Harbinger

Harbinger Prologue

Prologue

The dark of the night engulfed everything but the screeching wind. As the rider dressed in black drew his blade noiselessly. Moonlight reflected off the polished metal. As the light danced along the surface, it revealed runes of an age long since passed. The rider span the blade without a sound as if knowing what came next. There was a whoosh and arrows impacted his black Stallions neck. As the horse dropped the rider leaped, landing perfectly blade in hand. The horse hit the ground. The air was filled with sounds of agony bubbling through the blood pooling in its neck, without a seconds hesitation the rider sunk the blade into the beast neck, ending its suffering. The blade seamed to drink the blood. Runes now red, the rider span, the blade catching an arrow mid-flight and cutting it in two. His hands blurred and two knifes appeared flying towards the ambushers. There was a scream, followed by a long drawn out gargling noise as the blades found home in the first archers neck. The second archer loosed an arrow; the rider drove forward rolling to avoid it. He ran bringing the blade still red with the horse’s blood around. The archer hurriedly grabbed for another arrow from the sheaf on his back. It was too late; his head fell from his body as the black rider arrived. The now headless body fell forward onto its knees and toppled turning the snow blood red.

The rider stopped, sword still in hand and listened. Once again only the screeching wind filled the air. He turned his attention to the headless body of the second archer and checked under the furs that protected it from the cold not that they did him any good now. In one pouch attached to the archers leg. There was a letter, although slightly stained with still warm blood the seal of the Imperial Captain Legionary Raynus Slark was still clearly visible.

The rider will be heading west towards the hold of Yera along the hidden pass. I want him alive; you will receive payment for your services when he is returned to me in Sitraki. Failure will mean death. This rider is dangerous; he is a master with the sword. We trust your skills will be sufficient to capture the rider.

Legionary Raynus Slark, Captain of the Imperial Legion at Sitraki.

"Bastard" The rider muttered under his breath sheathing his sword and stuffing the note away beneath his own furs. He stood fresh snow blowing being whipped up around him by the coming storm, eyes closed as if cleansing himself of the blood spilt at his hands mere moments before.

The wind grew stronger still pulling more snow into the air as if trying to capture the rider. The sheer force of the gale broke whatever trance had overcome him. He moved almost as quickly as he had in the melee. Starting to look around for a place to shelter for the night. Staying out in the Storms that engulfed this part of Seliq was suicide.