When you know what you’re supposed to do, stay focused.
Forces will try to hinder your progress.
Remember to keep your head down, eyes forward and ride on to your destination.
Whipping past the trees, all Josiah could hear was the heavy panting of his steed as they raced through the darkness along the well-worn path. Not more than two arm lengths beside him rode one of the Rook, the green and brown tunic just another shadow underneath the flapping cloak. The Evolu mirrored Josiah’s pace, hips high, head low. They had been riding for hours. Soon they would reach the other side of the forest and break through the mountain range into the heart of Andilain.
His back ached and his legs and rear were already sore, but it would still be most of a day before they would reach the first farming community. The first signs of hope…and hopefully, a new horse. The beast was already laboring to maintain the vigorous pace.
Out of the corner of Josiah’s eye, he noticed the Rook looking in his direction. No. The elf was not looking at him, but over him. Turning his head, Josiah nearly fell off his mount.
Racing, above them through the trees, matching the speed of the horses, were large beasts, lunging through the dense forest! Only the occasional flashes of moonlight revealed their presence.
Looking back to the Rook, Josiah saw the elf draw his bow and spin in his saddle to face the opposite direction. With several fluid motions, the Rook sent three arrows flying into the darkness. Josiah wondered what those rounded eyes could see in the shadows, and what, exactly, he was shooting at. When he looked back to the trees himself, he could see nothing at all.
“Focus, Josiah,” yelled the Rook, flipping back around in his saddle, “we have company!” Patting his horses neck, the elf kicked to increase the steeds speed.
Nervous, Josiah dug his spurs into the flanks of the horse to keep pace. Flashing past them was a set of boulders, the moonlight cutting through the trees to reveal their presence. Josiah knew those rocks. Welcome Point they were called, which meant the end the the forest was near.
“We’re almost out!” he shouted to the Rook and he smiled triumphantly. “The valley of Andilain is not far!!”
Something passed between them, with a high pitched whistle. An instant later, Josiah’s left arm was pierced with an explosion of fire, nearly dislodging him from his horse.
“AARGH!” he screamed as the arrow bit into his flesh. Gripping the horses mane with his right hand, he leaned forward and kick again, urging the beast on.
Yanking his own reigns, the Rook fell back and positioned himself directly behind Josiah’s horse, creating a shield. “Keep going!” he called, “No matter what, don’t stop until you reach Kilendell!”
Pain made it hard to focus, but Josiah nodded.
Gripping the slim bow, the Rook once more spun in his saddle and faced behind them. Several more arrows whistled past their horses, one just missing Josiah’s head. One after another, the Rook pulled arrows from the quiver attached to his saddle and sent them flying behind him.
Four shafts struck the Rook and horse. The steed tumbled to the ground.
“Ride!” was the last cry Josiah heard as he broke through the forest into the bright moonlit landscape. With a loud “HEEYA!” he spurred his mount down across the open countryside and away from the forest.
Converging on the broken body of the Rook, the bowmen stopped at the corpse of the horse. Unsheathing their long, rusted knives, two of them knelt and immediately started disemboweling the animal. The third wandered around to the elf.
He squatted at the side of his prey. A long, grey tongue hung freely from his gaping smile.
Shoulders and ribs were crushed, from rolling under the horse. The only sounds from the Rook were short, sharp attempts to sip air. His one good eye settled on the face of his attacker. Blood trickled from mouth, nose and ears.
The Vallen licked his lips as the salty scent of blood escaped the wounds of the body, rising in strands of steam.
“Good shot I am,” he grinned, admiring his handy work. Grabbing the shaft of the black arrow protruding from the Rooks stomach, he twisted.
The elf tried to scream, but didn’t have enough air. His body shuddered violently.
“You no more cause trouble I think, eh?”
The last wisp of air fled from the Rooks lips. His head fell to the side.
The giant patted the Rooks face roughly, “I think right.”
Standing up, the bowman stared out the mouth of the forest.
“Thule will no like they warning others,” said one, approaching their leader. His breath now smelled heavily of horseflesh. “We be punished for sure.”
The leader continued to stare across the valley. “Not if he not find out.”
“Hmm. What you plan?”
The leader nodded at the corpse of the Rook. “Add it to meat. We say it be the boy, then all be good. We live another day.”
