Tweet of the Day: Revisions- It’s the Little Things
The blare of the hunting horn hounded us through the woods. Snarls and barks filled the air, as thick as the fog that enveloped the little group of escapees.
The Aos Si were on the Hunt.
The same damn hounds, with long limbs and longer noses sniffed the wind. They had the scent.
No place to hide, no place to stand, only one place to hobble.Each mile drained the muscles. Each step tore away the will to live. No hope behind us, no respite in front of us. Sigrud and Sigurn led the way. Their poise gave the group strength.
I expected frost on the ground, at this time of year, but the days were still warm.
How long had I lived as the Queen’s Champion? Days, Months, Years?
Thirst mingled with hunger at the tune of barks and horns. Even Caliburn, the lightest of blades, felt heavy.
Three days from our escape, when more horns blared in front of us. The hunters had us surrounded.
But why is Sigrud smiling? And where is he going?
A long line of spear-men rose above the ridge to our front. The brothers rushed to greet them. Words in the barbarian tongue crashed into our ears.
Sigrud came down with the leader, “Severus, I present to you my kinsman, Olaf. Olaf, I present to you Severus.” The barbarian grunted and I did the same. “He has sent men ahead, to intercept the hunters. We will go to our father’s hall and speak with him. We will tell him of this treachery.”
This Olaf did not look like a horse, but I wasn’t about to look at his mouth to check, “Lead on Sigrud. Lead on.”
Yet I still the felt the hounds at my back and heard the distant echoes of their baying. The Hunt had being delayed, but it would not be denied.