indifferent to the proceedings, though he
did look on with some interest as the mare’s excited state
built. Dash held tight to the mare’s bridle, rubbing her nose
and speaking close to her ear in a reassuring fashion.
The riders came
close and Dash judged there must be at least a dozen of them from the
clatter. Voices cut through the air and a man laughed. These were men
who patrolled a familiar area and expected nothing out of the
ordinary.
Dash held tight
to the bridle and continued to speak softly to his mare as the horses
came to the point of closest approach on the trail. Suddenly Dash’s
horse pulled backwards and her head came up.
For an instant
there was a tiny hope she might come back to him, but then she called
out her greeting, a loud whinny.
Suddenly shouts
filled the air and other horses answered the mare’s call. Jimmy
didn’t hesitate. “That way!”
Malar shoved
through underbrush and ignored scratches from branches as he went
where Jimmy had directed. Jimmy came next, leading his gelding, eyes
wide and nostrils flaring from excitement. The mare balked and
resisted as she screamed her welcome to the other horses. A
stallion’s herd cry answered, and Dash knew the only way he
could control his mare was from her back. Letting her head come
around toward the stallion, he quickly swung up onto her back,
exposing himself to view.
He didn’t
hesitate, and slammed heels into her flanks. Urging her into a
gallop, he seemed to burst from the underbrush toward those riders
arrayed on the trail. Then he was past them, moving away from his
brother and Malar, and die chase was on.
From a vantage
point a short distance off, Jimmy turned and saw the riders wheel and
charge after Dash. Malar, almost out of breath, puffed as he said,
“Sir, will they catch him?”
Jimmy swore.
“Probably. But if they don’t, he should try to get back
to that farmhouse. That’s what we planned.”
“Shall we
turn around?” asked the servant.
Jimmy was
silent. After a moment he said, “No. Dash will either be
captured, in which case we can’t help him escape, or he’ll
win free. If he gets back to that farmhouse we found the day we met
you, he’ll wait one or two days, then return to Darkmoor. If we
go now, we’ll have no more information than he will.”
“We go to
Krondor?”
“We go to
Krondor,” said Jimmy. He glanced around, seeking any sign of
other riders in the area. As the sound of Dash and his pursuers faded
into die distance, he pointed and said, “That way.”
As quietly as
they could, the pair set off.
Dash rode as
hard as he could, despite the balky mare, who wanted to turn and
greet the stallions behind. Every hint of hesitation from her brought
a hard kick to her sides as he used every skill he had to keep her
heading down a windy woodland trail made dangerous by mud and ice,
overhanging branches, and sudden turns.
Dash knew that
if his old riding instructor, the King’s own horsemaster, could
see what he was doing, he’d be shouting at the top of his
lungs, telling Dash to slow down. Dash knew his race across
treacherous footing was unbelievably dangerous and foolhardy.
He couldn’t
spare a glance back to see how close his pursuers might be, but the
noise behind him told him all he needed to know: they were close. It
would take a stroke of luck for him to lose them. He knew that to
them he was a dimly-seen figure on a horse moving through the long
shadows of the woodlands, but as long as he stayed on the trail, they
would be able to stay close and not lose him.
He had a rough
idea where he was. There were a dozen or more woodland trails to the
east of Krondor that led to farms throughout the area. He knew that
eventually—if he outran his pursuers—he’d hit the
King’s Highway. A horse’s scream and a panic-stricken
rider’s cry told Dash that one of his pursuers’ mounts
had lost footing and was down, probably breaking a leg.
Dash glanced to
the left and saw the trees
did look on with some interest as the mare’s excited state
built. Dash held tight to the mare’s bridle, rubbing her nose
and speaking close to her ear in a reassuring fashion.
The riders came
close and Dash judged there must be at least a dozen of them from the
clatter. Voices cut through the air and a man laughed. These were men
who patrolled a familiar area and expected nothing out of the
ordinary.
Dash held tight
to the bridle and continued to speak softly to his mare as the horses
came to the point of closest approach on the trail. Suddenly Dash’s
horse pulled backwards and her head came up.
For an instant
there was a tiny hope she might come back to him, but then she called
out her greeting, a loud whinny.
Suddenly shouts
filled the air and other horses answered the mare’s call. Jimmy
didn’t hesitate. “That way!”
Malar shoved
through underbrush and ignored scratches from branches as he went
where Jimmy had directed. Jimmy came next, leading his gelding, eyes
wide and nostrils flaring from excitement. The mare balked and
resisted as she screamed her welcome to the other horses. A
stallion’s herd cry answered, and Dash knew the only way he
could control his mare was from her back. Letting her head come
around toward the stallion, he quickly swung up onto her back,
exposing himself to view.
He didn’t
hesitate, and slammed heels into her flanks. Urging her into a
gallop, he seemed to burst from the underbrush toward those riders
arrayed on the trail. Then he was past them, moving away from his
brother and Malar, and die chase was on.
From a vantage
point a short distance off, Jimmy turned and saw the riders wheel and
charge after Dash. Malar, almost out of breath, puffed as he said,
“Sir, will they catch him?”
Jimmy swore.
“Probably. But if they don’t, he should try to get back
to that farmhouse. That’s what we planned.”
“Shall we
turn around?” asked the servant.
Jimmy was
silent. After a moment he said, “No. Dash will either be
captured, in which case we can’t help him escape, or he’ll
win free. If he gets back to that farmhouse we found the day we met
you, he’ll wait one or two days, then return to Darkmoor. If we
go now, we’ll have no more information than he will.”
“We go to
Krondor?”
“We go to
Krondor,” said Jimmy. He glanced around, seeking any sign of
other riders in the area. As the sound of Dash and his pursuers faded
into die distance, he pointed and said, “That way.”
As quietly as
they could, the pair set off.
Dash rode as
hard as he could, despite the balky mare, who wanted to turn and
greet the stallions behind. Every hint of hesitation from her brought
a hard kick to her sides as he used every skill he had to keep her
heading down a windy woodland trail made dangerous by mud and ice,
overhanging branches, and sudden turns.
Dash knew that
if his old riding instructor, the King’s own horsemaster, could
see what he was doing, he’d be shouting at the top of his
lungs, telling Dash to slow down. Dash knew his race across
treacherous footing was unbelievably dangerous and foolhardy.
He couldn’t
spare a glance back to see how close his pursuers might be, but the
noise behind him told him all he needed to know: they were close. It
would take a stroke of luck for him to lose them. He knew that to
them he was a dimly-seen figure on a horse moving through the long
shadows of the woodlands, but as long as he stayed on the trail, they
would be able to stay close and not lose him.
He had a rough
idea where he was. There were a dozen or more woodland trails to the
east of Krondor that led to farms throughout the area. He knew that
eventually—if he outran his pursuers—he’d hit the
King’s Highway. A horse’s scream and a panic-stricken
rider’s cry told Dash that one of his pursuers’ mounts
had lost footing and was down, probably breaking a leg.
Dash glanced to
the left and saw the trees
Similar Books
