Post by ASGetty ((Zovo)) on Nov 13, 2010 2:03:21 GMT -5
Chapter One
Coalti was tired of walking. He’d been at it for days now, eight tedious days of trudging onward with one singular resolve; home. A born native of the area, he knew this to be the worst time for travel. The autumn in the foothills was a grueling season. By day the season’s death-grip on the fading summer manifested in waves of shimmering heat radiating from the hard stone flagstones of the road, drying the grass and leaves and it’s edges.
In the darkness of night, though, lurked the first specters of winter. As the sun crept below the horizon each evening, thick roiling clouds would gather, and by the time the red moon would have just peaked above the mountains in the east storm would obscure it completely; casting the land into the pitchest of blacks and unleashing a torrent of rain that would pummel his sweat soaked body unrelentingly until morning.
As a result, Coalti was constantly wet, sleepless, and hungry; for while in any other season he could forage on the bountiful foodstuffs provided by the wooded hills surrounding, in the autumn the only growth to be found were tough thorny brambles. Woody and tasteless, their barbed tendrils grew in thick patches tall enough to meet him at the shoulder just beyond the tree line confining him completely to the track winding onward endlessly before him. He shook the sweat from his face and glanced bitterly into the trees, knowing that even these vines which would bite back could have produced a feast of berries had he been travelling only a phase or so earlier in the year, but now the forest dwelling creatures had stripped the choicest morsels from the branches and those which were left were dry and without nutrients.
All of this was compounded by his wounds, the numerous cuts and bruises which marked his muscular body, gashes and scabs having gone undressed for as long as he’d been moving. Worse still, his hip ached from limping for a full day, a stone having lodged itself in his shoe and refusing to be shaken free, and he dragged behind him a heap of dead-weight no less tenacious.
It was mid day and the previous night’s rain was still escaping back into the clouds above, regrouping for another evening assault and casting a smothering, humid, pall upon the land. He shifted uncomfortably under the packs and rigging against his skin, feeling the places where it chaffed and rubbed his flesh raw sting anew as sweat leaked onto them. Coalti lowered his head and pressed onward. He knew there was a ford not far ahead; he’d crossed it when he left home what seemed like a lifetime ago and now he could hear the trickling of the shallow river crossing.
He could smell the fresh scent of water and when his eyes finally glimpsed the beds of luscious green grass along the riverbank Coalti paid no heed to the thought of that stone splitting his hoof, mustered his dwindling strength and galloped full tilt to the edge of the water snaking it’s way through the basin below. The wind whistled through his bridle as he chomped at the bit. Coalti raced down the hillside slowing only when the bundle of flesh behind him snagged on stones or limbs, or bounced awkwardly drawing him off balance interrupting his aching strides. He drew heaving breaths into his equine lungs and his heart pounded in his barrel chest but he ran, heedless of pain or injury, and just when he feared his bad leg might finally give out beneath him Coalti reached the riverside.
Wasting no time he plunged into the flow, and despite the buffeting of small smooth river-stones against his injured leg, the cool water felt good. He bowed his head and drank in great draughts, splashing about playfully, wetting his unkempt tail and lashing it across his body, delivering the soothing water to his various wounds. He wanted to lie down and roll in the rushing current, to feel the water ripple across his aching body washing away sweat and dust and mud and grit.
He could not, though, Coalti realized. The cursed saddle strapped to his body made such and action nearly impossible without the dead man hanging limply from the rigging. Coalti snorted in annoyance and derision at the corpse floating limply in the water downstream from where he drank; one leg pointed comically skyward with its booted foot hung-up in the stirrup. For eight days he’d been lugging this man around with him, the first five having been pretty standard, upright in the saddle. But, as men are wont to do, this one was struck down in combat with other men and had remained as such for the last three, dead weight. A corpse, the kind of man who couldn’t unhitch the feedbag from the saddle if he’d wanted to. That might have been the worst of the walk for Coalti; knowing he carried with him enough food to last him well longer than the trek home, but being completely unable to get at it. Many a rainy night he had spent stewing on this.
It mattered little now; Coalti directed his attention away from the broken and rancid corpse behind him, and onto the welcoming grasses before him. He nestled his nose into the soft green blades, enjoying how they playfully tickled his nostrils, welcoming the change in scent from that of his unwelcome companion. If nothing else, the river might wash that away.
Coalti scanned the skyline to the north, the clouds had not yet gathered. He knew that home lay just beyond the hill on the opposite side of the river. His two instincts battled for supremacy; he desperately wanted to sleep but he knew if he kept moving he could be home before the rains came and sleep somewhere dry. The bit was uncomfortable in his mouth and swallowing was difficult, a number of times resulting in snorted coughs, but after several long minutes of deliberate concentration Coalti settled into a chewing rhythm and chomped lazily on the sweet flora. No sense making such a decision on an empty stomach.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A tumultuous chaos greeted his arrival at Nin Tan'Tho, both startling and confusing Coalti. He jerked his head from side to side, trying to keep his reins out of the dozens of grasping hands surrounding him on all sides. His eyes searched wildly for solace as he reared up on his back legs raising him high above the crowd. His hoof cam in contact with a man's skull and the small form crumpled limply to the mud. Coalti kicked again and cried out.
Coalti turned his body, throwing his weight in the direction of the gate through which he'd entered the fort. He felt another body collapse beneath his hulking frame and his hooves came down on something soft but firm that cracked on impact.