mounted the horse and held his arm down for Po, but she was staring at the town. Olias looked again and a giant spider was there, harvesting their heads. These men were not like the others. These were trained soldiers who stood their ground. They died all the faster.
“Run!” echoed again, breaking the spell.
Po climbed into the saddle, and they moved up the trail to the ridge. They had to be careful because dawn was still almost an hour away, and the snow covered the trail.
By the time they reached the far end of the valley’s bowl where they could see the town, there was enough light, but too much snow to see from that distance. They found strange tracks here. The ground was savagely overturned in spots a foot or two across. It was an easy trail to follow.
They rode all day, stopping only once to eat and rest the horse. Olias had not planned for snow. He had figured that the horse could browse along the way. The horse didn't complain, though. He just ate the snow and an occasional leaf in passing. It was well trained.
Po spoke for the first time in hours as Olias was fishing another tunic out of his pack to put on. “Where are we going?”
“We're going to find that Keeper,” Olias replied
“Why did you come? How did you know to come? You saved me,” she gushed.
“He did it,” he said solemnly. “Keeper Barcus saved us. Again. I don't know how.”
“How will you find him?” Po said.
“I don't need to. He will find us. I believe in him,” Olias replied in common speech.
They didn't know he was already with them.
***
They kept moving west toward Barcus. But that was a small gift. Barcus watched unable to act as the village died. These men were professional soldiers. They were not like the raiders of the last village. They were quiet, they had executed the people on sight where they stood or where they slept in their beds. The soldiers had not screamed like banshees nor raped the women before murdering them. They did not loot the place or savagely destroy everything.
When Ash and Par attacked, they stood their ground and organized their attacks. The swarm of BUGs followed them as they killed and then died. After the main battle was over, Ash and Par had to mop up.
Some villagers had tried to run into the forests out the back gates into the snow. They were quickly ridden down and slaughtered by these grim men.
Vengeance fueled his anger as he directed the soldiers’ demises.
Seven got away because those seven never joined the killing party. They had gone south after getting off the shuttle, so Par and Ash left them.
Olias had lost the trail hours ago. He had a great sense of direction, so he plodded on into the blizzard.
Barcus did not want not lose Olias and Po after all this. With the last of the soldiers dispatched, Ash began to follow after Po and Olias. It would take hours to catch up, and he was a mess covered with bloody snow and gore, sure to frighten them on sight.
A bit before dusk, Olias had found a large shelter pine. The snow never made it to the ground here in the dome created beneath the wide boughs. Even the horse fit inside if she kept her head down. Shelter pines were often used by trackers. This one was no different.
Olias made a fire in a circle of stones covered in pine needles they had found there so they could stay warm while they rested.
Po was busy getting a camp kettle ready when the sound of the voice made both their heads snap up. A Keeper was standing in the makeshift entrance.
“That was a merry chase.” He had a crossbow leveled on them. “How did you know they were coming? It was brilliant to ride toward them. Their own horses would cover your tracks.” It was Malcom, the Keeper of Greenwarren.
“You thought you were so clever. I knew you had gear stored at the overlook. I followed you once because I never trusted you. No one is supposed to survive those raids. So, when I heard that thing call your name, I knew where to look.”
Then, silently, a black
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