W
War of the Roses
Guest
The Beginning Continued
I stuck with the main roads, mostly because I was told this old land could be treacherous for one as young as I. Chicken had slowed her pace after her short burst of energy, and we meandered through the treeless forests. The occasional cackle of a Lich could be heard in the thicket, and though sending the hairs upon my neck on end, and Chicken to dancing we pushed forth.
The sun began to settle in the sky, strands of gold and crimson stretched across the vast expanse of land. The trail we steadily kept pace on was well worn but riddled with weeds. I leaned forward upon my steeds thick neck, thinking to rest my eyes for a scant moment, the morning aches having returned with horrid vengeance.
“Ah what pretty wanders these woods!” A voice, with a heavy roughish accent spoke.
I jolted with a start in the saddle, I must have fallen to sleep, lulled there by the rhythmic pounding of Chicken’s hooves and the wind whistling through the bare trees. I looked at the man who stood before me, dressed in dark clothes, of a color I could not see due to the thick shadows.
“Good Sir,” I began, pulling myself straight in the saddle, “I seem to have gotten lost in my travels”
The man snickered, and with the sound of several more snickers followed his. Chicken stepped back, tugging her head towards me, I felt the tightening and shivering of her flank beneath my thighs. Something was disturbing her greatly.
“Ah, lost eh?. Well, well, the lost are never missed.” His voice drew dark connotations. A purely evil grin crossed his devilishly handsome features.
I looked at him in astonishment, questioning in my mind the reasoning for the handsome ones to be always of the evil nature, such a pity. My shoulders drew back, and I lifted my chin in slight defiance at his implications.
“Sir, if you are not to be of assistance to me, I must be off, for I am expected at my destination most eagerly.” I hoped the lie was not transparent, for those whom I sought knew not of me nor of my coming.
The man shuffled closer to me, his hand darting out to grab the reins of my horse. Chicken snapped her head back, yanking with all her might against the intruder, her hooves beating wildly in the air above the now startled man’s head.
“Damn ye beast!” He growled, and several other men crept from the shadows.
My heart became a symphony of sound in my ears, my skin crawled with this impending doom. I could hear the sickening sound of metal being drawn from their sheaths, and arrows pulling along the taught cat-gut of the bows.
Chicken, showing a bravery unbeknownst to her, bolted through the throng of men, her hooves beating against the dead earth as she pulled away from them. I leaned low against her neck, dodging the branches that whipped against her sides, one slicing neatly through her fore-flank as she sped forward. She resisted the urge to slow, I could feel her shudder as the blood dripped down her dappled gray coat.
The heavy thundering of hooves behind us gained quickly, the screams of the savage men closing in on us. Prayers left my lips as quickly as they came to mind. Several times we tried to hide, but to no avail, they rode heavily upon us, and afforded us no break.
With a sudden lurch Chicken stumbled, falling to her knees then rising again to push further onward. I turned in the saddle to see an arrow imbedded firmly in her rump. Pity, dread and fear flooded me as the horse began to slow her pace, her labored panting telling all, small grunts emitting from her throat spoke volumes to me.
I clung to her neck, keeping tight to her, speaking words of encouragement as she struggled on. The whistling sounds of arrows passing close to us becoming almost melodic against the rhythm of the hooves. We rode over the rise of a small hill, and down before us stood a large old building. Monks, healers and mages, dressed in drab colored robes moved around outside of it.
TOWN! My mind hollered, and Chicken must have sensed this for she shot forward like the arrows that whizzed past our heads.
To Be Continued...
From the Journals of Rose Bush of Sonoma
<center>
</center>
<center>The Saga of Auburn Rose~Tale of Britannia</font color=FF3030></center>
I stuck with the main roads, mostly because I was told this old land could be treacherous for one as young as I. Chicken had slowed her pace after her short burst of energy, and we meandered through the treeless forests. The occasional cackle of a Lich could be heard in the thicket, and though sending the hairs upon my neck on end, and Chicken to dancing we pushed forth.
The sun began to settle in the sky, strands of gold and crimson stretched across the vast expanse of land. The trail we steadily kept pace on was well worn but riddled with weeds. I leaned forward upon my steeds thick neck, thinking to rest my eyes for a scant moment, the morning aches having returned with horrid vengeance.
“Ah what pretty wanders these woods!” A voice, with a heavy roughish accent spoke.
I jolted with a start in the saddle, I must have fallen to sleep, lulled there by the rhythmic pounding of Chicken’s hooves and the wind whistling through the bare trees. I looked at the man who stood before me, dressed in dark clothes, of a color I could not see due to the thick shadows.
“Good Sir,” I began, pulling myself straight in the saddle, “I seem to have gotten lost in my travels”
The man snickered, and with the sound of several more snickers followed his. Chicken stepped back, tugging her head towards me, I felt the tightening and shivering of her flank beneath my thighs. Something was disturbing her greatly.
“Ah, lost eh?. Well, well, the lost are never missed.” His voice drew dark connotations. A purely evil grin crossed his devilishly handsome features.
I looked at him in astonishment, questioning in my mind the reasoning for the handsome ones to be always of the evil nature, such a pity. My shoulders drew back, and I lifted my chin in slight defiance at his implications.
“Sir, if you are not to be of assistance to me, I must be off, for I am expected at my destination most eagerly.” I hoped the lie was not transparent, for those whom I sought knew not of me nor of my coming.
The man shuffled closer to me, his hand darting out to grab the reins of my horse. Chicken snapped her head back, yanking with all her might against the intruder, her hooves beating wildly in the air above the now startled man’s head.
“Damn ye beast!” He growled, and several other men crept from the shadows.
My heart became a symphony of sound in my ears, my skin crawled with this impending doom. I could hear the sickening sound of metal being drawn from their sheaths, and arrows pulling along the taught cat-gut of the bows.
Chicken, showing a bravery unbeknownst to her, bolted through the throng of men, her hooves beating against the dead earth as she pulled away from them. I leaned low against her neck, dodging the branches that whipped against her sides, one slicing neatly through her fore-flank as she sped forward. She resisted the urge to slow, I could feel her shudder as the blood dripped down her dappled gray coat.
The heavy thundering of hooves behind us gained quickly, the screams of the savage men closing in on us. Prayers left my lips as quickly as they came to mind. Several times we tried to hide, but to no avail, they rode heavily upon us, and afforded us no break.
With a sudden lurch Chicken stumbled, falling to her knees then rising again to push further onward. I turned in the saddle to see an arrow imbedded firmly in her rump. Pity, dread and fear flooded me as the horse began to slow her pace, her labored panting telling all, small grunts emitting from her throat spoke volumes to me.
I clung to her neck, keeping tight to her, speaking words of encouragement as she struggled on. The whistling sounds of arrows passing close to us becoming almost melodic against the rhythm of the hooves. We rode over the rise of a small hill, and down before us stood a large old building. Monks, healers and mages, dressed in drab colored robes moved around outside of it.
TOWN! My mind hollered, and Chicken must have sensed this for she shot forward like the arrows that whizzed past our heads.
To Be Continued...
From the Journals of Rose Bush of Sonoma
<center>
<center>The Saga of Auburn Rose~Tale of Britannia</font color=FF3030></center>
