All three of the elves shrieked in startled pain, as they were showered with wooden splinters. Thinking instinctually that Hyden had attacked, one of them drew out a dagger and charged.
“HOLD!” the elven archer screamed out, so loudly that it startled Hyden out of the strange, trance-like state he had fallen into. The knife bearing elf froze in his tracks. The elven archer was looking up at the sky with his hand held at his brow to shade his eyes from the sun’s glare. Several trickles of blood ran down his cheeks like tears. For some reason, Hyden was reminded of the tear drop scar on Shaella’s otherwise perfect face. Then the sound of fat heavy rain drops, and the screams of people from several different directions, filled his ears.
The elf was screaming something that Hyden couldn’t understand, and then Little Condlin made a wheezing, muffled grunt behind him. Hyden whirled around, to find that the boy had an arrow sticking up out of his shoulder. His cousin was trying to scream, but for some reason couldn’t manage it. It wasn’t raindrops he was hearing, Hyden realized as tears filled his eyes. He dove to catch the boy, as he staggered to his knees. Talon somehow got pinned between them, and was shrieking and flapping madly. Blood dribbled down Little Condlin’s chin from his mouth. Arrows were raining down on them, and Hyden had no clue as to why it was happening, or what he could do about it.
Without any regard for his own safety, he hovered over Little Condlin and Talon, shielding them with his body, while shouts and screams, and the sound of ringing steel filled the air around them. A perfect Summer’s Day had just turned into an incomprehensible bloody nightmare.
Chapter 13
Skinning the huge barkskin lizard would’ve been an easy task if Mikahl hadn’t felt like a one-eyed sack of broken bones.
Upon waking, he found that one cheek had swollen his eye closed, and that his body ached and burned in places that he never even knew existed. Loudin, the hunter, seemed to be in a hurry, but he didn’t push Mikahl too hard. Mikahl was glad of it because it took most of the morning just to get all his parts moving properly. After that, besides the pain, he was able to help get things done in a reasonably expedient fashion.
Once the lizard skin was sliced away from the beast and rolled up like a castle carpet, Mikahl washed the gore from himself in the pond. The cold water eased the pain and swelling in his face. This, in turn, eased the anger he felt when he found out that his old sword had been badly bent during the creature’s death throes. All of that was forgotten though, as a flood of embarrassment washed over him. Loudin had found his abandoned bow and was laughing at his shame.
Loudin rigged the surprisingly lightweight roll of skin between their two horses in a way that allowed him and Mikahl to still ride them. Windfoot had to walk directly behind Loudin’s roan, and Mikahl had to keep the distance between them from stretching or shrinking too much. The amount of attention this required kept his mind off of his pain as they traveled. The whole situation was awkward. Having the long, bulky tube of rolled skin tethered alongside the horses caused Mikahl and Loudin both to have to sit with one leg cocked wide and thrown over the roll. Today was right leg day, Loudin had explained. Tomorrow, he would rig the roll on the other side of the saddles, so that their left side would suffer the uncomfortable position. Mikahl didn’t complain. In his battered condition, walking would have been far worse than riding.
Most of the Reyhall Forest was openly spaced and easy to traverse, with little undergrowth and plenty of shade, but a few places were extremely dense. The going seemed slow. More than once, they had to dismount and cut a path through the underbrush, or maneuver the horses around closely spaced obstacles so that the skin didn’t get snagged, or torn, or pulled out of its bindings. For the most part though, the spaces between the old tree trunks were wide enough that a small wagon could’ve probably made it through. But only if the driver didn’t mind his tracks looking like a snake trail.
Considering that they hadn’t gotten underway until early afternoon, they had traveled a great distance by nightfall. When they stopped for the night, it was nearly full dark. Mikahl built a small fire, while Loudin unrigged the lizard skin from the saddles, and hoisted it up off the ground with ropes he’d thrown over some tree limbs. He explained as he worked that keeping the roll off the ground would keep insects and varmints out of it, but Mikahl was softly snoring before the old hunter had finished speaking.