Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li - Brian Pratt [84]
They make an early start, none of them having had much sleep. Keeping an easterly direction, they gradually move toward the hills to the north.
Not long after they get moving, the sound of horses thundering across the plains alerts them to their danger. From the south, a band of ten riders are bearing down upon them. As they near, Jiron says, “Grey Wolf riders.”
A moment later, James is able to see their pattern as well.
Miko asks, “We going to run?”
Shaking his head, James replies, “No, we’d never get away from them on foot.” He reaches down and picks up several stones from the ground and waits for them to come closer.
Suddenly, he arcs his hand back and takes out the rear rider, and then progressively works his way to the front. By the time he’s taken out five of the riders, he let’s loose the power and…
Crumph!
…the ground under the front riders explodes upward, throwing horses and riders into the air.
Jiron moves forward with his knives and advances on the two men who are still alive. Before reaching them, another stone flies and takes one through the chest. He engages the remaining man, catching his sword on crossed knives.
Kicking out, he connects with the man’s knee but fails to do any serious injury when the rider twists at the last moment. The rider backs up a step and then thrusts quickly with his sword.
Jiron easily deflects the blade to the left and follows through with his right knife, catching the man in the side. Then he brings his knee up hard into the man’s groin and he falls to the ground.
A swift kick causes the sword to fly out of his hand. Defeated, the man lies there, holding his side as he tries to stem the flow of blood.
James surveys the battlefield and finds the man lying at Jiron’s feet to be the only one left alive. He goes over to the dying man. “Do you understand me?” he asks the Grey Wolf rider.
The man just stares back at him, hate in his eyes, not understanding. “What should we do with him?” Jiron asks.
“Leave him,” James says. To Miko he hollers, “Round up the horses and we’ll take them with us.”
“All of them?” Jiron asks.
“Can’t leave any here for him to use to give warning,” he says, indicating the injured man.
“I’ll give him a hand,” Jiron says after he’s finished wiping off his knives.
James stays near the injured man until they’ve managed to round up all the remaining horses, only five are alive and fit for travel. The others had either been killed, or had suffered grievous injuries when the ground erupted.
When they bring the horses over to where he waits with the man, he takes one and mounts. He gives the man on the ground one last look, knowing he’ll most likely not survive. Then they leave, moving due east.
Once they’ve passed beyond where the man can see them, they turn north and gallop toward the safety of the hills. Another hour finds them entering the foothills.
They move to the top of the first hill and pause a moment to get a view of the surrounding area. The plains to the south are devoid of anything moving upon them, other than the waving grass.
To the north, the hills progressively become higher until finally turning into the range of mountains they see further ahead. The hills also begin sprouting trees and James can see how the trees get progressively thicker as the forest extends to the distant mountains.
Moving down off the hill, they make their way more to the northeast as they wind their way through the hills. At a river flowing out of the hills, they begin following it upstream, further into the hills.
As the sun begins to set, they decide to find a spot along the river to make camp, one near the lee of a hill to better conceal them. James wades into the river with a sharpened stick and succeeds in catching two large fish while the others get the fire ready. His legs cold from having waded out in the water, he huddles close to the fire for warmth.
Keeping the fire as low as possible so as not to announce their presence to whomever may be around, they cook the fish. James is glad to find