Chris Evans - A Darkness Forged in Fire

Konowa looked around and saw the flat chunk of steel lying several feet away in the grass. Everything had now gone eerily quiet. He looked up to see that a group of cavalry, perhaps ten, had hauled in their steeds and were staring not at Konowa, but at Visyna. She was standing near the edge of the forest, holding a branch in front of her like a weapon. The air shimmered around her and Konowa blinked, uncertain that it wasn't sweat in his eyes. When he looked again, the air was normal and Visyna began yelling about frightening a lady and did they know who her father was?

Before the cavalry could recover from her assault, Konowa bent over, nearly toppling to the ground as more lightning raced through his chest, and picked up the blade portion of the saber. Gritting his teeth, he walked the few paces to the sergeant who only a moment ago had tried to decapitate him.

The shabraque over the sergeant's saddle was made of a dark-blue cloth with ornately embroidered crests in gold stitching on the rearmost portion. It depicted an arrow in flight aided by a pair of eagle's wings. Konowa recognized it at once as the emblem of the Fourteenth Household Cavalry, commanded by the Duke of Rakestraw, Colonel Jaal Edrahar.

"You always greet strangers that way?" Konowa asked, holding out the piece of steel.

"There's been some unrest lately, bandits and such," the sergeant said, letting go of the reins and taking back the blade. "Who are you?" His eyes took in the ragged remains of Konowa's uniform with extreme skepticism.

"I'm just lost in the woods," Konowa said, "but that is Ms. Visyna Tekoy, daughter of Almak Tekoy. We need to get to a military outpost at once."

As he talked, the sergeant's roan started to nuzzle Konowa's shirt. It took a big sniff, its eyes went wide, then it whinnied and stepped back.

"And I need a flagon of beer and a wench to rub my back," the sergeant said, reining in his mount. "You aren't going anywhere until I know more."

"I've never known Colonel Edrahar's troops to refuse aide to a damsel in distress," Konowa said, looking over at Visyna, who was still menacing the troopers with her branch.

At the sound of the Duke's name the sergeant looked down at Konowa with a wary expression on his face.

"You know the Duke, then?" he asked.

"Know him? Sergeant, six years ago I saved that sorry excuse for nobility at Khundarr Ridge."

The sergeant sat back in his saddle and pushed his helmet up from his brow, revealing a tanned face dominated by a large, blond mustache, the ends twirled into complete circles. "I was at Khundarr Ridge. The Duke wasn't saved by no savage, it was that officer of the Hynta-elves…bloody hell." Like all good noncommissioned officers, the sergeant covered his shock by shouting. "Right, you two," he yelled, pointing to the two unhorsed troopers who were dusting themselves off. "Seeing as you were daft enough to get your arses knocked off, you can walk back. And right smartly, too," he growled before the troopers could utter a complaint.

"Can't have an officer walking, now can we, sir?" the sergeant said, gesturing with the now-useless hilt of his saber. "Sir, you take the gelding and your woman can ride the gray mare."

Konowa smiled and thought of correcting the sergeant. Visyna was most certainly not his woman.

"Name's Lorian, sir, Sergeant Dhareg Lorian. Sorry for that crack about savages, didn't mean nothing by it. I'll get you and the missus to the Duke by morning. We're bivouacked just over the next hill, a few miles north of Port Ghamjal. We'll have you there in no time."

Konowa nodded. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure it's wise to leave the troopers out here alone. We came across some-" He started to say rakkes, then thought better of it.

Sergeant Lorian tipped the helmet a little farther back on his head. "Across some what, sir?"

"Bandits," Konowa said, "lots of bandits. I'd suggest you don't leave anyone behind." It was strange, but after a year, it was hard to make it an order.

Sergeant Lorian didn't look as if he believed Konowa, but he finally shrugged and motioned to the unseated troopers. "All right, you lucky buggers, double up on the mare, the officer and his lady will ride the gelding. Now be quick about it."

Konowa walked over to the gelding, remembering to mount from the left. He placed his musket muzzle-down in the leather container strapped to the side of the saddle that had only moments before held a trooper's musket. Visyna walked over, her face flushed with shouting. He decided to be a gentleman and offer her his hand.

"Thank you, no. I think of the two of us it's you who needs assistance," she said, holding out her hand to him.

Konowa decided the snickers he heard were from the horses, and reluctantly took Visyna's hand. With his left hand he grabbed a chunk of the horse's mane, then placed his left foot in the stirrup, said a little prayer, and jumped. As it was, he barely got up into the saddle, his ribs crying out in protest as he swung his right leg over. Visyna had no such trouble, hopping up behind him with delicate ease. She chose to ride sidesaddle on the rolled blanket strapped to the saddle.

The elves of the Hynta were not known for riding, staying mostly within the confines of the Great Forest. Still, they had an affinity with horses, as they did with most things in the natural order, and took to it with grace and ease when required. Konowa, on the other hand, found riding a horse as enjoyable as sitting on a rockslide at the top of a very steep cliff. Horses were huge, all steel-shod hooves and sharp teeth, and worst of all, had minds of their own.

He gave the one beneath him a good long look. To his surprise, the horse appeared thin, its ribs showing from beneath the shabraque. Tufts of hair seemed to be falling out, too, but then Konowa knew military life was never easy on horses, or any other living creature. Still, he'd remembered the Duke's mounts as being among the finest in the army.

"Easy now, easy, it's just a short trip," Konowa said, slowly gathering up the reins that had fallen to the ground.

The horse started stamping its hooves and tried to back up, tugging hard on the reins in an effort to unseat Konowa. "I know, I know," he muttered, "but you'll just have to get used to the smell." He pulled back on the reins and leaned forward, almost falling. The horse swung its head around and nipped at him with a set of huge yellow teeth.

"Problem, sir?" Sergeant Lorian asked, riding up to a few feet from where Konowa was struggling to keep the gelding in check.

"No," Konowa lied, noticing that the sergeant seemed to be looking more at Visyna than at him. The horse jittered to the right and Konowa reached down to pat its withers. He pulled his hand back a second later as the horse's head whipped around again. "We're just getting to know one another," he said. The horse shifted about beneath him, perhaps hoping he might fall off if it kept trying, but Konowa squeezed his knees to its sides and pulled back hard on the reins to show the animal who was boss. There was the stamp of a hoof and a few swishes of its tail and then it calmed, ceding, at least for the moment, superiority to Konowa. Visyna said nothing the whole time, but he could feel her stare on the back of his neck.

It was a strange sensation to be on a horse again-the feel of the leather in his hands, the rhythmic breathing of the horse beneath him. Konowa slackened his grip on the reins and forced himself to look up. Everything seemed different on top of a horse. He was struck by how remote and distant the last year of his life had suddenly become, and all that from gaining a few feet of perspective. Things were clearly changing. He was beginning to allow himself to imagine that they might even be changing for the better when the horse swung its head around and managed to nip him on the knee.