Ch. 4: “Wherein Alec proves his worth, and Taggart’s crotch begins to dry out.”
“GO!” Taggart yelled. Alec laid the whip to the team and the wagon bucked away. Instantly they careened down a steep cliff path. The wagon half-rolled, half-skidded down the narrow cliffside, almost torquing completely over the edge. Alec gritted his teeth and forced the horses back under control. It was a controlled fall, the horses hurtling straight down the ravine wall, the wagon bouncing madly.
Indigo looked behind them. At the top of the ridgeline the monstrous army crested –
-- and was instantly BLOWN AWAY as the cyclone-force of the magic blast WASHED over the cliffs like a crashing tidal wave! Everyone in the wagon bellowed madly as the crash of power and wind swirled down the ravine wall. They gripped the wagon sides. They were just yards ahead of the shock-wave-front!
Alec stood and HEAVED the reins to one side. The wagon spun 90 degrees as the horses hauled them into a sheltered path in the cliffs, almost too narrow for the wagon to pass through. Still moving at full run, mouths flecked with foam, the horses hurtled through the tiny crevasse. The wagon SLAMMED against the crevasse walls, sections of it splintering away.
Kirby managed to right himself enough to look up. High above them, wet THUNKS echoed as the men and beasts caught up in the magic blast bounced off the red-rock cliffs of the Blood Steppes.
Then, as abruptly as it had come, the blast passed. The wagon was so deep into the overlapping rock spires, it was completely shielded from what was left of the arcane explosion.
Alec let the horses run on the momentum for a minute. He slowly hauled back on the reins. The horses yielded gratefully. They slowed to a trot, then to a walk, then to a dead stop. Weirdly, the only sound anyone could now hear was the squeak of the wagon wheels. They stopped when the horses stopped. The group sat in stunned silence. If silence could echo, it would here.
Even the rain was gone. A rain that had fallen every hour for three years, was just … gone.
Alec lay down on the driver’s slat. Taggart popped his head over the edge of the wagon. “So,” he deadpanned, “you any good with horses?”
Alec just chuckled weakly. He slung his legs over the wagon edge, sat up. He ran his hand through his ragged blonde hair, surveying the wounded soldiers sprawled on the wagon floor. His gaze suddenly stopped on the red-headed lieutenant the old soldier had been guarding. None of the others heard his sharp hiss of a gasp. His job was to know stories and recognize people. And he certainly recognized this person.
Kirby rolled out of the wagon, dropped to the rock floor of the canyon. He grunted as one knee gave out, banging his kneecap against the rock. The adrenaline leeched from his system, leaving him a little woozy.
Argent threw a grateful look to his brother and dove back into the wounded. He searched his senses for a spark of the Goddess’ power. He could find none. He knew this was for his own protection – only so much of the gift was given as one learned to channel it without harm. Still, Argent was frustrated at his limitations. He’d have to rely on his skill with herbs to relieve the suffering around him.
Taggart flipped over the wagon edge. Kirby caught him and steadied him. They listened. “Weird, eh?” Kirby whispered. “Quiet for the first time I can remember. It’s a little bloody unsettling.” He whistled. The tone bounced off the rock walls. “I didn’t know better, I’d think we were dead, or dreaming.”
Indigo still sat in the wagon. Her eyes were drawn to the man who’d fought next to Argent for a brief moment, fighting to protect one of his own despite his grievous wounds. Indigo liked three things in this world: drinking, courage, and drunken courage. She liked the cut of this man. She was glad he’d live.
For the first time she could see the Veshian soldier’s ward was a girl. The young red-headed lieutenant was nineteen at the oldest. Indigo jerked as the soldier grabbed her arm and hauled himself up. He gurgled past his broken throat: “… cambragia …”
“I’m sorry,” said Indigo, “I’m not so much with the gasping and the cryptic muchness –“
“… get her …to Rupert … in cambragia … and don’t use magic.”
