The Lone Rider

Chapter 7

Snow.

Snow came down in a thick sheet and covered the darkened land. Kell sat motionlessly on his horse gazing down at the sparkling valley below the foothills. Somewhere down there he could see the light of life. The light of warmth. A tiny village called to him with a warm embrace. He would have to answer the call, his body demanded it. The cold was inescapable out in the hellscape he trudged through and the lone rider could hardly feel his pain any longer. A bad sign.

His horse neighed, yanking his attention to her, and began prancing in place. The movement shook snow from their bodies, and he watched it fall and pile below him. Of course, he couldn't forget about his horse. She was probably having a worse time than he was. The provisions had already run out, and the snow was only worth water. Hunting had to be forgoes in favored time and bodily function. He would have to call on the village for rest, but he didn't like the feeling of it.

Two full days and nights had passed since the ambush in the mountains and Kell hadn't made it very far east. He followed an already fading trail, one that was now being covered and lost under the white dread. His injuries made him slow and he was sure the ones he chased grew farther away by the minute. Another stop would only make it worse, but he just couldn't go on any further. Any normal person would have died in the mountains under these conditions, but Kell persevered. He wasn't about to quit just yet.

"Alright, horse," Kell said aloud, "we're going down but we're going down slow. Keep an eye and a nose on the night, these bastards know I'm following them. If the village is safe, we'll stay, but only for the night. We can't let them get any further ahead."

The horse had already begun moving as soon as it heard the words. The village was nestled comfortably in the foothills just south of the mountains. A tiny place, probably not found on any map, but a cold place. And a hard place, Kell was sure, and filled with people who held just the same amount of trust in their bellies as they did food in the winter. If the Risen came this direction as far as he did, they would need a place to rest as well, they were more human than he was, after all, and this small village was the only place for miles to do it.

The descent took him hard into the night and Kell suspected the villagers would be fast asleep by the time he arrived. That was preferable to him anyways since he wouldn't have to deal with any of them. He could find a stable to rest in, steal some food in the early morning and be gone before anyone realized he had arrived.

When Kell finally left the mountains and followed a small snow-covered trail down a hill he was surprised to find that just the opposite was occurring in the village. Lanterns and torches still blazed the village alight with fire and warmth and a soft echoing rhythm emanated from a large building near the center of it all. Kell paused for a moment and listened to the air. The sound of music whispered softly through the snow splattered nightscape.

For a moment, Kell thought of veering off and leaving the village behind to take his chances in the wilderness once again. Why the hell would hard working villagers be singing on a night like this, so cold and merciless? Something was wrong here and Kell could tell. He pulled the reins of his horse to the side but stopped when he heard voices below him. Down the hill, just at the cusp of the village, a couple laughed merrily under the haze of snow. Kell could just barely make them out, but he was sure—very sure—that the two of them were... Skipping?

He did a double take at the two and watched them skip and sing down the main road through the village. They met another group near the large center structure and all of them lifted their arms in joy and shouted at each other and shared hugs. He watched them all enter the lively building together just as another cheerful song began to be sung.