| |
––––––––
“Vlaxan is fast, I’ll give him that,” Ishtvan muttered. “I didn’t expect him to get his men out looking for us this quickly. One of his people must have seen us leaving his quarters. Or maybe someone recognized me.”
They were in a forest now, three day’s ride east of Ensildahir. It was dark with a heavy mist in the air but it glowed with a faint blue ambience from the moonlight, which gave enough light for them to be seen if they weren’t careful.
Once the last group of Vlaxan’s riders had disappeared, they set off again and for an hour or so, they didn’t see anyone else. But it wasn’t to last.
Ishtvan held out a hand in a warning gesture. Lorial drew up beside him and watched as two more men on horseback rode past a hundred yards to their south.
“I think we still can’t turn south,” Ishtvan said once they were gone.
“No,” Lorial agreed. “There’ll be more patrols waiting for us. So we’re going to stick to the plan and go around the mountains?”
“I think so,” Ishtvan told her. “We should be able to keep out of sight in the foothills for a while and then, when the timing’s right, we can slip past the Angdar garrison under cover of darkness.”
––––––––
They passed it two evenings later, riding through the forest–covered foothills of the range. Lorial gazed at it with a sense of morbid curiosity. A crude earthwork structure with thick walls, adorned by flaming torches.
“There must be hundreds of them in there,” she murmured.
“Thousands,” Ishtvan told her.
He led her farther up into the foothills, rounding the slope of the closest mountain in the range until they came upon a small path hidden in foliage. Then they followed it onto higher ground.
Later, they left the path and entered a small clearing. Lorial breathed out in amazement. She had no idea how high up they had come. Mountain peaks rose to either side of her and the lands of the east were visible below. A pleasant mist drifted through the trees and through it, she saw the faintest trace of the dawn’s light on the horizon.
She and Ishtvan then dismounted, took their packs off the horses and made their sleeping arrangements. It was then that the cold hit Lorial. However, soon she was sleeping in the folds of her warm traveling blanket, not caring about the Angdar, Cirreone or anything else but a good night’s rest.
––––––––
Four days later, she and Ishtvan were traveling through the valleys between the mountain ridges. Their progress was a lot slower than it had been on the western side of the mountains but they had still traveled a long way down the range. A hundred miles in all. And concealed by mountains on either side of them, they didn’t have to worry about anyone spotting them.
In fact, the journey south had been quite pleasant. The weather was warm and sky was a deep blue, while all around them pretty flowers carpeted the landscape and sunlight reflected off the towering snow–capped peaks.
Now they were riding at a walking pace alongside a pristine blue river that cut through the valleys and it was leading them almost due south.
“We’ll reach some higher ground again tomorrow night,” Ishtvan said. “And we won’t be able to follow this river much longer after that. The terrain gets too difficult and we’ll have to use a different path. But I think we’ll soon be far enough south to travel out in the open, if we’re not already.”
“Well, no one knows we’re here, right?”
Ishtvan shrugged. “Not that I know of.”
“Well, maybe we can leave the mountains tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” Ishtvan then stopped by the river and pulled out his flask to refill it.
Lorial climbed down from her horse as well. She gave the animal an affectionate pat, ruffling her mane. “What do you think? Are you getting a little thirsty too?”
The animal made a sort of snorting sound in reply, which she took as a yes.
––––––––
The next day came and went and the late evening found them some way along a path in eastern foothills, making their gradual descent to the plains. A heavy fog clung to the ground and the trees to either side. It was very dark and the only sound they heard was that of the horses’ hooves.
It had been this way for some time when they heard another sound, very soft and in the distance.
“What’s that?” Lorial asked.
“I’m not sure...” Ishtvan started. “Riders!” he hissed. “We have to get out of sight.” However, even as he said this, he knew it was too late. What had been a soft sound was now like thunder and moments later, four horsemen came out of the fog with swords drawn.
Lorial and Ishtvan urged their own horses on to a gallop, although one of the new riders overtook Ishtvan and took a swing at him. Ishtvan however was faster, grabbing his wrist and hauling him from his steed.
“They’re from the garrison,” he told Lorial as they raced along the path.
“What?”
“These riders,” Ishtvan said. “They’re from the garrison. I can tell from their armor.”
Lorial nodded, although she didn’t really understand. The riders weren’t Angdar, that was for sure. Those creatures weren’t famed for their horsemanship. But what Ishtvan had seen were dents on the left shoulder plates of each rider’s armor, a symbol of solidarity among the long–term residents of the garrison. If the men were not Angdar, then they were still in league with them. And most likely with Vlaxan as well.
Then a dozen more riders entered the melee, charging onto the path from a higher road. The newcomers forced Ishtvan and Lorial off the path onto steadily more slippery terrain.
“Jump!” Ishtvan shouted.
Lorial looked at him as if he were mad. “What?”
“Trust me,” he told her. Then he swung one leg over his saddle and leapt to the scree–covered ground, sliding through the gravel.
Lorial rolled her eyes, grimaced and then – throwing caution to the wind – followed his lead, while the horses darted off their own way.
“Come on!” Ishtvan shouted. And it was then Lorial saw his plan. Right in front of them was a ravine. If they hadn’t been driven off the path, a bridge would have taken them over it but now, they were heading into it.
Lorial bit her lip. Tumbling down this slope wasn’t going to be like rolling on a feathered mattress.
With a grimace, she dug her heels into the scree and leaned back, skidding into the depths with Ishtvan at her side, while the riders from the garrison turned back and headed north.
None of them stopped to see to their fallen comrade.