Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li - Brian Pratt [134]
During Fifer’s watch, he hears a commotion from the plains to the east and climbs to the top of the hill. Dozens of riders are riding to the north, fast. Must’ve found the slain soldiers back at their camp.
He continues watching them until they disappear in the distance. For the remainder of his watch, he remains sitting upon the hill overlooking the plains but sees no other riders passing during the afternoon.
When the light begins to fade, he comes back to the camp and proceeds to wake everyone up. Another quick meal and then they saddle up and mount. By this time, the sun has gone down and they’re able to leave the shelter of the trees without fear of being spotted.
Chapter Twenty Three
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Back to the edge of the tree line, they move out into the grasslands in order to make better time. They continue to follow along the tree line as it moves north through the hills. The mountains grow large ahead of them and after an hour of riding, they reach their base. Skirting around the tall mountains, they stay in the foothills as they continue north.The hours pass as they follow the mountains on their left. Moving along the foothills is fairly easy, the waning moon giving them ample light to see.
An hour or two before the approach of dawn, they round a hill and come upon a camp of enemy soldiers. In their haste, they fail to take notice of the enemy camp before one of their sentries sees their approach and calls out to them. When they fail to answer, the soldier fires a crossbow bolt and begins shouting, alerting those within the camp to their presence.
The bolt flies past Jiron just as he brings his horse to a quick stop. Turning their horses around quickly, they flee to the south just as a horn begins to sound from the camp behind them. Far to the south, an answering call can be heard.
“Damn!” curses Jiron as he turns them eastward, riding fast away from the two forces. Horns blare behind them as they call to each other and in the moonlight, enemy riders can be seen racing out of the camp in pursuit. One of the riders sounds a horn when he catches sight of them fleeing across the grasslands, letting the entire countryside aware of their whereabouts.
It isn’t long before horns can be heard coming from ahead of them to the east as well. Having little choice, they turn to the north to avoid those ahead of them and ride hard as they try to outdistance their pursuers.
“James, can you do something?” Jiron hollers to him as he races close by.
“I can’t see them,” he replies. “I can’t be sure of being effective until I know just how many are back there and exactly where they are.”
“How far away is dawn?” Fifer asks.
“An hour,” guesses Jiron. “Maybe more.”
Another round from the horns behind them sound in the night. “We’ve got to silence those horns!” Fifer yells. “If we don’t, the armies ahead of us will know we’re coming and there goes our chance of sneaking through their lines.”
“How many do you think are behind us?” asks James.
“There were about twenty at the camp we almost ran into,” Jiron says. “Add to that the other two groups, maybe a hundred. More?”
“I can’t take out that many!” James exclaims. “Not in the dark anyway, I can’t be sure to even get them.”
As they continue to fly across the plains, he begins to get an idea. Hating to do it to the poor horses, but he’s got no choice. Concentrating hard, he begins creating a patchwork of holes behind them in the ground. Each is seven inches in diameter and a foot deep. Any horse putting its leg in it will have it broken, especially at the speed they’re going.
He creates his orb so the riders behind them will know in which direction to follow them. “What’re you doing?” cries Jiron. “We’re trying to lose them not attract them!”
“I want them to follow right behind us,” he says, voice strained from the effort to talk, and create the holes behind them at the same time. It’s taking far more out of him to create the patchwork of holes than he’d expected and it isn’t long before he begins