Jacob moved the horse-mounted guards into a diamond formation, surrounding himself, Moira, and Felix; left to right.
“Forward!” Jacob ordered, and the group began to trot along the hoof-worn path at just less than a gallop. Felix noticed that the road was mostly sod and mud, but gravel had been worked into the surface over time. He could feel the stiffness reverberating through the musculature of his mount. His and Jacob’s horses marched a single step behind that of Moira.
“How far is it to Delta?” Felix asked.
“Let’s limit the conversation until we are in a more secure location. Two days,” Jacob answered.
“Do you think there are more of those things?”
“It’s not them I’m worried about.”
Moira neither spoke nor looked anywhere but straight ahead. Felix and Jacob scanned the sides. To Felix’s right, the foothills of a great mountain range. Nestled atop one of the middle peaks, Felix could make out the canopy of the tree atop the ant colony. From this angle, the trunk was obscured by the surrounding foliage. He remembered not being able to see it from the village either. Felix wondered if the Clergy knew its location. He wished he had his maps with him.
Jacob made a curt whistle, sounding like a small, cheery bird. One of the right guards broke left, and the three formed a wall between Moira and the river. Each retrieved a horned bow from a saddle quiver and knocked the longest arrows Felix had ever seen.
Felix craned his neck, squinting in the direction of their attention. Jacob’s focus was catlike, ready.
“Felix, keep your guard to the right.”
He made another chipper bird whistle, and the rear guard galloped to Felix, returning Felix’s club to his possession.
Another whistle from Jacob, a third bird sound, and all five guards deployed a shield on their left elbow. Some kind of mechanism unfolded the shield like an Asian folding fan from the movies.
“Stay alert,” Jacob whispered, just loud enough for Felix to hear.
The echo of a giant, deep warhorn sounded from the top of the mountain range to the north, opposite the river.
Jacob shouted, “Expedite!”
The party increased speed to a solid gallop.
“Tighten formation. Shields up.”
The order was implemented immediately, crisp movement and unison delivery.
A flock of dark birds took flight in alarm near the base of the mountains to the north, and the world grew silent, save for the river and panting steeds.
“Faster!” Jacob commanded, and the formation sped to a full sprint.
Felix stood in his saddle, leaning back slightly, holding the mane for support.
The horses panted heavily, salivating, tired.
Jacob retrieved his own horn from his waist, brought it to his lips, and blew a deafening series of blasts.
“WHOOOOOOOO!!! WHOOOOOOOOO!!!”
The formation rounded left, facing the broad river: four guards in front, then Jacob, Moira, and Felix at the rear. All four stood in their saddles, bows at the ready, bow hands clasping spears, arrows laid across the left of the stave.
Across the field, Felix saw several lines ripping through the tall grass of the river’s sedimentary plain, closing on them.
“Knock!” Jacob called, and they did.
The incoming creatures still could not be seen, but did not slow. The trails betraying their locations began to spread outward in a flanking motion.
“Fire sectors!”
The four guards spread their horses to create a fan of coverage.
“Draw!”
Both banks of the river were steep where the water had etched into the ground over millennia. The incoming creatures burst from the grass on the far bank, their bodies flying through the air before landing with heavy splashes in the river below.
Felix caught a glimpse of the animals as they emerged from the foliage of the far bank.
WTF?!?
They were like Slender Man dogs, with abnormally long snouts and a tall, coarse mane of black hair.
And they were fucking talking.
Not English, but they were fucking talking.
“LOOSE!”
Four arrows flew with deadly accuracy. Three of the creatures fell, but five still advanced.
“WHErrrrooootthh!”
One of them growled, and they all changed direction at once, now moving downstream. The following volley of arrows missed.
“Single column left!”
Jacob adjusted, noting that the movement of the attacking party would bunch the spear shafts against the horses, preventing the ability to lead the targets without dropping the spears. Rotating clockwise would allow for more firing angle, but expose the left flank of the soldiers.
The nightmare dogs immediately turned back toward their target, sensing the opening, now charging directly at the four guards.
Five versus four.
“Loose!”
Another volley rained down on the ambush.
Three more fell.
“Away!” Jacob called.
Felix’s horse lunged, and he almost fell. The party surged just as the two remaining dogs leapt from the river, landing on the bank where they had just been. The animals turned to see their prey fleeing and lost precious time turning and launching into a sprint.
Moira’s party was already at speed, but it was short-lived. The dogs began to close the distance in a matter of moments, clearly moving much faster than the horses.
“Basket!”
The leading two guards broke hard right, as the back-left two surged forward on the party’s left. The dogs relentlessly closed the gap, continuing to gain on their retreat.
Felix gasped as the right two guards leaned back on their horses, firing arrows over their heads at the hounds. The dogs split, narrowly evading the incoming arrows and losing precious speed. The two riders sat up, spinning their spears in their bow hands so that the spear tips were now facing aft, and charged up the left flank.
By then, the other two riders were on the right, also leaning back to fire.
The horses wheezed with exhaustion. The dogs seemed undaunted, themselves weaving to avoid incoming volleys.
Felix could hear them growling out words to each other, and the two dogs veered to the right and into the tall grass, now on the weak side of the formation.
Felix’s side.
“Spear!” Felix called out.
Without hesitation, the nearest guard tossed his weapon to Felix, who almost dropped his club trying to catch it.
No sooner did Felix gain control of the lance, tip pointed down to his right, than one of the hounds leapt from the grass.
Not at Felix, but at Moira, who rode one-half horse ahead in formation. Her hand extended, a long obsidian shard at the ready, but tiny in comparison with the lunging beast, which was easily the size of her own horse.
Felix led the flying animal, which flew into the tip of his spear, impaling itself through the side. The velocity of the beast caused the shaft of the spear to lever against his horse’s neck and his own body, throwing him from his mount.
Felix felt weightless for a moment, then the ground came up to meet him in a hard burst of pain and dust. He rolled to a stop in the tall grass, struggling to gain his wits, managing to maintain his club.
Shouting in the distance.
Felix found his feet and stumbled back toward the party, finding the wounded animal still impaled on the spear, the shaft having broken off. The animal thrashed and attempted to stand.
Felix still leveled his club at the dog, knowing the tool was too short and slow to match the beast’s speed and reach.
The animal made a series of oddly humanesque barking sounds, and Felix heard the response from the tall grass behind him.
The grass around him was too tall to see over, but Felix could hear his party several yards ahead, having slowed and turned. Much too far away to help, if they even knew where he was. It would be dangerous for them to enter this thicket, potentially risking their own lives.
Felix faced the supposed direction of the other beast, his back toward what he believed would be the river based on the sound. He began to slowly backstep, keeping the injured animal far to his right.
Again, the injured dog made a series of grunting pronunciations, and the grass ahead shifted.
Motherfucker is giving intel, Felix thought. Exactly what I would be doing in this situation.
Okay, shithead. Let’s test this theory.
Felix charged the injured animal, which shrieked in anger, anguish, and fear.
“Fuck you!” Felix screamed as he brought his club down on the dog’s hind paw.
It howled in pain and protest, attempting to stand but finding its back paw useless. Felix found the rest of the shaft of the spear, pointing it at the downed animal, circling but keeping his gaze on the grass ahead.
The thicket quaked with a menacing, angry growl, but Felix held the shaft at the animal, club raised to strike again.
A face broke through the reeds, level with Felix’s, teeth bared and eyes furious with rage.
This was more than animal instinct.
This was fury.
The injured animal whimpered slightly. The other hound’s focus broke as its eye glinted toward its companion, its expression taking on a momentary, pained look of sadness and fear.
Felix raised his club a fraction higher, breaking the spell.
The stalking beast’s face again took on an expression of hate.
Felix lowered his weapon slightly, and the animal’s brows came together, pleading.
“This one is yours?” Felix asked the animal.
He could hear his party closing, searching, now barely ten meters away. The beast glanced toward the sound of the horses, then back to the fallen dog, brows furrowing hard in concern.
“Forgive me!”
Felix lowered the spear shaft to the ground and knelt, his spear hand splaying flat in surrender.
Felix spun and fled from the grass.
He burst back onto the trail, almost expecting to be immediately mauled to death, but somewhere deep inside, he knew that the threat was over.
The other riders saw him and moved in.
“Where are they?” Jacob asked, eyes searching the grass field for signs.
“Gone,” Felix responded. “I found the broken spear and blood, but they broke contact. Could we kindly get the fuck out of here?”
Jacob eyed Felix hard for several seconds. Felix held the man’s stare, every fiber of his being resisting the urge to look back.
“So they’re gone,” Jacob said, more a statement than a question.
“I believe, yes.”
Jacob’s face looked suspicious and distrustful.
“Let’s not wait around to find out how full of shit you are.”
Artavus Quill 