Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li - Brian Pratt [70]
“I agree,” James says as he goes over and wakes up Miko.
They mount and quickly make their way toward the north, still following the river from a distance. The river continues almost due north as it flows to the south and James finds it odd that there are no villages along the riverbank.
“I would think there would be someone living along the river,” he states during their travel.
“Why?” Miko asks.
“It’s a good place to live,” he tells him. “You have access to fish and fresh water, plus transportation south as needed. It’s just odd is all.”
“Maybe the clansmen don’t allow anyone to live there?” Jiron guesses.
“Perhaps,” says James as he reflects upon it. “You may be right, this could be the border area between the Clans’ land and the Empire as agreed upon in that Treaty they’d mentioned. If that’s the case, then there most likely will be minimal people inhabiting this area.”
“Which could prove beneficial to us,” Jiron says with optimism.
An hour or two past noon, Jiron points to the west and then hollers out, “James!”
James looks over to the west and sees a band of riders on the other side of the river. One rider has broken from the others as he races to the north, the others pace them as they move north. He can see the riders casting glances their way.
“Damn!” James curses. “They’ve seen us.”
“And it looks like one is going for help,” adds Jiron.
James begins to angle his horse to the east and the others follow his lead. “Need to put some distance between us, fast.”
“It won’t take them long to find us now that they know about where we are,” Jiron says as he gallops along beside James.
“Let’s put off that meeting as long as we can,” James replies as they race through the tall grass. He’s worried that at their speed, one of their horses might put a hoof in a gopher hole or something that will break its leg. That would prove disastrous.
Glancing behind, he sees that the river and the riders are no longer visible. They turn to a more northerly course and push their horses as hard as they can.
A horn sounding to the southeast causes them to glance over their shoulders. There behind them are several dozen riders coming fast. They look to be clansmen, but which ones they can’t tell from this distance.
They continue racing north, maintaining their lead from the approaching riders. Hills begin to appear to the northwest. James begins to angle toward them, the hills would give them a better chance than open plains.
“But what about the riders we saw there earlier?” Miko shouts to James.
“There’re less of them than what’s behind us,” he replies. “Besides, we stand a better chance among the hills.”
They continue racing toward the hills, Miko keeps glancing behind them at the pursuing riders. Though they’re not closing the gap, they’re not falling behind either. Worried, he does his best to keep up with the others.
As they near the hills, they can once more see the river as it flows around the hills to the west. The riders who had been over on the other side are nowhere to be seen.
“James!” hollers Jiron. “The horses can’t keep this up, we’re going to have to do something about those riders behind us.”
“I know,” James tells him.
The first hill they come to rises thirty or more feet above the plains. James steers his horse toward it and begins to climb to the top, the others move to follow him.
At the top, he gets down from his horse and hands the reins to Miko. “Just don’t let him get away,” he tells him.
Miko nods his head as he takes the reins.
Jiron and Miko just stand there as they watch James. He faces the oncoming riders and suddenly brings his hands together and then after holding them closed for a moment quickly flings them open. A dozen small blobs appear to be thrown from his hands and land on the ground.
When they hit the ground, they begin rolling toward the riders. As they roll through the tall grass, the grass they touch begins to wilt and die, leaving a trail behind them as they continue on