Leslie Moore - Griffin's Shadow

At last, the standard of Peregrine Company loomed ahead. A man ran up and skidded to a halt just in front of Kian, causing the gelding to snort and start in surprise. Ashinji recognized Goran, Homan’s immediate subordinate.

“Lord Ashinji,” he gasped, then doubled over in a fit of coughing.

Ashinji waited until he recovered, then asked “Is the company formed up?”

“Yes, my lord,” Goran croaked. “We were awaiting your return.”

“We’re moving out now. Our orders are to get to the fords and hold them.” Ashinji pointed over his shoulder. “Homan is right behind me. When he comes up, tell him to bring the company around to the north. There’s a break in the fire there. I’ll ride ahead to scout.”

“You shouldn’t ride out alone, Captain,” Goran protested. “It’s not safe! There could be humans swarming all over the riverbank by now!”

“I’ll be careful,” Ashinji replied. “If I see anything suspicious, I’ll hold back and wait for the company.” Goran looked unconvinced, but he didn’t dare argue. Instead, he bowed in acknowledgement.

Ashinji clicked his tongue and Kian started forward. He steered toward the northern end of camp, the area farthest from the river.

It soon became clear to Ashinji what the humans must have done. A small party had forged ahead of the main body of the Soldaran force and had crossed the river under cover of darkness. The moon was new, so the only light would have been from the stars, perfect conditions for sneaking close to the elven camp without serious risk of detection.

Once the raiders had come in as close as they dared, they had spread out and fired the tinder-dry meadow simultaneously on three sides. After completing the job, the raiders fled back to the river to make good their escape.

Once Ashinji had broken free of the main body of the army, he spurred Kian into a rolling canter. The gelding snorted and tossed his head; the lather on his neck testified to his nervousness in the face of the fire. Still, he obeyed his master and carried Ashinji willingly enough.

The fire roared and crackled like a living thing as man and horse sought to circle around it. Thick clouds of smoke billowed all around, obscuring Ashinji’s vision, but a momentary thinning allowed him to spot the break in the flames. He turned Kian’s head toward the clear space and urged the horse forward.

Kian whipped past the fire line, hooves throwing up gouts of hot ash. With the flames now behind them, Ashinji steered the gelding to the west and south and gave Kian his head, allowing him to run.

Onward they raced, the red glare of the flames lighting their way. Up ahead lay the dark wall of shadow that marked the tree line along the far bank of the river. On the near side, the bank-rocky and overgrown with thick tussocks of vegetation-dropped sharply to the water. Ashinji pulled back on the reins and sat deep in the saddle, checking Kian down to a walk. The gelding, barely winded, pranced and jigged at the bit, eager to be off again.

Ashinji approached the river with caution, wary of the thickets which might conceal any number of dangers. At this distance from the camp and the fire, he could once again hear the normal noises of the night. Crickets chirped from deep within the tangled growth and cicadas shrilled rhythmically from the trees across the gurgling expanse of water. An owl hooted overhead.

Ashinji brought Kian to a halt and sat very still, listening. With a sigh of frustration, he unbuckled the chinstrap of his helmet and pulled it off. He imagined he could hear Homan scolding him for taking such a risk but he needed a few moments free of the encumbrance of the helmet. A stray night breeze ruffled his hair.

Kian snorted and threw up his head.

“What is it, my friend?” Ashinji whispered. A prickling sensation tickled the back of his neck, and the air grew heavy with menace.

Too late, he realized his peril.

Out of the darkness they rushed, eerily silent. Kian trumpeted in alarm and reared, striking out with his front hooves. Ashinji clung to the saddle, struggling to free his sword from its scabbard, but too many hands pulled at him. Before he could react, they had dragged him to the ground.

Kian whirled and let fly with a vicious kick of his hind legs, scattering their attackers and allowing Ashinji to scramble to his feet and draw his sword. Instinctively, he assumed a defensive stance, his eyes and brain analyzing his situation with the speed of desperation. He cursed himself for a fool.

He faced at least a dozen attackers, all armed, probably one of the raiding parties sent ahead to fire the meadow. For some reason, they had lingered on this side of the river, perhaps to watch what their handiwork had accomplished. Now they had Ashinji surrounded and cut off from escape.

Without warning, Kian let out a shuddering groan and went to his knees. Ashinji gasped as the big horse flopped over on his side and lay quivering. He saw the pale sheen of entrails through a gaping wound in the gelding’s belly, and horrified, he realized Kian, his mount and his friend, had been gutted.

Ashinji swallowed his anger and grief. He had no time for them now, for if he didn’t think of some way to get out of this situation fast, he would soon join Kian in death. He raised his sword and shouted in Soldaran, “There are a hundred fighters hard on my heels! They will be here any moment!”

“This ‘un speaks Soldaran!” one of the humans cried in apparent astonishment.

“Shoot ‘im an’ let’s get outta here!” another voice demanded.

“I hear hoof beats!” cried a third.

Ashinji heard them as well, but it sounded like a lone rider, not Peregrine Company. His heart sank. Who else had been foolish enough to ride out here alone?

Could it be Homan, coming to search for me…? But no, Homan would come with all of Peregrine Company behind him, as ordered. Where are they? Surely they should have been here by now!

The humans all stood frozen, heads cocked like dogs, listening. The hoof beats had stopped.

“Ain’t nuthin’ but yer imagination, Caius,” one of them spat. The others muttered in agreement.

Ashinji’s eyes strained to see into the darkness. He knew he’d heard hoof beats. I’ve got to warn whoever is out there, he thought. “Hoy, soldier! There’s an ambush here! Beware and help me if you can!” he shouted.

The humans flung themselves at him. He managed to dodge the first few blows but a solid swing from a blunt weapon connected with his back plate, knocking him to his knees. Reflexively, he brought his arm up to parry a sword blow.

“No, no! Take ‘im alive!” a harsh voice barked.

Ashinji looked around wildly, seeking any opening that would allow him to live, and caught sight of the unknown horse and rider, standing a spear’s toss away in the darkness. His heart leapt into his throat.

“ Help me! ” he screamed.

No! It can’t be happening! I won’t let it!

The rider shifted a little in the saddle as if trying to get a better view of the unfolding violence. At the same instant, Ashinji caught a glimpse of the rider’s armored chest and the intricate designs lacquered onto its surface. Even in the dim starlight, he recognized the pattern.

“Sadaiyo,” Ashinji whispered.

“ Help me, Brother! ” he screamed again.

A sharp blow to his shoulder, followed by searing pain, cut off his next cry. He looked down to find an arrow sprouting from the narrow, vulnerable space between the edge of his breastplate and his left pauldron.

“Sadaiyo…help,” he gasped, and slumped to the ground.

As he lay bleeding, his body slipping into shock, his mind drifted along the threads of several thoughts. First, he felt admiration for the skill of the human archer, then profound sorrow for all he was about to lose, and finally, bitter hatred for his brother’s betrayal.