FREE STORIES 2012(29)

Asgalt looked longingly at the fire wishing it were larger, then doused it "Now get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a bad day."

Dawn broke cold and clear, and when Asgalt awoke, Flan and the girl had already made another small fire. He was stiff and his back hurt. "Damn ill trained horse," he muttered as he tried to stretch himself into some semblance of a man rather than an aching mass of bones. He was peeved that they had awakened before he did. Usually he awoke first and fully alert. But now he felt that he needed more hours of sleep. He was groggy and only half awake as he munched his meager breakfast. They mounted, and began a slow, tiring ride up the hill.

The terrain was rocky, with little clefts and culverts, down a short, steep incline, then up a longer steeper one. But slowly they climbed higher and higher. They rounded a bad bend and the mountain loomed forbiddingly over them.

They paused to rest the horses and Asgalt was quite pleased when Flan suggested it. While the horses drank from a small mountain stream the Duke looked back down the trail.

"Flan, come take a look. I can't make out anything, but do you see something? Seems to be some movement?"

Flan shaded his eyes. "Shang. A large party. Anywhere from fifty to a hundred."

"They know. Best get moving."

They camped that night under an overhanging rock. Not having planned on the girl, they found their supplies were quickly giving out. The Shang horse had had no food bag. It seemed to Asgalt that he had just fallen asleep when Eithne was shaking him. "Your Grace, time to be moving. The Shang followed into the night."

Asgalt rose quickly and his body protested. Pain shot through his back, and his elbows and shoulders felt as if they were locked in irons. "What? How do you know?"

Flan spoke quietly. "I awoke early, slipped down the trail. Saw them. They gained quite a bit on us."

The Duke nodded. "Let the horse go. From here on up we have to climb. One more day, then we can be over the bridge by mid-morning of the next."

Flan discarded his armor and shield, keeping only his sword and spear. He suggested that Asgalt do the same, but the Duke shook his head.

"No. I've had both for twenty years, and when they build my cairn I want them inside. And I need the axe."

The climb was slow and painful. Asgalt watched with envy as Flan made his way up, his breathing never quickening nor his stride faltering. Asgalt felt as if he weighed a ton, but stubbornly refused to discard his armor. He cursed the soft living, and resolved to spend more time in the field, refusing to admit that age had anything to do with it.

The land leveled and the going became easier. Asgalt pointed. "There's a stream over there. Good place to rest a moment. Afterwards, it's a bad climb, but we'll have a good place to sleep. It eases off in the morning."

Eithne greeted the small stream and pond with a cry of pleasure. Quickly she ran and jumped in it. Flan and Asgalt both smiled, and Flan quickly followed the girl. Asgalt slipped off his armor, and the release from the weight felt good. Then he, too, slipped into the pool.

But knowledge of what was ahead of them, and what was behind them made the stay brief. Asgalt brought the spears back, leaned them against the rock and spread their clothes to dry. They finished the last of the food, drank some water, then slowly dressed.

Just as they had finished dressing, Flan looked back up the stream, and his voice was cold and flat.

"Well, we're in it now!"

Asgalt followed his gaze. There, beside his armor and the only way out, stood three Shang warriors.

The Duke grunted and spat disgustedly. "Three, fully armed, and us with only spears."

He glanced around, and the bare rock walls loomed mockingly over him. He turned, plucked a knife from his belt, and casually tossed it to Eithne. "Here girl, in case we fail."

Asgalt and Flan watched stoically as the three Shang closed their ranks and began a slow march toward them.

Fully armed, the two would have been more than a match for the three. Fully armed, one alone may have won, but armed with nothing but a spear apiece, and with no armor, their future looked dim indeed. Both were too experienced in combat to feel they had much chance.

Suddenly the Shang stopped, and one pointed with his sword. "Old Man!" he yelled. "Do you know me? Look well and long, for I mean to give your dead eyes a better view on the end of my lance!"

Asgalt snarled and roared, "You spawn of a snake. I missed you once, but I won't now!"

He then spoke quietly to Flan.

"I know that dog. We fought once before, and my horse bolted before I could kill him. Then a Spaewoman said he would never die by my hand. Since then he's hoped to meet me." His voice grew low and urgent. "Listen, we may stand a chance. He's convinced that I want to kill him myself. What I want you to do is charge with me, then before we hit, fall back, and stab whatever comes open. I'll hit alone. But whatever you do, keep glancing at Artor, the one with the red shield."