Borne of Fire

Chapter 39

"Wh-?" Braxter's voice was silenced by the hand held tightly over his mouth. Two black eyes, darker than the night around them hovered above him, reflecting the moonlight and stared unblinking into the trees. Braxter had been resting relatively peacefully since they had made camp - the night being not as cold as it had been on previous nights, the rain having stopped and the wind having died down. Now his heart hammered against the inside of his chest as he tried to sit up, pushing in vain at the hand clenched over his mouth. L'non kept his grip in place easily but looked down at Braxter briefly, the index finger of his other hand extended and placed over his closed lips. Braxter understood the message and although he stopped struggling, he was far from relaxed as L'non removed his hand.

"Rider. Coming in fast" He whispered, bending his head low so that his mouth was almost touching Braxters ear.

They had made camp when the light of the day had begun to fade as had become their habit. The idea of using torches or L'non's trick to light their way was tempting, but the danger of announcing their whereabouts so obviously was too great to ignore. After an all too brief supper of roots and leaves, coupled with a chunk of the bread which was all that remained of the supplies they had left Heldaro with, they had gone to sleep. Ja'aris had taken first watch followed by L'non. It was supposed to have been Braxters turn next and then finally L'non once again but it now looked like that plan had been changed.

"Wh-" started Braxter again but was cut off by L'non.

"Ja'aris saw him and woke Randyl and myself. They took off to bring him in before he rides right over us." L'non spoke quietly with clipped words, continuing to stare off into the trees. "Hush now. No more questions. Here they come."

Braxter squinted his eyes, looking in the direction L'non was facing but other than the vague outline of the closest trees he could see nothing more. Then he heard the moaning. Followed closely by the rustle of leaves and the soft thump of horses hooves. Eventually the outline of a horse and rider emerged from the trees with Ja'aris on one side and Randyl on the other, both of whom wore matching grim expressions. The rider himself looked in very poor shape - his clothing was dishevelled and he had cuts to both his hands and face. While still conscious it didn't look as if he would remain that way for much longer.

It was because of his state of disarray that that it took Braxter a few moments to recognise the man.

"Darek?" he asked, his eyes growing wide in surprise.

"Water...please...water...a drink...anything." The rider, who under all the dirt from the road, cuts and bruises and torn clothes was indeed Darek of Heldaro, gasped and held out one hand imploringly. This turned out to be almost enough to cause him to tumble from his saddle. But for Randyl's restraining hand he most certainly would have done. Instead he slid sideways, feet first to the ground before being lowered to a half sitting-half kneeling position with his legs curled beneath him.

Ja'aris led his horse to one side, whispering calming words in it's ear, one hand on it's reins and his other stroking it's neck. Foam had gathered at the corner of its mouth, it's eyes rolled and twin plumes of white breath blew from it's flaring nostrils as it panted. Although Ja'aris held it's reins tightly, the horse bucked it's head up and down, shaking it from side to side as if disagreeing with what the Watcher was saying. Still Ja'aris continued to hold it with one hand, stroking the horse's long neck and speaking his words of calm.

L'non handed his canteen of water to Darek, crouching beside him so the two were at the same eye level. Only when Darek had drunk deeply, spilling as much again over himself in his eagerness to quench his thirst, and he had taken a moment to compose himself as much as he could, did L'non seem satisfied that he wasn't going to pass out.