We may have been a larger group, but I still felt like I was simply settling into the old, unpleasant routine of horseback travel. Horses don’t stink, exactly, but they do present a strong smell, particularly after a day of hard riding. There leavings aren’t exactly flowers, either. I was looking forward to having sore legs and ass for days, though, I hadn’t enjoyed those sensations in quite a while.
We alternated between a good paced canter and walking the horses for short periods of time, even with the frequent switches between mounts. We were making good time and I found several places that might have been where Enick died but I wasn’t positive about any of them. I could have asked Thilos, I guess, but I discovered that I didn’t want to speak of it. Remembering was bad enough.
That’s how it went for several hours and then we stopped for a quick lunch of travel rations at some other stream so everyone could get some water, including all of the horses. That took a lot longer than eating the dried meat and somehow already stale bread that made up our feast. Life on the road.
When we were finally all fed and watered and back on the road we only made it for about an hour before we spotted some drants on the road ahead. They saw us at about the same time, or maybe they heard us. Either way the turned to face us and we had no chance of avoiding them or hiding. They had been heading west on the road, just like us, although they were afoot. There looked to be about fifty of them as they started running, screaming and yelling as they came. I unsheathed my sword even though we had some time before they were going to reach us.
Padral rode over to me, with Stegen and the apprentice mage following behind him. “I think we can even the odds once they get closer, but we need someone to hold our horses.” They all dismounted.
I motioned to my father, “Would you mind helping them out, Jirik?” He hesitated a moment, apparently considering his duty to guard me, before dismounting and taking all of the mages’ reins.
Venzik and Thilos were lining up our remaining mounted combatants, a few other people had dismounted to take charge of the spare horses. The mounted elvish warders were already launching a few arrows at the drants, but I didn’t see any falling. I watched the mages as they briefly huddled together and whispered excitedly before breaking up and beginning to prepare whatever spells they were going to use. Stegen went first, after moving in between a few horses so he could have direct access to the approaching drants. He did his thing and a dozen or so of the leading drants crashed to the ground. A few of their companions tripped over them before getting back up but most either jumped over their fallen comrades or ran around them. It didn’t slow them much. Padral had placed himself slightly in front of some horses a few paces to Stegen’s left and used his old favorite, the fire stone, sending lines of flames toward the now much closer drants. Over half of the remaining drants caught fire. Most of them very much so. Their screams were of a different sort than we’d been hearing as they ran. Now they were from the unpleasant sensation of burning alive. “Wait for Loberth’s spell before charging!” Padral yelled as the remaining drants drew even closer, ignoring their burning friends.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
We didn’t have long to wait because Loberth finished his spell and sent seven or eight metal darts into the eyes of the nearest drants. Several fell but even the two that didn’t no longer seemed interested in fighting. They were busy clawing at their faces, their weapons abandoned.
“Charge!” Thilos yelled and we did. Our first rank of riders, Sir Aryoss, Vone and his Kefnakian brothers and two of the warders, were urging their horses on, trying to build as much speed as possible before slamming into the oncoming drants. I was wisely in the last row of riders, with the dwarves, who are not our best mounted fighters.
The two groups met with a thunderous sound. There was a lot of slashing and smashing and yelling and then our second group of riders joined in and it became hard to take it all in. I saw Vone smash one drant’s head in with his mace. It was as gross as the last time I saw him do it. I also noted Sir Aryoss swinging his giant sword happily and I swear he was laughing as he did so. When we reached what was left of the fight I dismounted and motioned to the dwarves to so the same. We started killing the fallen and disabled drants and checking on those that were not moving to see if they still lived. I checked by stabbing them in the neck but some of the dwarves were hacking and smashing at their faces. It all worked and soon all of the wounded and sleeping drants were dead. By then all of the other drants had been killed as well. Delik Slin, Thilos and Venzik joined me after I waved to them after stepping off the road to avoid the worst of the stench.