Free Honor Crowned by Michael G. Southwick Page B

right.
    Most likely it was Neth, come to remind him in her ever so subtle way to keep his guard up.  That was one lesson he wasn’t likely to ever forget.  Neth’s sneak-attack lessons were something you remembered for a very long time, long after the bruises faded and the cuts healed.
    “When someone’s hunting you, you have three choices.  You can run from them, hoping they don’t shoot you in the back, and find a battlefield of your choice.  You can run at them, fight them on their choice of terrain and hope you’re better than they are.  Or, you can settle and prepare, use what you have with you and around you to give yourself every advantage you can.”
     
                  Neth had taught him this principle, and she had given him the opportunity to try all three options on numerous occasions. They knew each other well enough, and his skills had improved enough, that now he had at least a fair chance.  This time, though, this time would be different.  In his time with the scouts and Captain Jonas, he’d added a few more arrows to his quiver, so to speak.
    Although the meadow was free of trees, it held more shelter than one would think.  Brush and scattered tall grass covered most of the area.  The ground on first glance seemed level, but in fact had numerous depressions and rises.  Jorem dropped to the ground and, using these features of the terrain for cover, he began making his way out of the meadow.
    He headed neither directly toward nor directly away from the sound he had heard.  Instead, he angled away from it.  Just in case he was spotted at some point, he changed his direction several times along the way.  Once he reached the trees, concealment was much easier.
    Ghosting from tree to tree and bush to bush, Jorem used the shadows cast by the moon high above to hide his passing.  He’d learned much from Hector and the other scouts about moving unseen.  As he moved through the forest, he used those lessons to the utmost.  If he’d had a pair of soft shoes to quiet the sound of his steps, he would have put them on, but he’d not thought to bring a pair.  Another lesson learned.
    As he got nearer to the area where he’d heard the noise, he began stopping more frequently to watch and listen.  It was time consuming and wore on Jorem’s patience, but at last he was rewarded with another slight sound out of place here in the woods—the sound of a boot pressing into leaves not quite damp enough to allow for silent passage.
    Keeping his breathing slow and even, Jorem focused his attention just to the side of the sound he’d just heard.  Even with the dim moonlight filtering through the trees, movement was much easier to detect with peripheral vision than it was straight on.  Quietly and patiently he waited, not moving, just watching.
    There!  A figure darted from one shadow to another.  With the silence of the shadows around him, Jorem moved to intercept his foe.  Once in place, crouched in the shadow of a large pine, Jorem slowly and silently drew his sword.  Knowing someone was coming made it much easier to discern the slight sounds they made as they approached.
    The idea of waiting until Neth was within arm’s reach and introducing her to the point of his sword crossed Jorem’s mind and was quickly dismissed.  He could use a good bout.  It would help release the tension he’d felt building inside.  Besides, there was nothing quite so thrilling as going a few rounds with her.  She never held back.  When she was in the full throes of a fight, you were never sure whether she would stop before killing you or not.
    When Neth was less than a wagon length away, Jorem stepped from the shadows.  The moonlight gleamed on the length of his sword.  Looking up at the dark figure before him, Jorem realized he’d made a very big mistake.  This was not Neth!
    The figure before him was stocky and at least as tall as Jorem.  Whoever this was, they were more cautious than Neth