Brian Pratt - Trail of the Gods

Opening his eyes a fraction, he sees Jiron and Aleya slightly ahead of him riding fast toward the line of Cardri troops. Archers are putting arrows to string and the pikemen in the front line lower their pikes, forming an impenetrable wall of death.

James slows his horse and when the others take notice, they slow theirs as well. Still in control of the winds, he increases their velocity between them and the soldiers.

“They’re Cardri’s!” Aleya yells at him. “The forces from Kern!”

Nodding that he understands, he again closes his eyes and concentrates. Sweat is pouring down his face as he pushes the winds into ever greater ferocity. Heart thumping wildly, he wonders just how much more he’ll be able to do. Hopefully, enough to see them through.

“What’s going on!” hollers Aleya.

Beginning to recognize what James is doing, Jiron pulls a cloth out of his back and begins wrapping it around his face. “Cover your face!” he yells to her.

“What?” she yells back.

“Cover your face!” he repeats as he ties the cloth into place.

The wind continues to increase in intensity and dirt begins stinging her face as it’s whipped off the ground by the wind. Understanding finally dawns on her, she pulls a piece of cloth from her pack and wraps it around her face as well. She glances back to James and can see he’s still in deep concentration, Jiron has the reins to his horse in hand.

“Now!” yells James, his voice cracking from the exertion of trying to bend the winds to his will. The air between them and the lines is all but occluded by the amount of dust and dirt being picked up by the winds.

Turning to Aleya, Jiron yells over the roar of the wind, “Let’s go!” Getting his horse in motion, he begins moving to the left flank of Cardri’s lines in the hopes of bypassing them without being seen. As they go, the air continues to increase in density as the wind keeps slamming into the ground, drawing more and more dust into the air. In just a few more moments, the lines of Cardri’s soldiers can no longer be seen.

“Hurry!” James tells them, barely heard over the wind. “Can’t hold this much longer.”

Breaking into a gallop, Jiron continues to lead them toward where he believes the flank of Cardri’s forces to be. The dust in the air is providing them ample cover in which to hide and be able to sneak across the lines unseen. When he believes he’s passed their flank, he turns them due west.

Suddenly before them, the line of Cardri soldiers appears out of the storm. He’d miscalculated and had brought them directly into their lines. The men have their faces covered in order to protect their eyes from the flying dirt and fail to see them as they appear out of the storm.

Unable to stop, Jiron plows right into their lines. Men cry out and swords flash. Keeping tight hold to the reins of James’ horse, he continues forging his way quickly through their lines. With the flying dust adding to the confusion of just what is happening, he’s able to bring himself and James past the first group of men quickly.

A space of ten feet separates the footmen he just went through and the archers positioned behind them. Not having any choice, he continues on through their lines as well, knocking archers to the ground, all the while praying he doesn’t do any a serious injury. He realizes he can’t stop to see about their well being, he’d be taken for an attacker for sure.

The storm continues to rage, the dust now so thick he can’t even see the end of his horse’s nose. He finally realizes that he’s past the archers when after a minute’s further riding, he no longer comes into contact with any.

He slows to a stop and pulls James’ horse close. “We’re through,” he hollers. “You can stop now!” Whether James heard him or not is hard to tell, he’s slumped over in his saddle and is making no indication that he’s even alive let alone heard him.

Looking around quickly, he realizes Aleya is no longer with them. They must’ve been separated when going through the lines. “Aleya!” he yells but her name is lost in the roar of the storm.

Getting them moving, he just hopes she remembers to meet them at the inn like James had suggested. At the time he thought it was odd that he suggested that, he never did that before. Maybe he had already known what he was going to do when he said it.

The storm begins to subside and he picks up their speed as the ground before them becomes more distinct. Off to their right, the wall of the fortress is a dim shadow in the still swirling dust storm. Shapes can be seen moving around the area and he kicks his horse into a faster gallop in order to clear the area before the storm completely dies. Once he finds the north road on the far side of Kern, he breaks into a fast gallop and quickly puts it behind them.

When the storm had begun in earnest, Aleya had been nervous. Never has such a storm developed so quickly. Glancing to James, she just wonders what kind of man he is, that he can control even the winds.

Following Jiron as he heads along their lines, she’s thankful that he told her to cover her face with the cloth. The continuous peppering by the sand and rocks had begun to sting terribly.

As the storm rages in intensity, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep Jiron in sight. She finally has to ride with her horse just scant inches behind his to keep from losing him in the storm.

Then suddenly, they’re among the troops from Kern. Her horse is struck by a pike and she’s thrown to the ground, landing among the troops. Only the severity of the storm allows her to not be readily noticed by them. Getting up, all she can see around her are the indistinct forms of the soldiers. Jiron and James are nowhere to be seen.

Cries and shouts from the men around her are blown upon the wind, their meanings lost. Realizing she’s got to get out of there, she begins forcing her way through the lines.

A soldier suddenly appears before her, an officer by his uniform. “Back in line soldier!” he yells at her. The cloth over her face hides her features so well, he believes she’s one of his own troops. As she comes to within a foot of the officer, she acts like she’s stumbled. When he comes to help her, she lashes out with her shoulder and knocks him off balance and into the surrounding men.

Crying out, the officer stumbles backward as she races past. Behind her, the officer as well as his shouting, soon disappears in the roar of the storm. Moving quickly, she makes her way through the now disorganized lines. The storm has certainly reduced the moral of the troops, she can hear words of fear and dread coming from those she’s making her way through.

Suddenly, one young soldier grabs her and cries, “What’s happening?” Fear evident in the young man’s voice. Hating to do it to someone as terrified as him, she quickly disengages herself from his grip and shoves him backward away from her.

Moving past another soldier, she finds herself in the space between the footmen and the bowmen. It’s at this time the storm begins to subside and the visibility gradually improves.

“You!” a shout breaks through the storm behind her. She turns around and another officer stands staring straight at her. Fear at being found out immobilizes her as she stares into his eyes.

The officer then points to the squad of bowmen behind her and orders, “Get back in line!”

The bow on her back must make him believe she’s one of his troops. With the visibility improving, there’s little chance of her succeeding in bulling her way through the archers as she had with the footmen. So she moves and takes position in line with the other archers, praying that she will not be found out.

Glancing around, she finds that she’s in the fore of a squad of twenty archers, one of ten such squads positioned behind the footmen to offer support should that become necessary. As the storm subsides, she looks around for Jiron and James but they’re nowhere to be found. They must’ve made it through!