Free Windcatcher: Book I of the Stone War Chronicles by A.J. Norfield Page B

own leather armor. The protection was tied together with thick leather straps, giving a lot of freedom for movement of arms and legs. The only metal present was in the shoulder plates, which were the same black color as the leather.
    Below the armor, he saw the entire body covered by black drawings, patterns and symbols across the arms and chest. Some of them even had the black patterns on their face. These guys seemed to be built for speed. Quick in and out tactics. Short sword on the back, a knife on the side of the belt and another strapped to each of the leather boots they were wearing. Two of the other riders had long hair, which was braided together roughly, and beards rivaling the first. The forth looked a bit younger—or perhaps, it was just his shorter dark hair and no beard—apart from the afternoon shadow covering his jawline.
    Once the horses were tied up, two of the men started making a campfire, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Ca’lek moved backward under the bush carefully, to guarantee he was out of view. The bushes did not have thick leaves, and the only reason they did not spot him was because they moved away from the ledge to have a break and perhaps to eat something. He tried to move back further, but his feet were already dangling over the ledge of the cliff. Turning himself around slowly, and as quietly as possible, he checked over the edge. It was a long, straight drop down…a fall would surely kill him; but he spotted a narrow ridge just below the overhang he was on. Hearing one of the men suddenly raise his voice, he glanced back at the riders in time to see the rowdy winner of the race get up and walk toward him. A small panic sparked in his brain.
    Did they spot me?
    It did not seem so, as the soldier said something over his shoulder to the small group around the fire; he was not even looking Ca’lek’s way.
    A second man jumped up and followed him toward the edge of the cliff. Ca’lek had to move quickly or he would be spotted for sure. Looking back over the edge, he moved his body sideways over the ledge, his stomach sliding across the ground. If he could reach the ridge, hopefully, the overhanging cliff would shield him from sight.
    The two soldiers slowly approached the bushes that hid him less than two arm’s lengths away. He actually saw their feet approach, through the opening underneath the bushes. As he leaned on his elbows, his dangling feet searched for the ridge, touching nothing but air. Gripping the ledge with both his hands, he lowered himself even more, until his arms stretched all the way. He looked down into the depth below him, it was enough to make his head spin. Quickly focusing on the wall in front of him, he tried to see the ridge he had spotted from the top. The change in viewpoint made it tricky to see, as he found himself looking lower than needed, at first. The ridge was actually at knee height for him now; but it was more toward the actual rock wall, so his feet overshot the safe haven. Quickly, he pulled his legs up onto the ridge. Having support for his feet, he dared to let one hand go to find a fingerhold to use as a handle to pull himself onto the safety of the ledge.
    Just as he released his second hand, he heard the two soldiers move through the bushes and come to a stop right above him. As the two soldiers positioned themselves, their boots kicked gravel forward which idly rolled off the cliff past him. He had to fight the urge for his gaze to follow the small falling stones, to prevent himself from leaning forward and perhaps losing his balance. He pressed himself actively against the mountain wall, turning his knees sideways as much as possible. He did not know how much they could see over the edge of the cliff, so the more he flattened himself against the wall the better. The two soldiers quietly shuffled above his head. Right at the point that he wondered what they were doing, a thick, steady stream of yellow liquid dropped off the top of the