Aritka was silent. The baby fussed and she shifted the child up to her shoulder. The light was already growing dim and every night sound made her nervous. The night bird’s song was eerie. Everywhere she wasn’t looking, she thought she could see movements in the shadows. “Is there someone following us?” she asked once. The black rider said nothing but looked sharply around. Aritka didn’t dare say anything after that. Somehow, she felt a little better with the cloak pulled close around her and the child, and something about speaking felt like revealing their position to the enemy.
Even so, she was sure, a few times, that there was something lurking in the shadows. So sure, in fact, that when she saw it dodge from one tree to the next, she finally said again, low, “I think there’s something there.” She looked up to find the black rider staring into the shadows as well.
“Aritka,” he said slowly, quietly. “Just up this hill is a clearing. At the top is a small farm. Hide there if –” A horn sounded, quite nearby. Aritka and the black rider jumped and turned to the sound. The black rider leaned over and untied her pack mule. “Go!” he shouted, slapping the rear of the mule. It raced up the hill and Aritka grabbed at its mane frantically, clutching the baby to her tightly.
Around her, the trees cleared as the black rider had said they would. Above was the farm. Aritka gained control of her mount and pulled him up short. Down below, Jargrare were surrounding the black rider. They had gathered fast to the sound of the horn, though the horn bearer was nowhere in sight. The black rider was bravely using his pistol to bring some of them down, all the while backing his horse up the hill. The Jargrare seemed strangely shy to simply take him all at once.
Aritka kicked the mule on up the hill to the barn where there was a haystack. She rode around it and dismounted, taking any necessary supplies off the animal and dumping them on the ground. She slapped the horse and he ran off. Stowing their things under some loose hay, she dug into the haystack itself, keeping her cloak around the child to protect it from the sharp straws. Deeper and deeper she buried herself, the fear of being smothered in the stack weighing only on the back of her mind. Instead, she was terribly afraid that the Rikaks would smell her out in the haystack and that she would not even have the chance to run.
It seemed an age before she heard anything besides her own breathing. She desperately tried to slow her beating heart, but it didn’t help that she held her breath every time she thought she heard a noise. Finally, she detected the heavy falling of horse hooves. That could only be the black rider, she reasoned, for Rikaks don’t ride horses, but she hesitated to call out. The horse went away and silence reigned again. It seemed hours before she heard another sound.
There was a scream. Aritka almost cried out herself for the horror it imparted on her. The child in her arms jolted but Aritka was too shocked to soothe her. She listened intently for another sound but there was nothing. A horrible sick feeling grew in her belly and she wanted to die. It was horrid to think of the black rider, dragged underground and torn to shreds by hungry Rikak fangs. She was tempted to run out and reveal herself, to scream and attack the Rikak – kill it if she could – but the weight of the child held her sensibly back. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she bitterly admitted there was nothing she could do. And giving herself to the Rikak was suicide. And what of the baby?
With this decided, Aritka’s mind began to turn to more optimistic thoughts. The scream had not sounded properly male – it sounded more like a girl’s scream. This was hardly comforting, really, but at least it would not have been the black rider. Perhaps her new acquaintance was still alive. But, surely, there was little chance the man could have survived.
To Be Continued....
Even so, she was sure, a few times, that there was something lurking in the shadows. So sure, in fact, that when she saw it dodge from one tree to the next, she finally said again, low, “I think there’s something there.” She looked up to find the black rider staring into the shadows as well.
“Aritka,” he said slowly, quietly. “Just up this hill is a clearing. At the top is a small farm. Hide there if –” A horn sounded, quite nearby. Aritka and the black rider jumped and turned to the sound. The black rider leaned over and untied her pack mule. “Go!” he shouted, slapping the rear of the mule. It raced up the hill and Aritka grabbed at its mane frantically, clutching the baby to her tightly.
Around her, the trees cleared as the black rider had said they would. Above was the farm. Aritka gained control of her mount and pulled him up short. Down below, Jargrare were surrounding the black rider. They had gathered fast to the sound of the horn, though the horn bearer was nowhere in sight. The black rider was bravely using his pistol to bring some of them down, all the while backing his horse up the hill. The Jargrare seemed strangely shy to simply take him all at once.
Aritka kicked the mule on up the hill to the barn where there was a haystack. She rode around it and dismounted, taking any necessary supplies off the animal and dumping them on the ground. She slapped the horse and he ran off. Stowing their things under some loose hay, she dug into the haystack itself, keeping her cloak around the child to protect it from the sharp straws. Deeper and deeper she buried herself, the fear of being smothered in the stack weighing only on the back of her mind. Instead, she was terribly afraid that the Rikaks would smell her out in the haystack and that she would not even have the chance to run.
It seemed an age before she heard anything besides her own breathing. She desperately tried to slow her beating heart, but it didn’t help that she held her breath every time she thought she heard a noise. Finally, she detected the heavy falling of horse hooves. That could only be the black rider, she reasoned, for Rikaks don’t ride horses, but she hesitated to call out. The horse went away and silence reigned again. It seemed hours before she heard another sound.
There was a scream. Aritka almost cried out herself for the horror it imparted on her. The child in her arms jolted but Aritka was too shocked to soothe her. She listened intently for another sound but there was nothing. A horrible sick feeling grew in her belly and she wanted to die. It was horrid to think of the black rider, dragged underground and torn to shreds by hungry Rikak fangs. She was tempted to run out and reveal herself, to scream and attack the Rikak – kill it if she could – but the weight of the child held her sensibly back. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she bitterly admitted there was nothing she could do. And giving herself to the Rikak was suicide. And what of the baby?
With this decided, Aritka’s mind began to turn to more optimistic thoughts. The scream had not sounded properly male – it sounded more like a girl’s scream. This was hardly comforting, really, but at least it would not have been the black rider. Perhaps her new acquaintance was still alive. But, surely, there was little chance the man could have survived.
To Be Continued....
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