Chronicles of a So-called Fire God (Abridged)

16. Chasing the Herald

We headed for the North Gate. It was the only possible way the Dead Keepers could have left the city. There was also a visible path of destruction in the streets between here and there. 

At the gate we stopped to talk to the militia men who were stationed there. Not one was standing; the cultists had seen to that. One dead, three injured. The captain of the gate was the only one of the five men here unscathed. He was tending to his men when we arrived.

"Are you able to manage here?" I asked.

"Yes," the captain said. "I've asked a local boy to fetch help."

"Which direction did they go?" asked Torq.

The captain just pointed. In the direction of the man's finger there was a dust cloud hovering above the plain. They had quite a head start. We would have to ride hard to even get close. It was already late morning and the sun was still warming the land, but the light would not last long at this time of year. We would need to catch them soon. 

We galloped hard towards the ever receding cloud of dust in the distance, we'd never catch them at this speed. However, they were heading for the Tower Peaks, a range of mountains nearby. The foothills would slow them down. They had carts with them too, so the hills would soon act to our advantage.

After nearly three hours of riding we reached the foothills. This area was all meadow grass and flowers, which meant that we'd lost the dust cloud a short while ago. Lestergrad had been checking the ground every so often to confirm we were still on the right path. Near the first hills we found the carts, abandoned.

Lestergrad got down from his horse and looked carefully at the trail. "They definitely came this way. But now there are done on foot too. This will help."

I got down from my horse too. "The horses could do with a rest from riding," I said. "We've been pushing them quite hard."

"Agreed," said Lestergrad. "We should walk for a spell."

We walked for another hour, leading our horses by their reins, while the late afternoon sun was starting to dip and set. The orange and red hues caused by the setting sun were glorious to behold, but this was not a sightseeing trip.

Lestergrad was using lots of tracking tricks; some, such as tasting the dirt, turned my stomach a little. Others were less disgusting and even my untrained eyes could see that we were obviously following a large group of people on foot and horseback.

We had been chasing the cultists for hours but with the darkening sky it would be difficult to continue for much longer. Our horses would need to rest, and so would we. Resting was not that good an idea, we could fall further behind. However, the night would mean our quarry would need to stop too. And there were few other choices.

We made the decision to only have a short rest; each keeping only two hours watch while the others slept. Torq volunteered for the middle watch so I took the first watch and Lestergrad took the last.

When it was my time to sleep it was fitful and full of disturbing dreams. A cloaked figure was mumbling something while throwing chicken bones on the ground in front of him. The only phrase I could make out and remember when I woke was, "He is coming." Who "he" was or is I could not tell from the dream. When Lestergrad woke me, I drew my dagger expecting danger. Lestergrad caught my hand before I could sink the blade into his neck. 

"Calm, my friend," he said.

I blinked hard a few times to clear my eyes and brain. In my mind I could still see the cloaked figure.

A second later my mind was back to the real world and Lestergrad's face was all I could see. "Let's get going." I was up in a flash and getting my things together. My dream still lingered. It disturbed my thoughts while I gathered my things.