The powerful armored cavalry trampled along the road. Usually, only merchants' caravans and farmers heading into town passed this way. Now thick horseshoes pounded it again and again. The impatient warhorses wanted to run flat out, but their riders kept holding them back, maintaining a pace that was neither fast nor slow.
A tall cavalryman rode at the very front. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, and a thin scar ran from his forehead down to his cheek. All the other riders hid their faces behind heavy helmets. Only he left his face exposed without a care.
The cavalrymen never let their horses run freely. They kept them at a trot, but even that was a pace an ordinary person could not match.
When pursuing fleeing enemies, they would approach at this same trot, then use their horses' momentum to cut the fugitives down, one with each stroke. Experience gained in countless battles left every cavalryman utterly certain they would win this contest. No matter how good a runner someone was, he could not outrun a warhorse, especially over such a short distance.
The warhorses normally had to bear enormous loads. Now they carried only their riders' weight, which left the strong, nimble creatures full of energy. They kept trying to quicken their steps, and their riders kept tightening the reins, holding them to the right speed and maintaining a disciplined formation.
Normally, this formation was preparation for a full charge. They would gradually build speed from a trot until they reached a full gallop, then drive into the enemy ranks with unstoppable force. The momentum built up during the trot would make them impossible to stop. Even sturdy spears would snap against their horses' armor.
Before long, they had covered the 32 gari. Almost every man was supremely confident. No one on foot could possibly match this speed. Those ridiculous barbarians must still be trudging through the mountains. Once they arrived, the cavalrymen could mock them to their hearts' content and show them just how laughable and useless they were.
The riders swept into the three-way junction and filled it in the blink of an eye. After soothing their overexcited horses, they began to wait in silence. Apart from a horse occasionally fidgeting or struggling, no one made an unnecessary sound.
Almost all of them were waiting to enjoy the spectacle of those people crawling out of the mountains, exhausted and bedraggled. Even the most generous officer thought they would not appear until the shadows cast by the sun had moved eight chi, and then only in dribs and drabs.
Some were already puzzled. They could not afford to waste too much time. Why give those down-and-out bandits this chance? If they never came, were the cavalry supposed to keep waiting forever? ... Still, their trust in their general kept them waiting quietly.
When they heard grass rustling, everyone turned their attention toward it. Alka's surprise showed openly on his face. They had only been waiting a little while, and the shadows had barely moved. Had those people really arrived already? Perhaps he had underestimated them...
A dim-looking wild boar emerged with its head down. Its snout kept rooting through the soil, searching for something tasty, such as mushrooms or insects. The cavalry had been so quiet that even the boar had misjudged the situation and wandered blithely out.
Alka glanced at Tesolys. Once his general gave permission, he reached into a saddlebag and took out a javelin. He raised it, took a brief aim, and threw.
The sharp javelin pierced the boar's thick hide without resistance and came out the other side, pinning the fat animal to the ground. It managed only a few squeals before the blood pouring from its throat turned its cries into coughing mouthfuls of bloody foam. Soon it stopped moving.
Everyone was delighted by this unexpected windfall. They had not gone hungry, but they had been unable to get any meat, and these strong cavalrymen still found that rather hard to bear.
Two men immediately swung down from their horses and dragged the boar over. They slit its belly and gutted it with quick, clean movements of their daggers, stripped off its entire thick hide in one piece, and tossed the inedible parts straight onto the grass.
The sun continued its slow journey, and time passed, minute by minute and second by second. They butchered the entire boar, cut the meat from the bones, and loaded the pieces into a wagon. The heavy smell of blood still seemed to linger beneath their noses, but there was not the slightest sign of the highlanders. Even Tesolys was a little disappointed. Perhaps they had run away, or simply could not make it in time.
He shook his head regretfully and was about to turn his horse and lead the cavalry away when a sudden commotion rose from the woods. The pitiful squeals and panicked cries of wild boars filled their ears. Before they could work out what was happening, a great herd of dark boars burst from the trees. Every last one was running for its life.
A group of highlanders in animal skins raced after them, longbows in hand. Every so often, one would stop and loose an arrow, and a boar would invariably crash to the ground with a squeal.
Their legs were so nimble and powerful that the strong boars could never shake off these fierce hunters. One after another, the animals were shot dead in the hail of arrows. In moments, the ground was littered with corpses.
Cheering, the hunters began cutting up their kills with short blades. They deftly stripped away one thick hide after another, cut out the bright red pork, and wrapped it in the skins. Then, without hesitation, they slung these strange bundles over their shoulders.
Even after the inedible organs and other unwanted parts had been removed, each heap of meat was still very heavy. Yet every hunter carried his load at a flying pace, rushing into the three-way junction in the blink of an eye.
The short Corein was the first to approach Tesolys's warhorse. She threw the great load of meat from her shoulder onto the ground. The other hunters followed suit, tossing their own pork onto the pile. In an instant, a mountain of meat stood before them.
The woods grew noisy again as the women and children emerged too. Everyone had arrived. Not a single person had been left behind...
The smile at the corners of Tesolys's mouth grew more pronounced. He rested both hands on his saddle and leaned forward a little.
"So this is why you're late?"
The girl looked embarrassed.
"We didn't expect such a big herd of pigs over there either. These fellows were mad with hunger. Once they saw meat, I couldn't keep them under control... So we drove the herd this way all along the route... Before, we were too hungry to have the strength to cross the mountain. We never knew there were so many gifts waiting on the other side..."
The huge black warhorse stepped around and headed onto the road. The cavalry immediately followed, their hooves pounding the earth as thick and fast as raindrops.
The highlanders stood rooted to the spot in alarm, thinking they had been abandoned again. Just as Corein was about to say something, Tesolys turned his head.
"Hurry up and follow us. Don't forget the meat. We need to reach the next town tonight."
...
Overjoyed, the highlanders noisily gathered up their game and hurried after the column without hesitation, just as if they were following their own leader...
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