by E.E. Blake
4. The Retainers
The stifling and moist heat around Regina’s face had become unbearable. Sweat stung her eyes, and through her visor she could barely see the dark forest path past the horse she rode.
She and the heretical fox – who was dressed in the armour of the other felled archer – galloped towards Keeto’s gates. The two Alliance guards standing at either side of the city entrance watched them in mid-murmur under the light of the torch mounts above them.
A thick bead of sweat slithered down Regina's temple as they approached.
The heretical fox tightened his grasp on the reins of Regina's stolen Alliance horse. She had never ridden before in her life, and so was instructed to hold onto the saddle horn and pretend she was gravely injured.
“Where is your commander?” asked the guard on the heretical fox's left. Regina swallowed hard when she noticed the other soldier – a border collie from the looks of his tail – eyeing her through his visor.
The heretical fox passed the soldier both his and Regina's stolen identification slips from a hip pouch. “We're Sergeant Aruto's men! The heretic ambushed us at the Stone Zephyr – the Sergeant ordered me and Mullin back to request additional units!”
Both guards went ice-cold alert.
Regina's eyes flicked to the saddlebag on the other horse – among the heretical fox’s clothing was that stolen white-hilted sword. If only the heretical fox had the sense to tell the guards he had it ... maybe they would summon an Alliance airship straight from Doblah and pick him up.
Regina’s gauntlet-covered paws clenched around the saddle horn with apprehension as the thought looped in her head.
“Right, okay,” nodded the soldier on the heretic's left, and gave him back the identification slips.
“Ride on in, soldiers,” the border collie said. “Alert Sergeant Sabina at the outpost.”
“For Doblah,” the heretical fox bowed his head in gratitude and respect. The false gesture made Regina’s stomach burn.
The heretical fox gave a tug on both sets of reins, and the two horses started through Keeto’s gates. Regina gave an obedient nod and muttered, “Doblah,” when she met the empty, dominant stare of the border collie's horned, metal face as she passed.
While they trotted along the main street, bathed in the shadows cast by the market’s apartment lights around them, Regina could smell the faint aroma of cheese-kissed pasta, spices, and meat-and-tomato sauces.
Her stomach growled.
“Yelp for help, and you'll regret it,” the heretical fox murmured. He then offered a swordsman officer in the street a brotherly nod.
The tinny echo of “...you'll regret it” sang in Regina's ears.
They rode past Keeto's Alliance outpost, onward toward the centre of town where the smell of pasta and sauce only grew stronger.
Regina saw a restaurant where the smell might have come from. Across the street from it was an inn with an attached pub.
They trotted straight through the rest of town without stopping.