A Warrior's Redemption (The Warrior Kind) (16 page)

I made a great show of unsaddling Flin and making camp for the night. I even went so far as to make a quick batch of pan bread. After my meal I surreptitiously surrounded the outer rim of the fire pit with the stones from the creek, as I appeared for all intent and purposes to be cleaning my dinner dishes. The fire had burned down some and now I built a trifold of sticks over the fire that would slowly release wood and keep the fire burning long into the night. Only my trifold setup was going to be a quick release mechanism in about a half hour or so. Moving to my bedrole on the edge of the fire’s light I lay down on it and paused for a few mo
ments and then I carefully slid out the far side of it into the darkness beyond the fire’s light.

I had made sure to throw my saddle outside the fire light’s range earlier and I had hobbled Flin on a patch of good grass some thirty feet from the fire, another thing I would never have done if I was making a serious camp. Grabbing Flin’s bridal I quickly saddled him and moved off northward along the ridge first walking and then riding soft
ly, as noise travels far after dark.

Pausing a half mile away up higher in the foot hills of the mountains I listened for signs of pursuit, but I heard none. I watched the camp below me in the distance, as I sat on top of Flin. Both of us were completely still and silent in the darkness of the night as we waited.

The sticks had fallen into the fire and were burning quite brightly now. Shadows suddenly appeared out of the dark
ness around the fire and not less than three lances were jammed into my vacant bedroll, while two other figures stood back and observed. Upon realizing my absence I could hear voices
raised
loudly in argument.

Somebody was getting dressed down royally. Served them right, that had been a good blanket I had left by the fire I wryly mused to myself. It was going to be a cold night without it, but I was glad at the prospect of being able to at least still feel the cold. Having come to some consensus the shadowy figures by the fire stopped arguing and were about to exit the camp when it happened.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions rocked the night air in a continuous staccato of sound! I grinned broadly with satisfaction. This was well worth suffering a little discomfort for, as I watched the mayhem breaking out in the camp below. I couldn’t have planned it any better. The ice cold riverstones had heated up and blown apart at precisely the right moment. Chaos en
sued in the camp below.

I doubted that the shattered stone fragments had killed any of them or even seriously injured them, but their sense of being in control of the hunt was gone as well as the advantage of surprise. Still smiling I pulled Flin back around to the trail and proceeded slowly up the mountain path by the light of the half moon that was glimmering overhead.

After last night whoever was following me could harbor no doubts as to my knowledge of their pursuit of me. The dust cloud on my back trail was clear evidence that they real
ized stealth was no longer an option they considered worth pursuing. Pausing on a ridge I looked back at the five riders following me. Zoarinian Horse Guardsman by the look of them. They were pushing their horses hard to catch up with me and I made no attempt to hide my trail.

I finally crossed over a small crest into a valley in between some low mountains. On the far side of the short val
ley was a close knit grove of pine trees, which I now headed for.

The trees had grown close to each other and there was lit
tle light in the dark confines of the pine forest. Having gone some distance into the pines I dismounted from Flin and tethered him behind some deadfalls, where he was unlikely to be noticed right away. Putting a little distance between me and Flin I stopped roughly eighty feet back from the edge of the pine grove, where it met the valley meadow I had just ridden through.

I climbed one of the pines, until I was about twenty feet off the ground. Resting on a sturdy branch I pulled two of the Nizak blades from my belt and waited for my pursuers to come to me. I was done with running. Last night had been all the warning that I was willing to give, as to the danger of following
me
and they had not heeded it.

The day was hot for early spring, but it felt good within the cool darkness of the forest. After a while I heard the
brush of a stirrup against a tree, accompanied by the sounds of movement from several riders in the close confines of the pine forest. They were riding single file directly following the trail I had left. In the darkness of the forest they didn’t see me sitting motionless high up in the tree. I made sure not to stare at them directly as well, but rather I kept my gaze off focus. A concentrated stair can often alert the intended victim on some unconscious level to the unseen dan
ger posed to them, why I did not know, but I had found it to be true none the less.

I waited until the middle rider of the five was directly un
derneath me and then I jumped. Time seemed to slow down as I fell through the air. The ability of being able to plan a series of moves, before the completion of an action is a hard won talent. So much energy and opportunity is lost in the panic of the moment.

In the beginning of my time in the arena I had relied on a nerved up approach to combat, with its basis rooted firmly in the simple need to survive. In that approach to fighting one’s ability to take damage better than and longer than your opponent is your only hope, as well as the longevity of your energy level. As time had progressed I had learned to tone down the chatter and focus on the simplicity of the action required ignoring the less important factors and unnecessary movements. I had learned to fight smart.

Everything could come into play; environment, frame of mind, abilities’ of the opponent, surprise, and last of all mere chance. Some things where impossible to predict how they
might occur, which was the risk taken. But no risk taken meant survival was doubtful. Success often belongs to the one willing to sweep in and snatch it out of the jaws of indecision. As my feet landed on the back end of the third horse in the column I allowed my momentum to exaggerate the bending down of my knees forcing a deep squat. In that in
stance I rammed my left hand, which was holding a Nizak blade backward into the rider behind me, where his armor meshed together in the center of his back. The knife went in to the hilt, as it found the weak spot of the armor.

Pushing off with both legs, I leaped off the back end of the surprised horse straight at the fourth rider dislodging my stuck blade as I sprang forward. My left leg stretched out before me in my leap and cleared the side of the horse’s head and landed on the front left shoulder of the horse, which pushed the horse to
my left
from the momentum of my body hitting it through the contact of my leg. I pushed off with that leg sending me towards a pine tree beyond
and off to the side of
the rider. As I headed for the tree through the air, I buried the knife in my left hand beneath the rider’s shoulder where there was no armor.

I switched the knife from my right hand to my left in midair. Free from the knife it had held, my right hand wrapped around the smooth trunk of a young pine tree, which helped slow my momentum to the ground as I spiraled around the tree trunk. The last rider’s horse reacting to the fright of the other animals was shying away from me causing the back of the rider to be exposed, even as he struggled to
regain control of his mount. Leaping onto the back of the horse, my left hand made a quick slice across its rider’s throat with my knife. I continued on a controlled fall over the right side of the horse as the rider fell clutching at his throat over the left side of the horse.

I somersaulted to my feet in time to see the second rider in the column pulled off to the side aiming an arrow straight at my chest. Throwing myself to the side I felt the arrow slide along my ribs on my left side. Throwing the Nizak blade overhanded I watched it hit him in the throat causing him to gasp loudly and drop the bow. He fell heavily to the ground, as his horse galloped off.

The first rider had turned in the narrow confines of the forest and charged me now with his lance pointed down. Mere moments before he would have impaled me I slipped behind a young pine tree trunk. I heard the swish of the bladed lance slicing through the air, where I had just been moment before. Coming around the tree trunk I threw my last knife hard, with my right hand and watched as it lodged to the hilt low down on the rider’s back piercing its way through the armor platelets. He managed to stay on his horse, until he made it to the meadow and there he fell off heavily to the ground.

Grimly I watched the fallen rider struggle to rise only to fall back to the ground. It gave me no pleasure to kill, but these men had asked for what they had gotten for tracking me down. I collected my knives not wanting to see such fine weapons rot in the undergrowth of this dark forest. Reach
ing down to retrieve a knife I winced, as the arrow wound reminded me of its presence. My fingers found the wound on my side. The arrow had hit nothing vital, but it had left a nasty gash where it had skidded off my ribs, and the wound was bleeding profusely.

Flin perked up an ear at my reappearance and even looked halfway interested that I had returned. Gathering the reins I led him through the forest and out to where the last soldier lay. The warmth of the afternoon sun felt good, after the cool moist darkness of the forest. Blood dripped off my fingers, which held a wadded up piece of rag to the wound in my side, as I approached the last soldier in the meadow.

The man was still conscious, but he didn’t have long by the looks of it.

Looking up at me he coughed up some blood as he shook his head, “Should have known better than to come after you! I saw you fight in the arena once.” He said.

“Who sent you?” I asked.

“Marfoul and some others like him. He doesn’t like you very much.” He said grinning up at me.

A surge of pain wiped the grin off his face. He looked around at the beautiful mountain scenery. “Well I guess this is as good a spot as any to die.”

Looking up at me he said, “See you in hell, Roric.”

With that last comment said, which felt like a bad stain on the beauty around us, he breathed his last. Shaking my head sadly I reflected on the wasted life that lay extinguished before me.
A man that with his dying breadth had wished me to go to hell.
Hell thankfully wasn’t my likely destination anymore and nothing that anybody could say could ever make it so again.

I wanted to see what lay beyond the array of vibrantly shimmering colors of that doorway in the clouds I had seen. To be surrounded by people like the Kurts and my own par
ents, but most of all I wanted to forever serve the Creator, who cared enough about me to extend an invitation to me even after all the evil I had done to close the door.

Moving towards Flin I started to mount him, when I no
ticed his ears flicker and his head turn towards the path we had come through to reach this alpine valley. Moving around Flin’s head I took in the unpleasant sight of a long line of at least eighty mounted riders, who were stretched out across the narrow valley.

The line continued to advance as I mounted Flin. Sensing the tension in the air I could feel Flin tensing up to make a run for it, if I needed him to. “It’s okay Flin.” I said leaning forward and patting his neck. Obediently, he stopped nervously prancing and remained still waiting for direction from me, one big mass of bunched up muscles. The riders drew closer and I saw that they weren’t Zoarinians.

They were Valley Landers. I relaxed even more, as I saw Seth and Rolf in the column of riders. The latter two rode out to me at a full gallop followed by the other riders at a more reserved pace. Seth leaped off his horse and I got down too. He embraced me in a bear hug that I was ill pre
pared for and grimacing slightly I returned it painfully. Rolf,
still seated on horseback nodded his head silently in a wel
coming gesture that I returned back to him.

“Seth, stop mobbing him! Can’t you see he’s injured?”

Seth stepped back and spread my vest back from the wound. Whistling through his teeth he shook his head, “Nasty, but not life threatening unless untreated. Here sit down on this rock and we’ll get you fixed up in no time boss.”

Seth moved off towards his horse’s saddle bags. Sitting down I looked up at Rolf, with a question in my eyes. Meet
ing my gaze he responded, “The children and Larc are safe.”

Relieved my attention shifted to the Valley Lander contingent of cavalry, who had pulled up all around us. Their leader was an older man, with a grey streaked beard and long hair that matched. That was where the effects of advanced age seemed to stop. His eyes were alive with a quick intelli
gence and he no doubt could handle himself still as a warrior given his strong warrior bearing.

“My name is General Nadero and it would appear that you have had a spot of trouble.”

His words, while affable enough didn’t reach his eyes, as I could see that he was deeply troubled over the appearance of Zoarinian troops so far within the outer borders of the Valley Lands.

I nodded my head yes in answer to his statement of fact.

“A man of few words I see. A good way to be in these perilous days I think. There are far too many yodels spouting off everything in their head.”

I was bemused at the sudden tirade by the older man. His eccentricity’s had me liking him already somehow, “Pleased to meet you General Nadero. I’m the son of Lorn Ta’lont and I wish to have safe passage into the Valley Lands.”