Blade of Champions

Chapter Twelve: A New Beginning

        CHAPTER TWELVE

        A NEW BEGINNING

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Mounted on the horse the Prince had given him, Hughell sped across the plain.

 Behind, lightning snaked along the edge of the horizon. The wind pushed against his back, laden with the threat of an oncoming storm. Above, clouds gathered and rolled boundlessly, like an ever-changing mountain range.

Hughell felt like a speck caught between earth and sky, yet with every stride the sword of the Prince bumped between his shoulder blades, reminding him of his purpose. A new heart pounded within his chest: the heart of the Prince.

'Ride straight and ride swift,' the Prince had urged, pointing with His whole arm to the South-East. 'And do not fear that you will miss the way.' His final embrace had sent a rush of courage speeding through Hughell's veins.

The mare's hooves ate up the plain, one stride at a time. Ahead, a dark line spread across the horizon. As night fell Hughell entered a soaring, dark forest. He rode slowly now, alert for any sign of trouble.

In the dark, a horse’s senses are far more accurate than any human's. Aware of this, Hughell missed none of the warning signals that were coming from his horse; here a shaky snort, there a pause midstride. The muscles of her back tensed and ridged beneath the saddle; the mare felt ready to explode at the slightest whisper of attack. The darkness around them was far from empty and Hughell wished fervently for eyes that could see as well as his horse's. If only he could watch the danger for himself!

Towards midnight, the clouds rolled away to reveal a half-moon, bright as a silver coin against the velvet black. Hughell tethered his horse to a root and climbed a rocky outcrop to check his direction. His route had veered a little to the south, so he made a few calculations as he sprang and clambered back down to the horse. They would have to climb more steeply from now on, but at least they would end up on the right track.

'What do you think, eh Favour?' he muttered to the horse as he checked the girths once more and patting the sturdy bay rump. 'The sooner we're back on track, the better.' He did not like this dim, silent forest, with its twisting paths and unseen inhabitants.

But the next three days drew Hughell higher and deeper into the woods. The thunderstorm faded without relinquishing a single drop, and although the temperature cooled a little as he climbed, the breath of the wind was dry and rattled among the leaves.

As morning came to an end on the fourth day, Hughell reined Favour in beneath a soaring archway of branches. Far above his head the leaves hung and rippled in great masses and waves of weary green.

Still no sign of my mission, he thought. Could I have lost my way?

In his mind's eye he began to retrace his steps, going all the way back to where he knelt in the grass at the Prince's feet. On every occasion he had chosen to ride straight and true, just as the Prince had commanded him.

Except that one time, said a voice inside. That time when you wandered aside...  

Hughell shook his head to clear the thought. It was true. He had wandered from the path. But neither long nor far, and the moment he recognised the error he had done his utmost  to correct it. He had pursued the right course ever since.

Surely. He told himself. Surely my mission lies ahead of me still.

He moved to touch his horse, to nudge her into a walk, but a sound made him hesitate.