Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li - Brian Pratt [125]
Suddenly from the north, horns begin sounding. From behind them, horns can be heard answering them. Topping a hill, they look to the north. James hears Fifer gasp beside him when he sees a force of riders approaching, with some foot soldiers mixed in. A force over twice the size they’d seen break off from the pursuing army earlier. “I guess we know where those riders had been going,” James says.
“Yeah, to get reinforcements,” adds Jiron.
They watch as a large contingent of horse and foot begin entering the hills from the north. Numbering over a hundred horse and three times that number of foot, James realizes their plan may have worked too well.
“No more piddlefarting around,” he says as he turns his horse due east. “Let’s get the hell out of here!” The others follow as he rides down off the hill and begins racing through the hills.
They go no more than half a mile when a road appears between them as it makes its way eastward. Coming onto the road, they’re able to increase their speed as they fly toward the mountains.
From behind them, they continue to hear the horns of the two armies calling to one another. Scouts can be seen behind them from time to time as they crest hills in order to better direct the pursuing armies.
Up ahead of them in the road is a cart drawn by two mules, making its way toward them. Without stopping, they swing around it and continue down the road. The driver glances over his shoulder at them as they quickly disappear around the next hill. When he turns back, he’s startled to see the hills beginning to swarm with the Empire’s forces as they close in.
“Maybe this idea wasn’t so smart!” James hollers over to Jiron as they race along the road.
“It worked though,” he replies. “They’re definitely not heading toward Lord Pytherian now.”
Behind them, they can see dozens of riders upon the road in pursuit. To the north, horns can still be heard as they call to those in hills to the west. The cavalry must be pacing them as they keep them bottled up for the foot soldiers.
The hills begin to grow steadily steeper until they finally meld into the mountains. The road now winds its way between two steep sides of the mountain, with no way to go now but forward.
Turning a corner, they come to a junction, either straight ahead along the main road, or they can follow a smaller one that winds steeply up the mountain to their right. Deciding on speed, they continue to follow the road which continues straight ahead.
Ten more minutes pass when suddenly a small village appears ahead of them. They pause momentarily at the edge of the village to determine where to go. The villagers watch them but make no move to approach.
The village is nestled in among the sides of the mountain, the only way to go now is to follow the road as it leaves the village to the south. With the horns behind them getting louder, they kick their tired horses into a gallop as they race through town to the southern road.
From where it exits the village, the road begins to dwindle in size as it begins to curve to the right. Further down, the road, soon narrows into a small path with ruts made from the many wagon wheels that have rolled through here. They’re forced to slow their horses as the footing begins to get uneven with all the ruts and they run the risk of a misstep.
The horns still sound behind them, almost as if they’re trying to drive them forward. Whether they are or not, they no longer have any choice but to go on.
Suddenly, the road ahead of them enters a box canyon with steep sides. At the end of the road is a mine entrance, a dead end.
“Now what?” asks Fifer, dismay in his voice. The others pause as they consider what to do.
From the mine entrance, several men walk out holding picks and shovels, eyeing them suspiciously. They don’t look very friendly as they walk toward them. The