He might be wounded, but her beautiful black was a fearless meteor. A
horse could run itself to death for it's master, but Si'Wren only
wished to escape her pursuers. But what of the black's injuries?
Knowing she must soon stop or risk his death by overexertion, Si'Wren
turned her head to look back and saw many attackers separating
themselves from the battle to ride after her, and cold fear filled her
soul. She looked ahead again just in time to avoid getting knocked off
by a low-lying bough as she entered a copse of trees and quickly became
hidden in their depths. There had been many men riding after her. Could
she possibly outrun them all?
She had been ready to mount up when the attack came, and she could hear
the sound of something slapping lightly and rhythmically on the back
flanks of the black stallion, and remembered the pair of leather saddle
bags containing her writing kit together with the clay tablets in their
sturdy bamboo frames. Little good they would do her now, for no longer
could she fight the Evil One with mere clay words, and the Emperor
himself was past all saving.
She burst out of the far side of the trees and began to ride up a
grassy knoll. The black stallion pounded up the rise and she drew back
on the reins at the crest, slowing him to a halt at the top and looking
back as she paused and listened to the distant pounding of hooves.
Pages:
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380