Garinor dashed off the road to the west into the trees, leaving the fallen guardsman behind. The awakening sun disappeared under the thick canopy of leaves and he found himself cast into a bewildering darkness. He knew he would be able to see better once his eyes adjusted to the gloom, but he wondered if he would have time.
He raced deeper into the woods to ensure the attackers could not see him from the roadway. Though he had often been hiking in the forest, he had never needed to be cautious before. His bare feet crunched down on twigs and rocks and he gasped aloud in pain as he went. His feet were soon cut in many places and he stumbled more than once.
Scratched and scuffed, Garinor felt that sense of panic welling up inside of him again. He didn’t even know in which direction he was heading. All he knew was that he was terrified, lost, alone, and that someone had just died trying to take him somewhere.
He stopped for a break ten minutes later, trying to also get his bearings. Because the sun was rising, it would be to the east. If he could see a glimmer of the fiery sphere peeking through the trees, then he could turn north. He knew he didn’t want to head south because the archers had been there. There was no point in actually trying to seek them out.
A few minutes passed and he heard leaves and branches rustling. His breath was calmer and the throbbing in his bare feet was less than it had been before. He kept waiting for some sign that the attackers were gone, but there were no signs. Of course, silence was probably a good thing. Yet it was very hard for him to work up the courage to leave this resting place and to venture out into a dangerous landscape.
He took a deep breath at last and he peered around the tree behind which he had been hiding. It was then he really felt a moment of panic.
Not ten steps away were three hunters, stepping expertly through the forest, making not a sound at all.
Garinor struggled not to gasp or call out in surprise. He pulled himself back to the tree and tried to steady himself again. One of the hunters looked very tall and broad, not much like an archer at all but more like a skilled swordsman. The other two looked like strong women who knew how to use a bow with deadly accuracy. Garinor’s brain raced furiously. Three arrows had hit the guardsman. If only two archers were there right now, then another one had to be somewhere not far behind.
It wasn’t a comforting thought.
Garinor risked another glance and one of the archers pointed off in two directions and her companions went off as indicated. He breathed calmly at his luck. If they were splitting up, he might still get away.
He wasn’t even sure they were after him, but it didn’t seem wise to walk out and strike up a casual chat about it.
Biting his lower lip, Garinor reached his left foot forward and found a soft patch of dirt. He pushed himself forward and reached out for another soundless step. He made four steps in this fashion before his careful steps faltered and he cracked a twig. Only moments later, an arrow thudded into the nearest tree.
He ran.
His feet pounded hard on the littered ground. The scrapes he had already earned were nothing compared to the new gashes he was scoring himself. Sticks and rocks cut open his feet. Stray branches reached out and slashed at his face and arms. Arrows thudded along his path, just barely missing him. He noted that they were all aimed at about the height of his neck and chest. His pursuer wasn’t merely trying to stun him.
The sound of a hooting owl echoed around him, but he realized in a detached sort of way that it wasn’t an owl. It was the archer alerting her companions that the hunt was on in earnest.
A fallen tree lay ahead of him on the ground. He had no other hope. He was out of breath and even the adrenaline rushing through him couldn’t keep him going for long. He dove over the trunk and fell to the ground, scrounging for some way to conceal himself. He heard an arrow hit the tree just a moment later.
He had been seen. His hiding place was hardly safe.
He took a deep breath and was ready to make another run for it, but a cold, shrill voice stopped him cold.
“Poor boy. You didn’t make it very far, did you? Thought you could get away on your own? It seems you didn’t escape soon enough.” She cackled with a vile look in her eyes.
Garinor glanced up, horrified to see an arrow aimed right at his heart. There was no escape. He pleaded with his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but then, with a searing pain, all the world went away.
Garinor did not survive.
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