Thursday, November 28, 2013

NaNo 2013 Day 28

Almost done! I'm 60 words away from 44,000, so I have exactly 6,060 words to write by midnight tomorrow! Ugh, right?

Here's the next part of you guys!

Chapter 8
In Which a Life is Threatened
            
As afternoon began to fade to evening the group followed the path into a valley at the bottom of the mountain. The ride down Taka Mountain pass had been considerably shorter than the ride up, not only because the altitude of the land was higher north  of Taka Mountain and the Twins but also because the pass through the crags, while seeming flat, actually sloped downward enough to change the distance when climbing back down on the other side.
            
The path through followed a long dry riverbed through the valley. Trees with leaves turning to shades of yellow and red crowded close around the shallow banks of the river gravel path. Larkin and Zija, still riding in the front of the group, chatted about finding a place to set up camp for the night as they would not arrive at the temple until the next evening. Seok and Shula rode behind, whispering plots in their newly discovered language while Cain trailed some distance behind the rest of his companions, lost in thought.
            
Shula sighed and stretched, supporting herself with open palms placed on the horse’s withers she leaned back and complained, “When do we get to stop for the night? I’ve gotta pee.” A sudden noise in the trees beside them made Shula sit up. Swinging her legs for balance she accidently kicked the horse which sidestepped in irritation. That random movement saved Seok’s life as the crossbow bolt that would have lodged itself in his side instead stabbed though Shula’s wrist.
            
Shula screeched as the barb shot through her arm and stopped, protruding out the other side. The horse spooked at the sound and threw her off as three more bolts came flying out of the tree cover on the group’s left toward Larkin, Zija, and Cain. Warned by Shula’s scream when the early shot had landed, they were able to avoid being hit, but just barely. Larkin’s sorrel mare took the bolt that was meant for Zija in the thick muscle of her shoulder as it flew wide around him. She reared and threw Larkin off her back before running in panic down the path away from her companions.
            
Cain and Zija fared better than Larkin, the crossbow bolts flying wide as they urged their horses to move. The two still mounted steered their horses up the right bank of the road into the trees to avoid further attacks, but Seok had jumped off his brown to make sure Shula was alright. Alarmed by her scream, he had not really noticed the other attacks, but despite her wound, Shula had noticed and rolled to her feet as quickly as she could to make for the trees. Seok followed, leaving his horse standing in the path of the four watu that jumped from their cover passed her to chase after their quarry.
            
Larkin and Cain abandoned their horses as soon as they got into the trees. They grew too close and it would be easy to be caught on horseback with no place to run or way to defend yourself. Zija was at a disadvantage anyway, as his quarterstaff was a weapon best used in an open space. To add to that handicap there was an extra six inches of wood added to the length, tied on to the rest of the weapon by a leather strap. Beneath the wooden sheath at the end of his staff was actually a five inch blade. He rarely used the blade, as it was sharp enough to be deadly, but had to be wielded carefully because it was not as thick and sturdy as a spear.
            
As spread out as the companions were, the true targets of the watu attack quickly became clear. The watu paired off; two heading toward where Larkin had dashed into the trees and two to where Cain had abandoned his horse at the edge of the tree cover. The ill-tempered animal, already unhappy about the sudden ruckus, kicked at the watu as they passed behind her. Seok saw the horse’s hoof miss the watu as they chased after Cain into the forest. Shula followed close on his heels as he trailed the loai that were after Cain.
            
The other pair of watu had found Larkin and drawn their short swords. They were beautiful weapons, slightly curved, only one side sharpened, with waving temper lines running down the length of the blades. To the watu, a stocky, heavily muscled race, Larkin, a tall and reed thin man with no weapons seemed like an easy target. “Did this guy really kill five hundred of us?” one watu asked the other. They had split up and were moving toward Larkin from opposite sides. The second watu, snorted to show how ridiculous he thought that was.
            
“Can’t’ve can he? But the shit faced emperor thinks he did, and we’ll get a pretty penny when we hand his ass in.”
            
Larkin could not understand the watu language, as he had never been predisposed to studying languages, despite his other scholarly pursuits. He could hear the scorn in their voices though, and he smiled at the thought of giving them a lesson on judging a person by his appearance. The watu held their swords ready to attack, but Larkin moved first. Shooting toward one of them he disarmed the watu with a clever maneuver where he blocked the dull edge of the sword with one hand and struck the wrist of the watu that was holding the weapon.
            
With the sharp snap of breaking bone and a strangled scream Larkin considered this opponent defeated and turned toward the next one that he could hear approaching. Just as he turned there was a flash of crimson in his peripheral vision and a dull thud as Zija smacked the other watu in the temple with the end of his staff. The watu fell like a rock, instantly unconscious. Zija glanced at Larkin and then at the watu at his own feet. “Don’t think I killed him do you?” he asked.
            
“If his skull resembles yours as much as his hair does then he’ll wake up before too long.” Larkin turned back to the watu with the broken wrist. He had managed to stand again and looked like he was ready for the fight to continue. Larkin hooked his foot around the watu’s ankle and pulled his foot out from under him.  Slipping off a small silver ring he wore on his pinkie, Larkin bent down toward the watu who was whimpering now after having fallen on his broken wrist. Larkin placed his thumb in the middle of the watu’s forehead and the watu’s eyes rolled back in his head. After a moment, he too fell unconscious.
            
“That chi thing you do is creepy as hell you know?”
            
“You’ve told me before,” Larkin answered. “Let’s go see if the others are doing alright. I haven’t heard Cain’s gun go off yet so they’re probably all still alive at least.” He started walking back toward the path with Zija following.
            
“We were lucky you know. If one of the dumb asses hadn’t shot early we’d all be dead.”
            
“Yeah, but I didn’t see where Shula got hit. She may be dead already.”
            
Zija made a face, “Well if she’s dead or dying, you can be sure that the watu who went after Cain are gonna be dead too. Seok’s over there with him.”
            
In fact what had happened with Cain and the two watu who were chasing him was the watu had noticed Seok and Shula following them through the forest. The older watu looked to his junior, no older in appearance than Seok or Shula, “You take care of the kids. I don’t need them in the way if the priest there pulls some kind of temple magic on me.”
            
The younger watu was only too happy to oblige. He was already going to be in trouble about shooting too early, and with how nervous about attacking a high priest he would probably be in more trouble or dead by the time night fell. Attacking a priest just did not sit well with him, and this human was not just any priest either. He had to be protected by the gods, and the watu boy had always had a hearty fear of the gods since he was a boy and lightening had struck his neighbor when he had called a pox on the god of harvest for their bad crop that year.

            
The young watu had drawn his sword and turned around to face the human youths but when he got his first good look at Shula his heart gave a strange lurch. That mass of curly orange hair was enchanting, and such a beautiful face. He knew it was love at first sight, whether the girl was human or not. Then he noticed the words etched  on the bracelets she wore at her wrists and the bolt from his crossbow still stuck through the pale slender flesh and felt such remorse for his actions that he was almost moved to sheath his short sword. 

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