Ghost Fields - Book One of The Fields of Mendhavai Trilogy

Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Yet again, my pleasure was interrupted when Lundir jerked his head up, snorting, and pricked his ears forward, looking to the south. Danger, he warned me.

Danu looked confused when I ended our kiss prematurely. I put my finger to his lips and we both listened intently. Nothing could be heard but the singing of birds in the trees and barking dogs from the village.

What is it Lundir? I asked.

Riders, one is ahead, being pursued. There are four following, hungry for blood. All five horses are exhausted.

Snatching my swords from the top of the boulder, I ran to Lundir and tightened his cinch before I leapt into the saddle. Danu followed my example but quickly bridled the mare as I told him what Lundir had heard. We trotted down the narrow trail to the road as fast as the sharp loose stones would allow.

I could hear the uneven pounding of hooves from the first horse just before we reached the dusty dirt road. It sounded like it was lame in one leg and making a great effort not to stumble. A moment later, the sound of its labored breathing reached our ears as well.

Guiding Lundir to the center of the road, I turned him so we were facing south as Danu guided Reiney, his mount, to stand beside us. The road bent around the base of the hill and my view was blocked by one of the large pillars that had tumbled down. But only a few moments later, the sound of hoof beats was followed by a lathered dapple-gray. Its small rider was barely clinging to the saddle in exhaustion and fear. Lundir bobbed his head at the horse in some unspoken reassurance and it slowed as it approached. The gray looked old, her ribs and hipbones showed pitifully, and her nostrils, flared larger than my fist, seeped blood. The mare was spent.

I didn’t have time to survey her rider, as four stocky little mountain ponies came flying around the bend. Lundir reared, striking out with his front hooves, his ears pinned and his teeth snapped in warning as I shouted, “Hold!”

Whether my command or Lundir’s flashing hooves was the cause I may never know, but the ponies dropped their hindquarters and slid to a stop, eyes rolling in panic.

Their necks were lathered, but they looked to be in much better condition than the poor dapple mare. The riders wore dark leather armor over black breeches and deep blue tunics with no household seal. They all wore their long hair bound in a leather thong, their beards and mustaches were long, braided and laced with wooden beads and their bushy eyebrows drooped over dark eyes.

They fit only one description I’d ever read or heard in my sheltered life in Raldia - mountain men. They were the fiercest warriors on Riis, often hiring themselves out as mercenaries, and crossing them could mean one’s death.

“Tell me, why are you pursuing this poor horse and her rider?” I demanded as Danu brought his mare forward to stand beside me, blocking their path to the man on the exhausted dapple. She was now standing behind us, legs splayed like a newborn colt, head hung to the ground as she breathed heavily, blood dripping from her nostrils to pool on the dusty road.

The leader, a man with many colored beads in his hair and beard, spurred his bay gelding forward a few steps. He pointed his sword behind us. “That boy stole that horse, and food from us. Both crimes are punishable by death,” he growled, and his followers nodded, grumbling.

“Perhaps it is punishable by death where you are from, as is every crime, I’ve no doubt. But here in Raldia people are heard justly before being deemed criminals and punished. You’ll not harm a hair on the man’s head as long as he is in my custody,” I told him firmly.