tons. It was designed that way to enable it to be dropped quickly in time of emergency, and its weight was all that prevented an enemy from lifting it. Since the day he had received the earth bond Dorian had been aware of a noticeable increase in his strength and stamina, but this seemed far beyond possibility.
In the distance he could see them loading Penny and Miriam onto the waiting horses. “To hell with what’s possible,” he said and crouching down he took a firm grip of the bottom of the portcullis. Drawing a deep breath he began to lift, keeping his back straight and his arms locked while his legs strained to lift him up. At first nothing happened, but while he struggled he began to hear a great thumping beneath him, like a massive heart, beating in time with his own. Give me the strength, he thought.
Something answered his call, for he felt energy suffusing his limbs and while his face turned red and his body trembled, the portcullis began to lift. As he came up a long drawn out cry of pain and effort issued from deep within him, while the portcullis gathered upward momentum, rising faster as it approached chest height. Not daring to pause he used that momentum and centering himself under the heavy metal he thrust it upward above him.
Time slowed for a moment as he held the massive structure above him, and by all rights the weight alone should have crushed him. Looking downward he saw the wizard watching him. “If you’re going to move, now would be a good time…” he ground out slowly between clenched teeth. Comprehension dawned on the stranger’s face and he began dragging himself out of the way… leaving a trail of blood behind him.
Once he was clear, Dorian stepped outward and let gravity take its course and the massive portcullis slammed down behind him. He looked at the wizard lying on the ground on the other side. “Let them help you when they finally get over their fear of your ‘dragon’ and you might live. I want to talk to you when I get back,” he told him. He wasn’t sure if the fellow was still conscious but he thought he saw him nod an acknowledgement. The man was in such a bad state he might have imagined it.
Turning away Dorian began to run toward the group of men and horses that were beginning to ride away. They were over fifty yards away and he could clearly see Penny being held in front of one of the riders. Miriam had been slung sideways over the back end of another horse. He took that as a bad sign, since in general only corpses were slung across horses like that. If she were alive the position would do nothing to keep her that way.
Running in armor was an interesting proposition normally, something usually reserved for very short charges. In the chain mail that most men wore it was a difficult affair… the weight of the armor served as a limiting factor. In the plate armor he now wore it should have been even more awkward, not because of weight, plate actually weighed slightly less than chain, but because of the more restricted mobility the armor afforded. Yet again Mort had worked a miracle. The armor was cunningly crafted and moved very freely with his body. It still would have hindered a run, but because it worked to augment his own motions it made it feel almost as though he were running without armor at all.
It still wasn’t perfect however, and it did slow him down more than running in normal clothes would have. Fifty yards wouldn’t have been too much for a normal charge, but the riders were now spurring their mounts to a canter, creating more distance between him and those he was determined to reach. Hopeless as it was he ran anyway.
Dorian thought of nothing else besides running. He had never been a great sprinter but being tall and athletic he was no slouch either. His breath quickened as his legs drove him forward, pumping rhythmically. A minute passed and still he ran, and the riders seemed no further away than when he had started. The party ahead of him consisted of six horses bearing riders and several without a rider; those had probably been for the men he had slain. One horse carried double, having an armsman plus Penny aboard, while another carried Miriam alone slung across it like so much dead weight.
Because of the heavy burden on the horse carrying Penny and her captor the others were forced to maintain a slower pace, and incredibly it appeared to be one he could match. He pushed himself harder, hoping to close the gap though in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder when his stamina would run out.
Apparently his quarry had begun to wonder the same thing. Two of the riders, who had brought the horses to meet the fugitives, were looking backward with incredulous faces as they watched him run. On the face of it, it was ridiculous… a man in heavy armor could not hope to keep up with horses, even at a moderate pace such as they were riding at now, yet he was beginning to gain on them.
Finally with a word to his fellows one of the riders turned aside and made to intercept him. Drawing his sword the man urged his mount to a full gallop, charging directly at the maniac following them. With barely forty yards between them when he turned Dorian’s opponent wasn’t able to get his horse up to full speed; not that he needed to do so.
Dorian crossed the distance rapidly while the fellow turned his horse and prepared to ride him down. They drew together with surprising speed but Dorian never slowed, opting instead to run straight for the horse rather than try to avoid it. Seconds later the animal grew large in his view and he could see its rider leaning out to catch him in the sweep of his sword. Just before they met the horse tried to adjust its course enough to avoid a collision, but Dorian wasn’t having that and he headed straight into it.
The poor beast reared as they came together and he came up under its right shoulder as it flailed and tried to keep from losing its balance. With a shock he straightened up as he passed under the horse and drove all of his momentum up and forward; the move cost him most of his forward speed, yet after stumbling drunkenly for several yards he was able to regain his rhythm and begin running again. The horse he had struck was nowhere to be seen but he didn’t pause to ponder that mystery, choosing instead to focus on catching up to Penny and her abductors. They had gained several tens of yards in distance after his collision.
Dorian ran on. His breath was coming heavily now, and he was starting to stagger every so often as he ran, but he didn’t slow. His mouth tasted of blood and iron while his lungs sounded like a raspy set of bellows, but he ran on. Those he was chasing didn’t make the mistake of sending anyone else back to delay him, but he saw Ruth looking over her shoulder frequently. She seemed surprised at his perseverance, and she didn’t give the impression that she surprised easily. Dorian grinned at the thought.
Long minutes passed and still his chase continued. They had turned off of the road near the forest, a mile or so from Lancaster, and now they were following a small trail. They had probably planned the route in advance to help avoid any patrols or pursuit, but they hadn’t counted on Dorian. The smaller trail with its tendency to wander and the occasional low limb forced the riders to slow even more and now Dorian was gaining rapidly. He was now within ten yards of the last horse, an unused palfrey following the rearmost armsman’s mount. The man had wrapped its reins loosely around the front of his saddle, keeping his hands free while he nervously watched Dorian closing on them.
The rider’s face was a study in fear as he watched Dorian draw close, till he was almost able to touch the free horse the man was leading. Drawing his sword in one economical motion Dorian neatly severed the left rear leg of the horse several feet from the ground. Screaming in pain the animal fell and began tumbling; its cries of pain combined with the jerking of the lead rope connecting it to the horse ahead of it created instant pandemonium. In seconds the trail was littered with the bodies of both horses along with the unfortunate rider.
Dorian ignored the carnage and ran on, though he was forced to leap over one of the horses as it fell. He regretted killing the horses, but at the time he had only one thought on his mind… the two people he was charged with protecting.
Ruth rode in the lead, with Penny in front of her and looking backward she gauged Dorian’s distance carefully. The look on her face worried him for a moment for it had changed. It was no longer the face of someone desperate to escape but rather the face of someone planning their next move. Drawing her sword she cut the lead line that tethered Miriam’s mount to hers, leaving the unguided horse to drift away. Then she faced forward again and leaned to the left, stretching out her sword arm, as if she meant to cut down an invisible foe.
Her action puzzled Dorian until he saw the rope, which she gracefully cut in two as she rode past, and then he felt the rumble in the ground. It was one of the oldest and simplest traps, a deadfall of cut logs piled and braced up and to the left of the trail. Once the rope was cut the supports keeping the timbers in place fell away and the logs began rolling sideways across the trail, sweeping horses and men away, like some wooden tide. The only one that escaped the trap was Ruth… along with Penny naturally.
The horse bearing Miriam’s body went down as its legs were swept sideways by the first of the rolling timbers. Luckily her ‘mount’ had been slowing down already and Dorian was nearly beside it when the cascade of logs arrived. Leaping forward he caught her as her body tumbled from its back and without knowing what else to do he dropped to the ground and tried to shield her body with his own. Chance as much as good reflexes allowed him to get her onto the ground so he could cover her body with his own before the rest of the wooden avalanche
