The battle at the mountain edge

The flat space in front of them slopped ever upwards, forcing the tired fugitives to pump their legs to impossible efforts.

An arrow flew past the shoulder of Annias, he didn’t flinch, he just shouted, “run, don’t stop running, even if I fall, don’t look behind,” he panted as he brought out the rear.

Another arrow caught Darren in the left arm, almost knocking him to the ground, Mara shouted for him to get up, he leaped up and continued running beside her and Ethan.

Another arrow grazed the leg of Mara who screamed and fell, to be picked almost at the same moment by Ethan, to be joined shortly by the aiding hand of Darren.

The sound of ululating was very near, as the red riders made their shouts that they were famous for, the ones that usually caused the hardiest of men to crumble and flee all through the history of Agartha.

They still pushed on, driving their feet in the grassland as strong as the horses chasing after them, crushing the earth, ever pushing forward.

They started to gain distance as the slope of the grassland started to go ever higher, hindering the horses and their riders more than people on their feet.

But suddenly, they ran out of a place to run, as the flat land ended in a very steep and very high cliff, they were trapped.

The ululating was now too loud to ignore, and they faced the abyss in front of them for a moment, then Ethan shouted to the others, “we have to make a stand,” he panted as he continued, “let’s make our last stand count.”

Darren and Ethan drew their weapons, the short sword for Darren and the arrow and bows for Ethan.

Annias brandished his metal rod and started to wave it in the direction of the coming forces, there were more than fifty riders coming fast at them.

Even Mara took out the knife that Ethan gave her a long time ago and stood her ground.

The first attack was a testing one, three of the riders jumped at Darren, as he was perceived to be the most dangerous of the four from the previous encounter at the camp.

Darren shouted at the top his lungs, “for the green boy,” then he twisted, bent, and rose, his sword moved in a wide arc through the whole first contact, and in one flawless movement that resembled a dance, his sword became red with the blood of the three riders who fell to their death throes.

The second attack was the real one, most of the body of the riders attacked the four at the same time.

Ethan was fast in knocking arrows, he breathed deep then loosed one arrow after another, he fired one at a rider about to jump at Darren, another at one that flew towards him, and yet another at a rider that rushed at Annias, and he never missed his mark.

Still, he had a limited number of arrows, and he was about finished, and as he drew his last, he started to notice the cuts all over his body from enemy swords and arrows, then he drew his own long knife even though his arm wounds were dripping all over it with his running blood.

Mara, screamed as she fought, “for the green boy,” then she charged two riders who tried to take Darren from behind, cutting one and injuring the other, allowing Darren to plunge his sword in the rider’s heart, she then ran towards Ethan as another rider was preparing to hit him with a large hammer to the head, all while she had only her skinning knife for a weapon.

Yet by the middle of the fight, she laid unconscious, as one of the riders bludgeoned her from the back, while she stopped the charge of another by her falling body.

Annias also shouted, “diamond sun and green boy,” then he made the earth to erupt, engulfing three riders at once, and with another wave of his rod, the air to push back three others, he even sent lightning from his rod at the assailants, putting five riders down, he jumped from spot to another attacking the riders with the elements of nature, but, an arrow struck his rod wielding hand and he was soon armless. Even then, he charged a couple of riders, throwing his body at them, only to be hit viciously on the head, and he fell into darkness.

Darren fought like a mythical hero brought to life from the golden age, he weaved through the battlefield as a phantom, striking one rider by his sword as a mere man, then another by his claws as a wolf, he took down no less than ten riders before he was struck down, and by the end even he was laying down in a pool of his own blood.

From Book 1 – The Green Boy

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