Prophecy

II Something to Believe in

"You will not be safe here," he had told me.

The ladies had bathed me and clothed me. I still felt their hands upon me. I shivered. Prodding, poking, pulling at my hair. I wanted to scream. They dressed me in men's clothes. My hair they fought and pinned into a knot on top of my head was already escaping, long tufts falling down my back and around my face. I felt breached and violated.

I could feel the man's anxiety before he approached. He stalked quietly, slowly drawing his sword from it's scabbard. He wasn't alone either about five other soldiers followed him in each gripping the hilts of their swords with sweaty hands. The first man was near me when an arrow pierced his heart. Pain. His pain became mine and he crumpled softly to the floor. I gasped, dropping to my knee clutching at my chest. Before any of the men could react another arrow hit it's target and a man in dark robes dropped into their midst and plunged an arrow into another before shoving his fist into the face before him, forcing the man backwards. Before I could blink twice all six soldiers were sprawled on the floor. I winced as their suffering filled my body. I couldn't move. The hooded figure swept towards me his bow in his hand. My eyes met his. He stopped. I couldn't feel him. His mind was blocked from mine. But he could distinguish the fear in my eyes.

"Are you hurt?" his voice was low and husky,

His eyes darted over me, my body was quavering, my heart and mind in agony. As if I too had died six times and still lived.

Bemont rushed to my side with a glance at his friend.

"What on earth happened?" he exclaimed rubbing my arms, "are you hurt? She's shaking Archiba, what did you do?"

The man just looked away. His eyes hidden beneath the hood.

"We must be gone," Bemont lifted me to my feet and took my hand in his, "come."

He led us outside the fortress to a stable. The horses whinnied as he opened the rusted doors. Their attention focused on the intruders. Bemont led me to a gray stallion. The horse was huge. My head just barely reached his whithers. His mane was silky and long reaching his shoulders and muscles rippled across his powerful body. He was pure white, almost ghostly, with a clean shimmer upon his coat.

"This is Saragon," Bemont smiled proudly, "may he serve you well."

Without warning Bemont boosted me onto the excited draft's broad back. The animal pranced beneath me. Two thousand pounds of flesh bouncing between my legs. The horse had no bridle or saddle and I looked unsure at Bemont.

"It's okay,"he smiled, "to tell Saragon what to do, you simply think of what you want to do. He has not yet been paired so once he connects to you, he will be your loyalist companion and fiercest sheild-brother. Don't be afraid."

They were getting closer, I could feel it, Saragon could feel it. Bemont knew it.

"You have not much time," Bemont said, patting the horse's neck, "be safe, ride fast."

Archiba had mounted his charger as black as night and stood waiting for us.

"Good luck my friend." he said to Bemont in a language I barely knew,

They held each other's gaze before Bemont nodded,

"Remember the tower and it's inhabitance for they have surely sworn."

Thor galloped out the stables with a decisive thought but Saragon hesitated as I looked back at Bemont standing in the ill lit stable. He raised his hand in farewell,

"Go now Neorah, light of the seven races, God's speed."

We broke into a canter, Saragon and I, his legs lifted neatly beneath him, power surging through his veins. Think. Soldiers were filing out the barracks and archers fitted their bows. Ahead of me Thor waited by the gates. My mind merged with my mount and he charged down the cobblestone road to freedom.