Trail of the Gods: The Morcyth Saga Book Four (40 page)

She had been so young and wanted to show him
how well and how fast she could fletch an arrow. So she worked at
it until her quiver had been jam packed with them. When she showed
the quiver to her father, he gave her a smile and told her how good
she was. Oh, she was simply aglow from his praise.

Then it happened. From out of the trees
ahead of them, a wild boar had emerged and charged. She reached
into her quiver for an arrow, but they were so tightly packed in
there that it was hard to get one out. So she pulled hard on an
arrow and suddenly, the entire contents of the quiver had come out,
arrows flying in all directions.

Placing the single arrow left in her hand to
her bow, she sighted on the charging boar just when an arrow from
her father flew past and struck it in the neck, killing it. She can
still remember the embarrassment at seeing thirty five arrows
scattered about from where they had all been pulled from her
quiver. The amused smile her father gave her at the time had
brought her great embarrassment and shame. But later on, the
experience became one of fondness and amusement at the little girl
who had packed her quiver too tightly.

Oh how I wish you were here now,
father.
But that can never be, he was one of those who died
when the Empire arrived that fateful day at Mountainside. Some of
the men, her father included, tried to fight them off, but there
were simply too many of them. If she hadn’t been on one of her
solitary hunts up in the mountains at the time, she most likely
would have died with him. There are times when she wishes she
had.

Her mother she hardly remembers at all,
having died when she was young. But from the stories her father
told her, she must have been a strong woman. Had to have been to
keep him in line as her father always liked to joke about.

She hears Jiron returning down the road and
turns with a smile which quickly vanishes from her face. It wasn’t
Jiron she heard but soldiers of the Empire. Three of them are
coming toward her, their longswords out and ready. One of them says
something to her in their language, most likely commanding her to
‘not do anything foolish’.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, “Jiron!”
she quickly grabs her bow and an arrow out of her quiver. Backing
up, she puts arrow to string and threatens the approaching men.

They come to a quick halt when the arrow
points at them. Her quiver of arrows is now between her and them,
all she has is the single arrow currently in her bow. She could
easily kill one but the other two would be on her before she could
do anything.

One of the men puts his sword away and holds
his hands up in a non-threatening manner. His voice becomes
soothingly as he begins inching his way closer to her.

Three? Is that all they sent from the
forces by Kern?
Can’t be, but there are no others behind them.
A noise behind her causes her to quickly glance backward and she
sees a soldier scramble over the edge of the cliff.

They’re climbing up from the
valley below
! What could possibly have forced them to dare
such a treacherous climb?

Other men can be seen on the top of the
ridge as well, moving toward where she holds the three men at bay.
She glances from the three men then to the others approaching. Four
others are on their way toward the standoff.

Suddenly from behind the three men, a fast
moving shape comes out of the forest, and light glints off of a
blade in each hand as Jiron stabs two of the men in the back,
severing their spinal columns.

She lets fly her arrow and takes the lead
soldier who had been advancing upon her square in the chest. The
man flies backward from the force of the arrow and lands atop the
other two men, dying on the ground.

“See to James!” Jiron cries as he moves to
attack the others advancing upon them from the edge of the
cliff.

She sees him, a man with two knives, facing
off against four men with swords.
Such courage!
Moving
quickly, she reaches the campsite and her quiver of arrows. Taking
up position next to the still unconscious James, she slings her
quiver across her back and puts arrow to string.

To her surprise, when she turns to aim at
the men Jiron is fighting, one of his attackers is already lying
still on the ground. Lining up another of his attackers, she
releases her arrow and strikes him in the chest, spinning him
around. Before he even falls to the ground, she has another arrow
knocked and released, taking out another man.

Left with only one opponent, Jiron launches
into a series of lightning fast attacks which the soldier is ill
equipped to defend against. As his knives dance, blood starts
flowing from many wounds until he manages to sink his blade into
the soldier’s chest. Kicking out with his foot, he knocks the man
off his knife then quickly turns and surveys the area.

A cry by the cliff edge draws his attention
as an arrow strikes a man who just gained the top and knocks him
backward over the side. His screams gradually diminish as he
plummets to the ground far below.

“Get the horses!” he hollers to Aleya as he
moves to James. Kneeling down next to him, he shakes him and yells,
“James! Wake up!”

James’ eyes flash open and he sits up. Pain
erupts in his forehead and he holds his head in his hands to quell
the pain. He glances to Jiron through eyes barely open from the
pain and asks, “What’s going on?”

Pointing to the cliff edge, he replies,
“They’re coming up the side of the cliff. We’ve got to get out of
here.”

Another cry is heard from a man with an
arrow protruding from his left shoulder. The pain from the wound
isn’t even slowing him down. The soldier continues toward them as
Aleya lets fly another arrow, this time hitting him square in the
chest, dropping him to the ground just as two more clear the
cliff’s edge.

Slinging her bow behind her, she races over
to the horses, quickly unties them and leads them back to where
Jiron and James are waiting. Taking up her bow again, she starts
picking off the men as they clear the top.

As Jiron helps James into the saddle he asks
him, “How do you feel?”

“Like, can I do magic?” he asks back.

Jiron nods his head.

“Wouldn’t want to,” he says. Then he glances
back to the edge of the cliff and sees three more men clear the
top. More are coming over than Aleya can pick off. “But can if I
must.”

Once he’s in the saddle, Jiron mounts up and
hollers over to Aleya who had just killed another soldier, “Time to
go!”

Quickly slinging the bow across her back,
she grabs the saddle and in one fluid motion settles into the
saddle. The quiver slung next to her bow has been greatly depleted
during the assault. Only half a dozen arrows remain.

Kicking their horses into a gallop, they
race off down the trail. Behind them, more and more men continue
reaching the top. Jiron glances back just before they disappear in
the trees and counts over two score men have already made it to the
top, their numbers steadily increasing.

They slow the horses down after putting some
distance between them and the soldiers behind them. The trail
they’re on is hardly more than a game trail, at one time it looks
like this may have been a roadway leading from the watchtower
overlooking the valley to somewhere near where the Fortress of Kern
now lies.

“That was some shooting,” praises Jiron.
“You’re good.”

“Thanks,” replies Aleya. “My father was a
good teacher with the bow. He always said ‘Be fast, but shoot true.
Speed without accuracy is fatal.’”

“True words,” nods Jiron.

The trail continues to wind down the
mountain as it switchbacks first one direction, then the other.
James breaks the silence and asks, “How long was I out?”

“Since early last night,” replies Jiron. “I
would’ve let you rest longer, but circumstances dictated
otherwise.”

“Understandable,” states James.

“Last night we were talking,” he tells
James, “and we came to the conclusion that any forces down below us
are going to be looking for us to come down off of here.”

He thinks about that as they ride in silence
a minute and then says, “Any ideas on what to do about that?”

“Not really,” he replies.

Aleya joins the conversation and adds, “We
won’t really know what to do until we find out where they are.”

James nods his head, “True. Hopefully we’ll
see them before they see us.”

“I’ve only got six arrows left,” Aleya
speaks up.

“Can you make more?” James asks her.

“Sure,” she replies. “It’s really not that
difficult, just time consuming. To fletch sufficient numbers, I’d
need several hours and more arrowheads.”

“Which we’re not going to have,” he says.
“Can you fight?”

“I never really had occasion to before,” she
says. “My father said my bow would deter anyone from bothering
me.”

Jiron glances at her and says, “Just stay
near me and I’ll protect you.”

“I may just do that,” she replies, giving
him a smile.

The trail continues its descent through the
trees, at one point they came across an overgrown pile of stone
that looks to have once been a building at some point. The ceiling
has long since caved in and grass and trees are growing in amongst
the rubble. James notices the architecture is somewhat similar to
that which was found in the valley on the other side of the
ridge.

Knowing the soldiers behind them are most
likely still in pursuit, they decide against stopping, except for
the most immediate calls of nature. When noon rolls around, they
break out rations and eat in the saddle. By this time, they’ve come
quite a ways down from the top, the exact distance is hard to tell
due to the thickness of the forest.

Jiron has begun to regale her with tales of
their exploits as they make their way through the forest. He was
just beginning the one where they had gone through the underground
caves in the Merchant’s Pass when a crossbow bolt embeds itself in
a tree right next to him.

Another one flies out and strikes James’
horse causing it to rear and throw him from the saddle. Then all
hell breaks loose when a cry goes up from ahead of them and men
begin swarming toward them out of the forest.

Crumph! Crumph!

Two massive explosions send men, dirt and
trees up into the air. Jiron comes over to where James is getting
up off the ground and reaches down a hand.

Taking the proffered hand, James vaults up
behind him on his horse and with Aleya riding next to them, turn
off the trail and begin racing downhill through the forest. “If we
can make it out of the forest and into the hills, we may be able to
reach Kern before they can get us.”

“Are you sure?” Aleya shouts.

“About that, yes,” replies Jiron. “About
getting to the hills before they catch us, no.”

Either way, they’re making a run for it.

Moving as fast as the terrain and trees will
allow, they race for their lives. Jiron swings around a rather
large tree blocking their way and runs directly into a patrol of
six soldiers. Riding straight through them, he hears his horse cry
out as a soldier slashes out with a knife and cuts a deep gash
along its left hindquarters.

Aleya stays right with them and they soon
leave that patrol behind. His horse begins faltering and glancing
back at the wound, can see where the blood is flowing freely down
the horse’s flank. He realizes his horse isn’t going to last much
longer and brings it to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” she asks as Jiron and James
begins dismounting. Then the horse turns and she sees the deep gash
and the trail of blood flowing down its side. Nodding, she
dismounts as well.

“Looks like we’re on foot from here,” states
Jiron. Looking to Aleya he adds, “There’s no way your horse will
support all three of us for long. Go ahead and get out of here,
there’s no sense in you dying too.”

“You’ll stand a better chance with an archer
than just by yourselves,” she tells him. “You aren’t getting rid of
me so easily.” She sees the protest building behind his eyes and
adds, “Besides, where am I going to go?”

Giving in to the logic, he gives her a grin
as he replies, “I was hoping you’d say that, but I had to give you
the option.”

“Can we stop all this jibber jabber and get
out of here?” James asks impatiently.

Heading downhill, they make their way as
fast as possible through the undergrowth of the forest. Aleya keeps
one of her remaining arrows in hand for a quick draw should the
need arise.

Up the hill behind them, they can hear the
sound of many people crashing through the forest in pursuit. Horns
begin sounding behind them and are soon answered by horns both in
front of and all around them.

“They’ve got us encircled!” Jiron
exclaims.

“Continue down,” insists James. “It’s our
only chance!”

Rushing headlong toward the waiting soldiers
they each know must be down there, James suddenly notices a stream
that abruptly appears out of a clump of fallen trees. Not
understanding why it should nag at him, he comes to a stop.

“What’re you stopping for?” Jiron asks as he
comes back to where James is standing near the fallen trees.

“This stream is flowing out of these trees,”
he says. “But it doesn’t flow into them.”

“So?” he asks, scanning around for
hostiles.

James begins making his way to the base of
the pile as he continues, “Doesn’t it seem odd for a stream to
suddenly appear like this?”

“No,” replies Aleya, joining in. “It’s
probably being fed by an underground spring.”

“Maybe,” replies James. He hears Aleya’s
startled intake of breath as his orb materializes in his hand.
Holding it out, he peers within the pile. “It looks like there may
be space enough in here for all of us. Maybe we could hide until
the coast is clear.”