Free The Silent Enemy by Richard A. Knaak

net and used it almost like a shield. He draped it over his foe’s sword arm, then immediately thrust.
    With grim satisfaction, the Black Dragon felt the blade sink into the figure’s midsection. As earlier surmised, the villains did not wear metal armor, only thick leather that had seams. To an expert hand such as Nermesa’s, those seams were as wide as valleys. Nermesa’s opponent dropped to the side, then rolled off the hill.
    The Aquilonian immediately grabbed for the reins of the dead man’s horse, but the animal shied away. At the same time, the plodding of hooves warned Nermesa of not only the second rider, but the imminent approach of at least two more from the same direction.
    Sheathing his sword, the knight made one last try for the reins. He managed to snag them with two fingers. Tightening his grip, Nermesa forced the animal to obey him.
    As the Aquilonian mounted, lightning crackled in the sky. If anything, the rain grew even heavier. The sheer force of it nearly pummeled Nermesa from the horse.
    The only benefit of the increasingly harsh elements was the fact that his adversaries were also now encumbered by their long cloaks. He saw one struggle with the voluminous garment, the figure forced to slow down in the process. The others constantly had to swing their sword arms to the side to keep their weapons clear.
    Nermesa urged the recalcitrant horse forward. Its hooves clattered on the slick, rocky surface as it headed down the path. Now that he was mounted, Nermesa hoped to reach Gregorio and the others and warn them.
    But from ahead there suddenly materialized several wraith-like forms on horseback. Nermesa counted at least four more cloaked and hooded assassins. They now had him trapped.
    The knight looked around. A narrow passage between two jagged rocks offered the only possible escape. Nermesa tugged hard on the reins. Stumbling, his steed veered toward the gap.
    The fit was narrow and the path uneven. The Aquilonian was jostled around as the horse struggled its way through. Clatter behind him warned Nermesa that some of his adversaries followed close.
    The path widened . . . then dipped dramatically. Nermesa found himself plunging forward, the horse fighting to keep its balance as both descended.
    A hoof caught on a rock in the path.
    With a panicked whinny, the horse tumbled.
    Nermesa threw himself from the saddle. He landed hard, but not so hard as his unfortunate mount. The horse flipped onto its back, and its shrill scream gave evidence enough of bones no doubt breaking. The animal rolled over and over, its hooves once coming within less than a foot of the knight’s head before the horse tumbled on.
    Nermesa scrambled in among the rocks just before the first rider came into sight. The hooded figure also battled for control of his horse, achieving much more success than the Aquilonian. Another rider followed immediately after, his mount also keeping its footing. Nermesa did not recall Zingarans being adept with equines, but this lot surely was.
    Taking advantage of their focus on the path, the knight shoved deeper into the rocks. He could certainly not take all the men on. To do so would be to suffer the same fate as Sir Prospero likely had. Nermesa’s best hope was to try to lose them in the storm, then find help.
    As he fought through the jagged landscape, Nermesa wondered again how long the band had been waiting for just this moment. Some spy must have warned them of the party’s approach. Nermesa could only assume that the villains had been hiding out all this time among the blue peaks of Poitain, coming down now only to seek more captives to torture for information.
    How they had evaded discovery for so long was anyone’s guess, but perhaps one of the towers was run by a corrupt commander. Poitain was surely not without its criminals, those who cared more for gold than they did their own realm.
    Lightning flashed. Somewhere nearby, a horse whinnied. Nermesa drew his sword again.
    A shadowy