She groaned, thinking the Raiders did not need any more reinforcements, then realized they looked like Stonegate troopers. The shields were kite-shaped, not oval, and they were riding warhorses, not the small duns that the Raiders favored. She saw a flash of gold on the leader’s helm and breastplate and recognized him. “It’s Don,” she cried. “But there are only three of them!”
“Don! No!” called Rachel. “There are too many!”
But the three riders came on, and five of the Raiders rode to meet them, lances at the ready. The two horseholders held back, and the ten on foot stopped their advance, about fifty yards from Carla and Rachel.
They heard someone cry, “Stonegate!” and the three troopers charged into the waiting Raiders. The line of shields wavered; then several dismounted Raiders turned to see what was happening. They gave the opening that Carla had been waiting for. She loosed a bodkin-tipped war arrow at the mailed side of a Raider and saw it stick into his armpit. She heard Rachel’s bow twang by her right ear, as she drew another arrow from her quiver and fired again at a pair of exposed legs. That will teach them to turn their backs to us!
†
Scott declared, “We can take them, sir!” as it became clear that the Raiders had managed to chase the two women into a grove of pines and cut off their escape. Don did not know if that was true. They were heavily outnumbered though they were far better mounted and armored. The shaggy enemy mounts were no match for their big warhorses, and the light Raider mail offered no protection to their arms or below their waists. Don pulled his light javelin from its carrier and put his shield on his left arm.
“Come on, then,” he exclaimed. He flashed a grin at Scott and the other young trooper, and urged Snap forward. They bolted across the grassy opening like a herd of charging buffalo. Several mounted Raiders looked their way and must have given a warning, because five of them turned to face Don’s force. “Stonegate!” Don shouted. He used the war cry of the Red Axe troop, but it sounded right and good.
The troopers lowered their heavy war spears to his right and left, but Don held the javelin so he could either throw or thrust. Instead of spreading out which would have been wise, the Raiders formed a united barrier, their lances pointing out like a steel-tipped hedge. Don saw that the enemy intended to strike for the chests of their warhorses, and he hoped the chest protectors would hold.
They crashed into the five bearded men. Two lances were aimed at Snap, but he swerved, slamming his shoulder into one of the smaller horses, knocking him sideways. Don heard the ringing clash of metal on metal and the grunts of men and animals. The rider facing him lurched out of balance, which lowered his shield to expose his neck, and Don drove his javelin into the opening. He felt the weapon bite, then it was torn from his hand, and he was past the defenders. He reached down and drew his sword. The two horse-holders shied away and dropped reins. Riderless dun horses scattered. Don saw that they were out of the fight, so he turned back to join the battle against the first five. But it was now three, he saw. Two enemy saddles were empty. Snap whirled when he felt the rein and lunged at the nearest mounted enemy. The man was aiming a sword-cut at Scott and Don took him from the rear, cutting him from the saddle. The battle was now three to two, and the remaining Raiders had no chance. They dispatched them with grim efficiency, then whirled back towards the dismounted enemy.
Don saw that three of the Raiders were down, apparently hit by arrows. The rest were struggling to stand back to back, so their shields protected front and rear. Don led a charge through the middle of them, hewing at their heads as he passed. His companions were a half-step behind, doing the same. They knocked several flat, and Don felt a solid hit on the shoulder of his opponent as his blow notched the enemy shield. They whirled and came back at them before they could regroup. Rachel and Carla kept arrows coming, even as they smashed back into the struggling knot of men. One tried to slash at Snap’s neck, but Don aimed a counter-stroke that drove the blade harmlessly down. He saw the enemy’s blade snap, then whirled to the left and cut at the sword arm of a Raider battling Scott. The man howled and dropped his weapon.
Then it was three to three as the dark-clad men continued to keep their distance. The rest were out of the fight. Within moments, it was over. Don felt a blow as a crossbow bolt struck his breastplate, and bounced away. One of the horse-holders had come close, and the bolt had come within a foot of his face. The young trooper set off after him. Don turned back to the broken knot of men, who threw down their swords and raised their hands. The battle was over.
†
They heard the hoot of an owl to the southwest of the trail, though the small band of travelers took no notice of it. The first hint of dawn showed a glow in the eastern sky. The light was dim, but a nearby watcher could have made out four mounted figures, each leading a pack horse. They were tired, as were their mounts. They had been riding all night. They had left Owl Hollow early, as soon as they could pack the few things they could take with them. As they left their home behind, they had said a prayer for protection on behalf of Crispin and Philip.
Stanley, in a low voice, turned to those behind him. “It will be getting light soon. Time to find a place to hide.”
“How far to the tunnel, husband-of-mine?” asked Lyn.
“Ten miles or so, I would guess.”
“I won’t feel safe until we get at least that far.”
“Too dangerous to travel in daylight,” said Kelly. His tone was curt.
“Oh, why not push on? We are well south and are even out of the dread lady’s lands, now,” said Betsy.
Stanley reined his horse to a stop. He thought the matter over. Continuing south toward the Great Highway would put even more distance between them and the enemy army. Hiding was not without risks, since a good tracker could find them. “Oh, why not?” he said, finally. “Let’s stop in that grove of pines, give our horses some oats, and have a bite. Then we will chance it.” Everyone agreed, but Kelly was reluctant.
They spent at least two hours alternating between a brisk trot and a walk. The way was a bit farther than Stanley had thought, but the valley finally began to open, and they knew they were getting close to the main highway. From that point, he thought that the tunnel could not be more than three or four miles away.
They were passing through the ruins of an old settlement when Kelly, riding at the rear, called out a warning. Stanley looked behind them and saw movement on an east-facing slope. Just below a mixed stand of aspen and evergreens, he could see a file of riders. The horsemen had seen them as well because they speeded up and were heading downhill.
“Let’s move!” ordered Stanley, and he slapped his horse with the end of the lead rope. They all broke into a canter, heading toward the highway. They had three of the ancient weapons loaded and ready. But all the firearms and the precious store of ammunition were hidden beneath canvas on the pack saddles.
“If they get too close, we will have to break out the rifles,” said Kelly. His voice was low, yet it carried over the drumming of their horses’ hoof beats. Stanley realized that they could never outrun enemy scouts on fresh horses. He had resolved to never let the thousands of rounds fall into enemy hands. He was looking for a place to make a stand when the highway finally came into view. When it did, his heart sank. Coming down the old route was a cavalry force, in columns of fours, stretching to the west as far as he could see. Even the ancient weapons would do no good against a force of that size. They were trapped!
†
As always, when the battle was over, time adjusted and resumed its steady progress. Before, seconds seemed to be like minutes, and five minutes seemed an eternity. Don retained vivid memories. He could still see a dun horse, jaw wrenched open in a silent scream by a cruel spade bit. He remembered with crystal clarity a graceful arc of blood droplets curling off the tip of a sword. He could see the shocked eyes of a Raider tryi
ng to rise after being slammed to earth by a charging warhorse. He shook his head and forced himself to concentrate on the aftermath.
They first disarmed the enemy, beginning with the three unwounded. Don remained mounted, while Scott forced them to drop their weapons and strip off their helms and mail. Just then the young trooper cantered back, leading a bay horse behind him.
“He rode headlong into a tangle of fallen trees, and I was able to catch him there,” the trooper said with a grin. “Bad mistake! He shouldn’t have come back to loose that bolt!”
Don praised his work just as Rachel and Carla came forward, arrows on bowstrings. Scott had a coil of twine and began binding the captive’s hands behind their backs. Once they were secure, they sat sullenly on the ground. Don stepped off, and led Snap a few paces toward Rachel. Her eyes were brimming with tears. She lowered her bow, and Don stabbed his still-bloody sword into the earth. He took her by the hand.
“It’s been a long time, Rachel,” he said, softly.
She dropped her bow. “Oh, Don! That was reckless! I was so afraid…”
Then she clung to him, and he held her close. “I was afraid for you, too,” was all he could think to say. She started shaking with muffled sobs. He patted her shoulder, awkwardly, then gave her a sisterly kiss on the cheek. She turned her head, and their lips met. It was like a bolt of electricity. Time again stood still.
“That’s enough, you two,” Carla finally said. They looked around and saw that everyone, even the prisoners, were staring. They stepped apart but still stood facing each other, holding hands.
“We will have time to catch up,” said Rachel with a smile. Don nodded.
“Very well,” Don said with a smile. “It’s wonderful to see you. But you are right.” He turned to Carla. “You both were wonderful. Now—why don’t you and—” Suddenly he realized that he did not know the young trooper’s name. Don gestured toward him, and he responded.
“It’s Boyd, sir,” he said.
Don introduced Scott and Boyd to the women. “As I was saying,” Don continued, “Boyd, you and Carla need to round up the Raider ponies.”
They quickly set off to do just that. Meanwhile, Don and the others began checking the wounded Raiders. One man had an arrow through his thigh and was bleeding heavily. Don broke the shaft and drew it out of the wound. He was unresponsive, and Rachel knelt to see whether she could stop the bleeding. She took his belt, and Don helped her tie a tourniquet. Then they looked at another man who had a serious arm wound. He was gripping his arm with his free hand to try to slow the flow of blood, but he was ashen, and his eyes were glassy.
They did what they could for the wounded. Even so, the man with the leg wound soon slipped into eternity. Tears began flowing down Rachel’s cheeks. “What have I done?” she whispered. “I killed him. God forgive me!”
†
A rider proudly led the column bearing a golden banner with a numeral “1”. Stanley looked to the east, and there, trotting down the hill, was a group of black-haired horsemen. They were Diné. Relief washed over him like a warm breeze.
“They’re friendly!” He exclaimed, raising his right arm, palm out.
A half-dozen troopers broke ranks and galloped forward. They questioned Stanley’s party politely but kept their weapons ready. Stanley’s answers seemed to satisfy them, so they stood aside and waited while the main column continued. They proceeded along the Great Highway, heading east toward the tunnel.
Then a group of armored men split from the column and joined them on the shoulder of the road. Stanley saw a wide gold band on one helm and knew he was the commander. The man was broad and burly and his face was weathered to a brick-red hue.
“My name is Blackie,” the man said, sizing them up. “Who are you?”
“Stanley, and this is my wife, Lyn,” answered Stanley, looking him in the eye. “Also Kelly and his wife, Betsy.” They nodded. He must have noticed that they all, even the women, were wearing the short mail coats favored by the Raiders. God, I hope that doesn’t make him suspicious. “We’re on the run from the enemy. Friends of Samuel, you see. Caretakers for him or, at least, we were.”
Blackie turned to a young man next to him. “Well, Colin, I think we have found the ones you were looking for.”
Chapter 28
†
The Sharp End of the Spear
Look, an army is coming from a northern land; a great nation will be awakened from the remote regions of the earth. They grasp bow and javelin. They are cruel and show no mercy. Their voice roars like the sea, and they ride on horses, lined up like men in battle formation.
Jeremiah 6: 22-23 HCSB
Don, Rachel, Carla, and the others met friendly scouts a few miles west of the Stonegate-Loveland road, a welcome sight. They had five prisoners, two seriously wounded, and fifteen Raider ponies, each laden with captured armor and weapons. Rachel had transferred her saddle to the big bay that Boyd had captured. He was no match for Justin, but he was strong and gentle.
The young scouts could not believe their eyes, yet they listened in wonder as Don explained what had happened. Two rode to report to the horse troop and the others quickly offered to help. Rachel and Carla were glad to let someone else lead the strings of ponies.
They all met with the patrol a short time later. Slim rode forward and gave Don a respectful salute. “Lord Donald,” he said, slowly. “I am thinking that the legends don’t do you justice.”
“The Raiders made a big mistake, that’s all,” said Don “They thought those beautiful women were helpless. But Rachel and Carla killed three and wounded two, and we found another blood trail. So they put six out of action.”
“They did? Good Lord!”
“It was not just me in the fight. It was a team of five. Make sure the troops know that.”
†
It was a little after noon three days later when the straggly bunch of Steamboat survivors shuffled into Stonegate. Most of them now rode in wagons which had been sent to meet them. The news of the tragedy had already gone ahead, and a warm reception was waiting for them. Don and Samuel greeted them along with Lore-master Duncan, Lord Cal, and Thomas of Longmont. A large banquet had been prepared for them at the plaza before the Stonegate Inn. Women and children wept in relief at arriving safely and at the display of kindness.
The aroma of barbecued beef, lamb stew, and herb-covered vegetables filled the air. The men were glad of a hearty ale, and the women were happy to sip on elderberry wine which soothed their nerves. Lord Billings, the mayor of Stonegate, climbed onto a small dais in the center of the square and invited Wesley Fletcher to join him. The mayor welcomed Wesley and his people and expressed his sorrow for the savage attack by the False Prophet. Then Marshall Allen addressed the crowd as they sat down to eat.
“I am not sure that I should be the one to bring you greetings, but the mayor and people of Stonegate asked me to say a few words on their behalf. Take your places, ladies, gentlemen, and children and enjoy the hospitality that the folks of Stonegate have prepared for you. After lunch, our people have offered a safe place for each family to stay. Able-bodied men will be asked to join in defending the city. Some of the sick and elderly will be taken to a refuge south of here. Others will be staying in the homes of ordinary people in this town, who through the generosity of their hearts will provide a roof over your head. We heard the terrible news about Steamboat and offer our condolences for your loss. Now, just eat and relax, and after lunch you will be transported to your new accommodations.”
The people responded with claps and even a few cheers, overcome as they were with emotion and weariness. After lunch, Philip sought for Amber and Crispin, but they weren’t anywhere to be seen. He approached Don, curious to hear the latest news, wondering if they had safely arrived in Stonegate.
“Yes,” answered Don to Philip’s qu
estioning. “Amber and Crispin arrived a few days ago and are staying with Carla’s family. You will be hearing about Carla, if you haven’t already. I think Amber will move to Stonegate this evening to be reunited with her parents.
“I will plan to meet with them,” said Philip.
“Yes, do that. Howard, Rachel’s brother, still blames me for their parents’ death. He and Rachel live near Carla. I might do more harm than good right now if I go over there.”
Philip nodded, aware of the friction between Howard and Don. “I hope in time that Howard will change his mind about you.”
“No one wishes that more than me,” sighed Don, “And to make matters worse, I am the one calling for the evacuation of all farms and villages north of Stonegate. That includes Rachel’s and Carla’s farms.”
†
“It was barbaric and bloody,” was all that Philip offered, knowing that a detailed description would only bring distress. “We are blessed to be alive.”
Amber smiled, happy that Philip had safely arrived in Stonegate with her beloved father and mother.
“I prayed for you all,” she said softly. “Every night.”
Just then, Deborah arrived, also delighted to see Philip again. With her was a tall, dark stranger.
“Allow me to introduce my friend, Jarrad,” said Deborah. “He is here to help in the fight.”
Philip thought he detected a hint of affection for Jarrad in Deborah’s voice, He hoped that she would be able to consider someone other than Don. He knew little of love but believed that Don’s heart was firmly fixed on Rachel.
The False Prophet (Stonegate Book 2) Page 29