The Journey to Karrith by Ted Neill

Author:Ted Neill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tenebray Press
Published: 2016-12-11T16:00:00+00:00

The squires proved easy to cajole into saddling their own horses and riding in as reinforcements. They were all too eager for the opportunity to prove themselves and come to the aid of their king, beating their shields and calling out war cries, some with voices that still cracked with youth. Gail had ridden with young warriors before but often they were hardened, hand-selected by her for cruelty and lack of conscience. How these boys would hold up in the horrors of battle she was less sure. Soft, she thought most of them, and pampered from city life.

All that was about to change.

If she was right. If not, it would be the pillory post for her or even the gallows.

Gail had around four dozen riders, no time for an exact count. She kept Kevin and Patrick at the front with her. Her two friends had shared the “orders from the king,” so most of the impressionable squires assumed that Kevin and Patrick had been left in charge. It suited her needs. Kevin and Patrick were well liked, well respected, and proficient at relaying her orders, calling them out with the deep voice that she lacked.

They rode out of the camp following the hoof prints of the cavalry in the sandy soil of the steppes. It made for easy tracking but she did not like what she saw: the Maurvant had retreated into a narrow gorge, a dry riverbed making for swift passage. Too swift. She urged her horse onward to where the canyon walls narrowed then pulled up hard on the reins, the riders coming to a stop behind her.

The way was blocked. A pile of rock fall, three men deep, barred the way. The landslide was fresh, dust still hung in the air, and rocks were still settling in place. From the other side she could hear the sounds of war horns, the cries of men, and the clash of arms.

“There is nothing natural about this rock slide. It was to cut off their escape.”

“Do we climb over?” Kevin asked.

“No, we’d have to leave our horses and we don’t want to surrender that advantage. Ride back. Half should take the north side of the canyon, half the south. We’ll ride along the rim and use the high ground to our advantage.”

She did not wait for comment or even agreement. She simply kicked her own horse, parted the cadre of squires behind her, and hoped they were not too late. There was no relief for her mount; she drove him hard through the scrub and shifting rocks along the dry wadi, briars and branches whipping her legs. Soot croaked and flapped his wings overhead. Half the riders peeled away to the north where the slope of the canyon wall was gentle and they started climbing in a cloud of dust.

How few they seemed once divided.

Their way on the south slope of the canyon was not as easy, the horses floundering on the scree. From halfway up, however, she had a better vantage point on the rim of the canyon to the east.

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