Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 1iii

This chapter is dedicated to Tristam James for his votes and comments. 'A Country Life' and 'Aveline and the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse' are two that I can highly recommend. 'Comet' is one to read if you like a bit of good old fashioned 'Boys Own' excitement. Check out 'Contact Report' of you're after some Sci-fi humour, and 'Tyne' if you just want some stunningly well written prose.

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Ten seconds passed before Mistress Lau's arm fell and the karabok horn sounded again. Out in the grass, the Madriel-mistresses each let out a shout and turned their steeds to face the two fleeing figures.

At that signal the hunt began.

Lithe shapes broke suddenly from the grass, which hissed and parted to let them pass. This was not the normal hunting of the Pride. There was no subtle stalking through the grass' cover, no clever flanking and sudden ambush. The prey knew they were the hunted and so the hunters simply charged, converging on their targets like twin flights of arrows.

Harl was the first to die. As Mistress Lau had promised, it was the youngsters that reached him, and his death was not quick, though it was briefer than the one Sir Unsaethel had warned of. A young female caught his leg and he tumbled into the grass, issuing a scream that rose in terror and pain as the other youngsters fell on him.

"A pity," said the old knight as the scream was cut off.

Sir Kralaford watched the young animals leaping and fighting over the body, which was invisible beneath the press of tawny forms.

"A pity that he did not speak up sooner."

"Your men should have interrogated him more thoroughly when they had the chance. Now, where did that other thief go?"

"He is hiding in that patch of tanglebrush," said Sir Kralaford and pointed to a shallow gulley, filled with twisted branches. The older females of Hakansa's Pride had halted in their pursuit to sniff about its edge and along its length.

"So," said Sir Unsaethel speculatively, as he watched them. "The Free-clans are still stirring the bandits to cause us trouble, despite their protestations of innocence."

"Are you surprised?"

"No," said Sir Unsaethel bitterly. "Damn Solridge! If I had known how troublesome the place would become, I would have urged Lord Morath to its immediate recapture after Wessvall."

"We both know it would have been impossible. The past is done and we can only hope that the next Grand-commander has better powers of foresight."

Sir Unsaethel merely grunted.

"Can they not find the man?" he said, turning his attention back to the frantic activity of the madriel females that still prowled up and down the length of the tanglebrush filled gulley .

"They do seem a little uncertain of his location."

"Well the fool cannot stay there all day. Once these youngsters have finished with our dead friend here, they will soon be in there to roust him out."

And indeed some of the youngest females, unable to penetrate the writhing press about Harl's body, had already turned their attention to his accomplice's hiding place. They bounded into the tangle of branches, squeezing their smaller bodies through the snarl of dry wood, but Sacachwa did not wait to be rousted out. Suddenly, the Clansman broke cover at the far end of the gulley and began his flight towards the refuge marker.

"Clever," said Sir Unsaethel, for the man had removed his light shoes and his tunic, leaving them and their scent behind, in the depths of the brush.