Broken World Book Two - StarSword by T C Southwell

hooves. A
group of Riders entered the road behind him and galloped up it,
gaining rapidly. He looked around for a means of escape, a wall to
leap over or a doorway to duck through. Rounding a corner, he found
a Trueman barricade before him.
    The soldiers
who manned it shouted encouragement as he raced towards them, the
Riders so close that he swore he could feel their mounts' hot
breath on the back of his neck. With a mighty leap, he reached the
top of the barrier and scrambled over it, pulled by many helpful
hands. Even as he tumbled over the other side, the steeds hit the
barricade with a terrific crash, lifted the overturned wagons
loaded with stones and pushed them several feet up the road. The
sliding wagons caught Kieran, and poles stabbed him in the ribs and
belly. His armour saved him, and he rolled away, grimacing. Someone
grabbed him and hauled him upright, thrusting a tough, leathery
face close his with a gap-toothed leer. The officer pushed him
towards the barricade and turned to raise his sword.
    The Black
Riders rode their horses into the barrier, pushing against it as
they cut and slashed at the men who defended it. Soldiers stabbed
the horses with lances, wounded some and sent them crashing to the
ground. Their Riders leapt off to attack the barricade on foot,
climbing onto the wagons as they laid about them with
indestructible swords. The barrier would only hold for a few
minutes, and Kieran turned away from the doomed battle. The officer
grabbed his armour and yanked him around, glaring up at him.
    "Where do you
think you're going, laddie?" he growled. "You'll stay here and
fight with the rest of us, like a man!"
    Kieran stared
down at the man's pugnacious face pityingly. "Let me go."
    "Where do you
think you can run to, eh? Ain’t nowhere to go, fool!"
    "I have to get
a horse and warn the next city."
    The officer
shook his head. "Won't do them no good, either. The best we can do
is kill as many of the bastards as we can!"
    Part of the
barricade disintegrated with a great crash, the smashed wood
knocking aside the defenders as a steed forced its way through.
Desperate to get free, Kieran shook off the clutching hand that
clung to his armour and smashed his fist into the officer's face,
sending him sprawling.
    "They don't
die!" he shouted as he swung away, glimpsing the despair in the
man's eyes.
    Sheathing his
sword, he ran up the street, leaving the barricade and its hopeless
defenders to their fate. He skidded around a corner and headed up
another deserted road. Bodies strewn along it told of a battle
already fought here, the fallen mostly Truemen. Reaching a dead
end, he hurdled the wall into an alleyway choked with bodies,
mostly women and children. His hatred of the Hashon Jahar swelled
at the sight of the slain innocents, and he swung away, unable to
look at their twisted faces.
    Rounding the
corner at the end of the alleyway, Kieran almost collided with a
Rider galloping past. Springing aside, he drew his sword as the
Hashon Jahar pulled his steed to a skidding stop and turned to
clatter back towards him. Kieran stood his ground, as if to block
the Rider's way, then leapt aside at the last moment, ducked the
slash of the Rider's sword and plunged his own into the steed's
flank. The horse went down with a crash, skidding on its knees and
nose until it hit a wall, its rider flung off to roll down the
street. Kieran turned and sprinted away, dived into a cross street
and raced up it as fast as his legs would carry him.
    A wide road
crossed the one he ran along, apparently deserted, and he sprinted
across it without a pause. Something huge loomed beside him, the
scrape of hooves loud on the tar. A solid shoulder crashed into him
and sent him rolling into a wall. Pain shot through his shoulder
from the impact, and a Hashon Jahar turned its panting steed
towards him. Kieran tried to raise his sword, but his arm did not
work and the weapon fell from his numb fingers. The steed reared
over him, its hooves