Engraved - The Hunted Warrior

Chapter 11 - Spell's End

The magic was almost spent. Gretch's limbs were heavy, his vision blurry. He was suddenly more hungry than he had ever been before.

Ever since he had killed the Empa guards in the rain outside the palisades desperation had risen inside him. He felt he must catch the thief before the magic was gone. He had pushed himself. For two days he cursed his carelessness as he retraced his steps back to Empa Clan's previous camp. After careful searching of the area he discovered the slightest remaining imprints of a single, large horse's hooves heading north along the river. His spirits had lifted when he followed them and found ashes and discarded bones at a small campsite. Two sets of hoof prints left that abandoned camp. For another three days he followed their trail north until he stumbled across a large herd of cattle. He killed all of the cowherds and the warriors that were supposed to be protecting them. All of them except one. The last survivor had been very helpful. He had told Gretch about the two Empa warriors and how they had been captured and sent to Khashbal.

Gretch knew it was too late for the magic to be any help now. A final quiver of spirit shook his arms and then was gone. Exhaustion, as he had never known, swept over him, shutting down his mind. He glanced unsteadily around the site of the carnage.

Not here, exposed and surrounded by dead cowherds. They will be looked for. I would be killed in my sleep.

Driven by sheer willpower he forced his legs to move. He claimed a horse from one of the dead men and somehow managed to get on its back. He kicked it forward into a walk. He did not allow himself to slumber knowing that once sleep took him it would not let go for days. When he could resist sleep no more he drew his sword and clumsily dismounted.

"I am sorry," he mumbled to the horse.

He gathered what little strength he had left and plunged the sword into its chest. It squealed and reared up in shock before collapsing to the ground. As it squealed and kicked the air feebly Gretch finally let his eyes close and tumbled to the ground.

***

"Wake up, hunter."

A soft voice entered Gretch's consciousness.

"Dreaming?" he mumbled.

His hand squeezed the hilt of the sword that still lay in his palm, but his muscles were too weak to lift it. He tried to open his eyes. Blue light and darkness was all that he could register.

"Wake up!" The voice was more insistent. Blue light grew stronger. He could see it through his eyelids. Prying them open, he saw a woman before him. She was exquisitely beautiful and dressed in a simple long blue dress. He was too weak to do anything but turn his head towards her.

"I hope this is not a dream," he said. "Do you mean to kill me? Never had I imagined such a beautiful death."

She smiled gently.

"I had not expected you to be a poet. Hunter, you perplex me. What are you to this land?"

"A killer."

"Yes, but what else?"

"Nothing. I hunt and I kill."

"And what do you hunt?"

As she smiled trust seeped into his heart.

"An Endless Plains barbarian has something I must retrieve."

"And what else do you seek?" she asked.

"Nothing else," he lied. He trusted no-one enough to share that. There were times that he even tried to block it from his own mind.

She stared at him for a while, assessing him, before she seemed to come to a conclusion.

"Do not kill the barbarian and his friend, or I will hunt you," she said. Gretch felt a thrill of power emanate from her.

"Then kill me now, for I am pledged to hunt them, and I always catch my prey."

"Maybe I should kill you," she murmured to herself. "It would be simpler."

Gretch waited for her to strike. She paced a figure of eight in the grass before him, never taking her eyes off of him, like a lion pacing before its prey. A frown of concentration was on her brow. A minute passed. She stopped and smiled.

"Rest well, hunter."

The blue light faded and Gretch's head sunk back to the ground.

---------------

Please consider voting and commenting. From punctuation problems to praise, I really appreciate all feedback.

-Y. V. Qualls