Brian Pratt - Trail of the Gods

It isn’t long before the column of men completely passes by. Soon, the sound of their footsteps begins to fade as they move further away until finally dying out altogether.

Sitting up, Jiron whispers, “That was close.”

“Yeah,” agrees James. “I thought for sure we’d be spotted.”

Off in the distance, the fringe of the enemy camp can be seen a little to their right. They’ve almost made it completely past. Far in the distance, the lights from Kern can be seen. “Not too much further,” announces Aleya.

“The thing I’m worried about, should we make it there,” says James “is the reception we’ll have from Cardri’s forces.”

“What do you mean?” Aleya asks.

Turning to her, he explains, “They don’t know who we are. For all they know, we’re spies or soldiers of the Empire. I don’t know if we’ll find sanctuary there.”

“So you think we should try to avoid them too?” asks Jiron.

“It wouldn’t hurt if we could,” he replies. “But I doubt if we’ll be that fortunate.”

Jiron nods his head as he starts descending the hill. Heading further to the west, they travel another hour as they put even more distance between themselves and the enemy camp. Once they’ve reached a point where the enemy encampment is far to the east, they turn north and begin their push to the Cardri lines.

By this time, the eastern sky has begun to lighten with the coming of the dawn. The hills they’ve been traveling through all evening are beginning to smooth out to grasslands the further north they travel.

“We need to hurry!” James says as the sky continues to lighten.

Jiron nods as he breaks into a quick run. The others follow him and James is soon huffing and puffing in his attempt to keep up.

It isn’t long before they leave the foothills behind altogether. Running along the grasslands, James continues scanning the horizon all around for any movement which might indicate forces on the move. So far they’ve been lucky and haven’t yet been spotted.

When the sun finally crests the horizon to the east, horsemen are seen riding across the horizon ahead of them. “Are they Cardri’s?” asks James when Jiron brings them to a halt.

“Can’t tell from this distance,” Jiron replies.

They crouch down in the grass, hoping against hope for the riders to pass by without seeing them. When suddenly from behind them, a horn blares forth. James turns and looks behind them to see a dozen riders heading in their direction. The blast from the horn has caused the riders between them and Cardri to swing in their direction. Breaking into a fast gallop, the thirty or so horsemen begin heading their way.

“James!” Jiron cries out as he sees them turning to intercept them.

“I know!” he exclaims.

Aleya has her bow out and aimed at the horsemen coming up behind them as they’re the closer force. Standing steady in the face of their charge, she lets fly an arrow which strikes the lead rider, knocking him off his horse. In one fluid motion she takes another arrow out of her quiver, sets it to the bowstring, draws back and releases. Another horseman is knocked off his horse by the impact of her second arrow.

Crumph!

The ground under the onrushing riders explodes upward throwing men and horses into the air. Three riders who were at the rear of the charge race through the flying debris.

Aleya, unfazed by James’ display of magic, again sets arrow to string, draws back and lets fly. The arrow flies and strikes the last of the three riders square in the chest, causing him to fall off backward from his horse. His foot gets tangled in the stirrup as his horse careens off, dragging him along the ground.

Jiron moves forward, his two knives at the ready as the remaining two riders approach.

Her last arrow to string, she aims for the lead horse, rather than the rider. Letting the arrow go, it flies within inches of Jiron on its way and strikes the horse on the left in the forward right flank. The injury causes the horse to stumble to the right and into the other. Both horses fall to the ground, their riders jumping clear.

Seeing his chance, Jiron moves forward quickly and engages the first man before he has a chance to recover. A quick series of blows at the unbalanced soldier soon has him falling to the ground, his life’s blood draining rapidly from the mortal wound in his side.

His partner, having regained his balance, draws his sword and advances upon Jiron.

Horns sound from all over as more forces rush to join in the fray. Foot soldiers begin swarming toward them from the direction of the encampment.

Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!

The northern force begins to be decimated as they start to feel the brunt of James’ magic. As the rear riders make it through the falling debris from the explosions, they start to fall as James begins knocking them off their horses with stones.

As he continues taking out the force coming toward them from the north, Jiron faces off with the remaining soldier from the southern force. Deflecting the man’s sword with skill honed through years of fighting in the fight pits back in the City of Light with one knife, he follows through with his other and leaves a red trail along the man’s forearm as he opens up a six inch long cut.

Jiron sees Aleya moving behind the man he’s fighting, going to the men she felled with her arrows. Whenever she gets one removed from a dead man, she immediately turns and fires it at the oncoming horsemen to the north.

“Get the horses!” he cries at her as he agilely moves to avoid a thrust by the soldier.

She glances to him and he jumps back to disengage from the soldier as he points to where several horses who weren’t either killed or wounded have congregated. Nodding her head, she leaves her arrows in the dead men as she rushes over to the horses.

Reengaging the man, he feints to the head and when the soldier raises his sword to guard against the attack, he lashes out with his foot, taking him in the knee. A snap can be heard as the knee breaks and the man cries out in pain. Falling to the ground, he’s easy prey to Jiron’s knives and soon lies dead.

A quick glance shows the advancing footmen from the camp are still a ways away. He turns toward the advancing northern force and sees James has already reduced their number significantly.

Crumph!

Another explosion sends more riders and horses into the air, leaving only four from the original force of thirty left moving in their direction.

James is visibly tiring. The hard run earlier, plus the magic is taking its toll. He arcs his arm back and sends another stone flying as it takes out the lead rider, leaving three on the way.

As he gets ready to throw another stone, an arrow whizzes past and strikes the lead horse square in the chest. The horse stumbles and falls, tripping the horse next to it. Its rider is thrown and hits the ground hard, breaking his neck.

The remaining rider rides straight toward them, James and Jiron dive out of the way. The rider’s sword comes within bare inches of James’ head as he passes. Turning, the rider comes again at James, intent on trampling him with his horse’s hooves.

Just before he reaches James, Jiron leaps toward the rider and pulls him from his horse. A quick thrust with a knife leaves the rider dead. Getting up, he looks around just as another stone from James takes out the remaining advancing soldier.

“Get on!” Aleya says from where she sits atop one of the horses she’d appropriated. With two others in tow, she rides over to them and they quickly mount.

The tingling sensation of a mage doing magic suddenly washes over him. Looking to the approaching force from the camp, he can see a rider in a hooded robe, galloping fast as he begins pulling ahead of the footmen. “Jiron!” he exclaims as he points over to the approaching mage.