Could a person outrun a warhorse? It was a pointless question. With their long, powerful legs, warhorses could race along a road at astonishing speed. Humans on two legs could not match such swift creatures. Cavalrymen riding them would catch up with ease, then kill the fugitives on the spot with weapons swung or thrust from behind.
The worst losses in a major battle often fell on these fleeing soldiers pursued by cavalry.
And the fugitives being hunted now were not strong, fit soldiers. They were only an ordinary doctor and a woman who had recently given birth, too weak to run quickly.
No matter how one looked at it, the outcome of this hunt was beyond doubt. The cavalrymen's powerful warhorses would catch these two helpless women in the blink of an eye... What would happen next hardly bore describing.
At least, that was how these Hols cavalrymen saw it. They had expected a pleasant, easy diversion, never imagining they would suffer casualties. After killing the last living chicken in the village, they had gathered up all their plunder. Then they had found the dead sentries at the village entrance and the poor wretch whose skull had been split open.
Humiliation turned to anger in every man's heart, especially their commander's. He was Kas, a minor lord from Roldo. Eager to prove himself, the young noble would never tolerate a rabble of peasants daring to challenge his authority. He drove his elite cavalrymen after those outrageously bold attackers.
The skilled scouts soon noticed the unusual tracks in the forest, and the entire cavalry squad raced after them. Reckless and cruel though the young noble was, he was an excellent archer. A single arrow from far away brought one person down, while two slender shadows slipped into the forest in the darkness.
The cavalrymen roared with laughter. All their anger had now turned to wild excitement. It seemed another entertaining game awaited them.
Some began betting on who would catch the fleeing peasants first, staking their own shares of the plunder. Their eyes gleamed with bloodthirsty excitement beneath their helmets. Their sharp spears and long, curved swords thirsted for blood.
At a shout, the cavalrymen scattered and plunged into the dense forest. To them, this was a chance to enjoy themselves to the full... Opportunities like this did not come often.
Looted coins jingled in their saddlebags. Weapons stained with their victims' blood gleamed in the moonlight with a strange, distorted sheen. Their silver mail was soaked in blood. The killers moved through the night, searching for their next victims...
* * *
Stabbing pains kept shooting through her chest. Her lungs could no longer bear the strain and desperately signaled their distress to her body. Yet her body ordered them to keep working, without the slightest allowance for that terrible pain. Even though her feet were numb with pain, even though her lungs felt ready to burst, she must not stop. She dared not stop!
Scattered hoofbeats seemed to echo constantly through the forest. Sometimes barely audible, sometimes distinct, now distant, now close, they never quite faded away. They told the women that those terrible hunters were still around them, using fear as a hound to tear at their hearts.
Only the tiny child, so soft and delicate, still slept soundly. It was not because he was naturally such a heavy sleeper. Talina had used a little mild herbal medicine that could calm the mind and bring on sleep. Even then, she had dared use only a few drops of its juice.
They could no longer afford to take chances. If the child suddenly cried, all three would meet the most terrible fate. Although there was some risk, the two women had made up their minds to use the herb and send him into a deeper sleep.
The mother no longer had the strength to hold her child, so the little boy was now tied to Talina's chest with a long wrapping cloth. Perhaps her soft, rather full breasts also helped keep him so quiet. All the while, she held the mother's long, cold hand, passing strength to her through the warmth of her palm.
Her only advantage was her knowledge of this forest. Under her teacher's guidance, she had gathered all sorts of fresh medicinal herbs here. She had tucked all those different plants and fungi, pungent, bitter or fragrant, into her small shoulder bag.
Sometimes, to pick a fresh sprig of pineleaf grass, she had to climb a tall cliff and secure herself to a solid rock with a leather rope before she could reach it.
Her footsteps had touched every corner of this forest. She knew every tree, every rock, every gentle slope and cave. She knew where dangerous beasts lived, where rough stones covered the ground, and where the cliffs were utterly impossible to climb.
All this helped the two women evade the terrifying cavalrymen again and again, even when they were almost within arm's reach. They stumbled on toward safer, better-hidden places.
But she knew they would fail if this continued. They could not hope to match the cavalry's speed. Worse, their pursuers clearly had skilled trackers, who kept picking up their trail at intervals. Those dreadful hoofbeats, like the footsteps of death, never vanished completely.
To shake off these trackers, she had to come up with a better plan... Even if that plan carried a considerable risk.
Talina quietly made up her mind and explained her plan to the mother. The woman was pale and swaying, scarcely capable of making a decision. But telling her what she intended to do was crucial to their next move. There could be no hesitation, or all three would pay with their lives.
She found another great fallen tree, its center rotted into a hollow. Lightning had struck it down. She still remembered her shock at witnessing it fall. The falling tree had cleared a strip of ground, letting sunlight pour straight in. All the smaller plants beneath it had been crushed and buried under the giant's corpse.
The two women carefully crawled inside the fallen tree. Dense plants surrounded its trunk, making it barely noticeable in the forest shadows. It would give them shelter for a little while.
Still panting, Talina suddenly felt the hard hilt at her waist. The short blade was finely made and expensive. In a city, this ornate weapon would certainly fetch a staggering price, at least more than she earned in a year as a doctor.
Looking at the short blade, Talina could not help thinking of that formidable imperial general. She remembered his fierce, keen eyes, like a hawk's, the firm, hard lines around his mouth, and the advice he had given her before leaving...
Then Talina could not help thinking of that powerful cavalry force... If they had still been in the village, would the villagers have escaped today's terrible fate? ... The girl already knew the answer. She gently bit the corner of her lip.
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