Tent World

Chapter Ten--In the Camp of the Black Riders

Roy ran through the forest at top speed, but he still couldn't keep up with his friends. He was the shortest, and it was a disadvantage.

Behind him, the dogs fanned out, closing the escape routes. Ahead, Cheryl and Johnny jumped a log. He knew he couldn't make it.

He dove between the dead limbs of the downed tree and tried wiggling under the trunk. A broken limb snagged his Levis and stopped him. He struggled frantically, clawing the dirt with his hands and pushing with his feet, but he couldn't break free.

Two dogs leaped over the trunk, hitting the ground just in front of Roy's hands. A smell of rotting flesh filled the air.

He pulled himself into a ball and hoped the ferns and broken limbs would hide him. Another dog jumped over the log, coughing a bark as it landed. Galloping horses closed in from behind him. The ground shook, and dead needles jarred loose from the limbs overhead and showered him.

First one, and then another horse jumped the trunk. Dirt sprayed from the horses' hooves, and the smell of musty earth filled Roy's nostrils.

As the sound of the horses and dogs faded, Roy struggled to free himself. The limb snapped, and he lunged forward, scrambling out from under the log.

He stood ready to run for cover, but he came face to face with the point of a spear held by a fearsome figure. He stopped in his tracks. The helmeted warrior, mounted on the biggest horse Roy had ever seen, belched a gruff order that Roy didn't understand. The warrior swooped forward and grabbed Roy's shoulder with his steel-gloved hand. Roy cried out in pain, but the warrior's grip tightened, cutting into his flesh. The warrior lifted Roy off the ground and threw him over the saddle.

His horse snapped to the right at the warrior's command and jumped to a canter. The jerking up and down motion hurt Roy's chest and caused him to whimper. Again the warrior's grip tightened, and tears came to his eyes.

Several warriors gathered, and one, the leader Roy supposed, barked commands. His captor responded by spurring his horse to a gallop. A short distance down the river, he stopped, and he pulled Roy off the saddle, and tossed him to the ground. From his saddlebags the warrior pulled a leather thong, and turning Roy over, he tied the boy's hands and feet. He then pulled Roy against a thick vine and tied him to it with another thong. Standing, he looked down at his captive and grunted.

Roy hung his head. His shoulder felt as if it were on fire. His wrists hurt from the thongs, and he was sick with fear. He watched the feet of his captor as he walked onto a flat rock and stood looking down into the canyon. Roy struggled against his bonds, but they held fast. He was caught, and there was no escape.

Several hours passed, and the warrior continued to stand at his post, occasionally looking Roy's way. The storm that had earlier accompanied the warriors had dissipated, leaving the air heavy with humidity. It hung about him, forming pools of sweat on his already wet clothing.

At dusk, the other two riders trotted into the camp. They were followed by two dogs. Both animals approached him, sniffing and snorting the air, and then prodded him with their encrusted noses and watched him with their red eyes.

The warriors dismounted and removed the saddles from their mounts before tethering them. Then they took off their silver armor, exposing a black knitted material that reminded Roy of a sock. It covered their entire body, including their heads. Only their eyes, mouth, nose, and the ends of their fingers showed.

The tallest warrior unstrapped the body of a dead dog from his saddle and tossed it at the feet of another warrior, barking what sounded like an order. The warrior took the animal and disappeared into the trees.