and once more, Nicole felt that moment of glory.
She wanted to keep going, keep jumping, as if the constant jumping would make the horse so great that it might sprout wings and fly. Yet, with the days getting longer, and the sun getting lower over her gloomy estate, she knew it was time to head for the stables. Hopefully it wouldn't start snowing for awhile, as she knew the weather always put a damper on her equestrian skills until spring.
The stallion snorted and pulled up of its own accord, taking a quick step backwards. Clinging to the reins, Nicole looked past the horse's head to the shadowy figure riding towards them across the park-like surroundings of her estate. It wasn't until she caught a glimpse of the rider and saw the gleam of the tell-tale bronze armour that she realized who it was, and was only too happy to dismount in order to formally greet her guest.
"G'day Pierce. What brings you to my humble estate?" she bowed low as his horse slowed, deliberately so and watched him blush and look away from her corset.
"Although uninvited, I was wondering if I might join you for dinner." Pierce dismounted and ignored Bartholomew's stomping hooves and vicious snort. "Its been awhile since I've seen you."
"Agreed." She smiled. "You've saved me from another boring meal with courtiers and relatives I don't even know."
Bartholomew pawed the ground and Nicole's stallion backed away and kept its distance. Why Bartholomew was being so hostile was beyond Pierce, but he paid the horse only scant attention as he took Nicole's arm in his and headed towards the manor.
"Well, ye certainly look lost!" cackled a deep voice.
Chev leapt to his feet, longsword posed at the shadows surrounding his timy campfire in the midst of the burnt out castle. Nothing should have been able to sneak up on him. He blinked his eyes, recalling that he had been quite content staring into the fire and listening to its crackle. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard to sneak up on him afterall.
The figure of a farmer bearing a pitchfork came to the edge of the fire's light and levelled the fork at Chev. "Be ye friend or foe?"
The warrior sheathed his blade and sat back down, allowing himself a quick smile. "Neither, for I hardly know you," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the farmer.
The farmer cackled and came closer, revealing his face in detail. He was moderately handsome, despite several days worth of beard and an overly large nose. Tall and lean, the peasant walked past the warrior with a firmness that unnerved Chev.
"Wall, lets see 'ere!" said the farmer, planting his fork in the ground beside him as he sat down across from Chev. He inspected the spit of roasting meat that lay across the fire. "Smells like duck! May I?"
"Help yourself old boy," Chev replied, again with a smile as he regarded this somewhat charming farmer.
The farmer promptly drew a rusty knife from his belt and carved off a chunk of meat which he ate with his bare hands. "Ye certainly are hospitable to a complete stranger! Most strangers around here get snarly and act like they know everything. It comes from living so close to the Sea Caves. The influence of the damned drow in there bring out the worst in people!" he said after several bites. "Ye got a name?"
"Chev."
"Chev! Why I reckon I know that name!" the farmer exclaimed and for a moment Chev was afraid he'd have to kill this charming fellow, but the farmer sat deep in thought as if trying to recall some long lost memory.
"Chev," the farmer muttered to himself. "Wasn't that the name of a fighter around 'ere parts?"
The warrior smiled and decided to play along with the farmer. "I was named after him."
"A good name