01 Darkwalker On Moonshae by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Realms, Forgotten]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-04-10T15:05:36.108000+00:00

* * * * *

Laric led all of the Bloodriders, pursuing the morsel of life with tightly focused energy. He wanted, in fact needed, to kill. The white mare and its tiny but vibrantly strong rider would yield considerable sustenance. Although several of the Bloodriders stayed close to Laric, most of the rest fell away with distance. Fueled by his lust for blood alone, Laric was the only one, finally, who managed to keep the white ghost in sight. Finally, the Bloodrider emerged from the woods and halted. Even the bloodlust pounding in his skull could not compel him to suicide, and further pursuit would be such. The white ghost had joined a band of similar mounts. They regarded him cautiously as he studied them, until finally Laric turned back to the forest. As he stepped into the shadow of the trees, he turned and studied the group of knights. His burning gaze sought, and found, his original quarry - the knight dressed for scouting. He recalled the feeling of the quarry when his blow had almost struck home. Warm and succulent - he wanted that one.

And he would get her.

* * * * *

Tristan felt a knot of worry grow in his stomach, and turn to pace nervously. He stood atop the low hill - a local farmer had called it Freeman's Down. From here he could see the entire length of his line. The view also carried up a shallow slope about five hundred paces, toward the forest from which the raiders would emerge. The dwarves squatted around him, resting and talking quietly. They projected an aura of routine, and the prince envied their calm demeanor. From the base of the hill to the river, lined up along the ditch, four hundred men and women of the Eastern Cantrevs stood, carrying an assortment of weapons that included pikes, spears, pitchforks, axes, and sharpened stakes. Every twenty paces, for the length of this line, the prince had appointed a cantrev lord, or respected elder, or veteran soldier, with instructions to steady and lead the others. Some distance behind this line, Gavin stood with another group of similarly armed Ffolk, the reserve. Many of Arlen's lessons had drilled home the importance of a reserve, and the prince had determined with the creation of his plan that one of every three volunteers would form such a unit. On the far side of t he hill rested another group of Ffolk that Tristan had been happy to recruit. About two score in number - mostly woodsmen and hunters - each of them carried a longbow and several dozen arrows. The prince kept his archers out of sight for the time being, th e desirability of surprise being another of Arlen's oft-repeated tactical lessons. A file of white shapes emerged from the trees, and Tristan then heard the sound of dwarven axes biting into timber. The sound had been a common one all afternoon, as Robyn and the dwarves had worked to make the forest a difficult passage for the army of raiders.

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