Free Light Of Loreandril by V K Majzlik Page B

“Does anyone else wish to question my ability?”
    Speechless, Jaidan and Gaular shook their heads. Only Eilendan discretely smiled to himself. Before him stood the Nymril he remembered from centuries back.
    Striding past them, Nymril briskly mounted her horse.  Sonda had stood patiently during the commotion, barely twitching his ears at the raised voices. She gently nudged her mount into action and rode off, leaving the group behind her. Too ashamed to look at her comrades, Nymril was shaking with adrenaline as she left. Part of her felt appalled at her actions, but the rest of her knew that if the others did not believe in her, the mission would fail. She would find some way of apologising to Gomel later.
     
    The group rode in silence for some hours, travelling through the dark Karakhul Woods, weaving between the densely growing pines and thick undergrowth. Each horse came close to tripping many a time, as they tried to avoid fallen branches and protruding roots. The comrades pressed on as fast as the horses would allow, believing their enemy could not be far behind. It was realistic to assume that news of the ambush had already reached the ears of the Rjukhan. Unfortunately, they were blindly unaware how close to danger they really were.
    By early evening the stench of the Kethnor Marshes was unmistakable, though not yet overwhelming. They could tell they were still several miles away from the edge of the Karakhul Woods. As the light dimmed, the weary travellers found a small, sheltered clearing, more sparse and open than the last, with younger, greener pines and more grass than thistle bushes covering the floor. Here, they halted for the night, still under the relative security and shelter of the woods, out of sight from prying eyes.
    The horses were tired and panting with dehydration, having been pushed to their limits. With no stream or brook available, Jaidan allowed the horses to take a draught from his waterskin. After the saddles and packs were removed, the horses were allowed to stray away from the camp in search of succulent grass and leaves. With their provisions running low, Jaidan, taking Khar, volunteered to hunt food for the evening meal. He left the others to set up camp and light a small, discrete fire.
    Quietly, congregated around the fire, the group whispered amongst themselves. Gaular was meticulously sharpening an axe blade with a whetstone. Its monotonous scraping filled the camp, setting everyone’s teeth on edge.
    “Must you do that?” Gomel complained, sucking on his teeth. Wrapped tightly in his woollen blanket, he was sitting almost on top of the campfire, trying to warm his stubby fingers and toes.
    “Which do you think will do more damage?” Gaular responded drily. “A sharp or a blunt weapon?”
    Gomel just grunted in response, and rubbed his cold, bulbous nose.
     
    Snap! Crack! The sound of branches and twigs being broken alerted the comrades.  Gaular froze, but the ring of whetstone on metal still lingered in the air. Something was approaching. The group fell silent, their ears straining to listen. The horses were quietly snuffling and scraping the ground to their left. They knew Jaidan had gone to scout ahead, towards the marshes. This new noise was behind them.
    From above they were greeted by the sound of huge, beating wings. With little warning, a gigantic beast, as tall as the surrounding trees, came crashing through the canopy. It landed on the fire, extinguishing it instantly.
    The comrades narrowly avoided being crushed, but were knocked in different directions, stunned by the sudden ambush. There was a scramble for weapons. Towering above them, the horned beast let out an ear-wrenching roar as its fangs dripped with venomous saliva. Its black, spiny mane quivered as it bellowed.
    None of the companions had ever seen such a hideous monster. Yelling a challenge, Eilendan leaped forwards, his sword ringing as it sliced through the air. The elf aimed high on the uzgen’s