Chapter 5
The rocks going in the direction she’d chosen to take were getting bigger and bigger. More frequent too. The landscape in general was starting to dry, less and less greenery and more and more dust and rocks was becoming a running theme. The occasional tree sprouted out from the dusty ground. A vulture darkened the branches of one, watching her intently as she rode on by. Rather too intently for her liking. She gave it a second look then ignored it as best she could and rode on. Carefully she guided her horse through the rocky terrain. Slowly the ground began a descent, sloping off among rocks and stones. As she went the descent became steeper and steeper forcing her to lean back in her saddle slightly. Every so often she would feel and hear a hoof miss or slip on the dusty rocky ground. It’s all a question of faith Gabrielle, she told herself, trust your horse. She held the reins and allowed her horse to make its own way to the lower ground. The horse slowly continued at its walk upon reaching the flat ground the slope had led to.
Gabrielle looked left, pulling the reins in that direction to now retake control of her horses motion. Casually she gave a quick look over her right shoulder. Several huge boulders lay some distance away. Returning her gaze to her left she made a second look right. From around the boulders came several horsemen. Slowly the horses made them and their riders clear as they emerged from behind the rocks. Thracians! Allowing her horse to continue in her chosen direction she watched to her right as the Thracian riders now spied her. She kept watching to see if more joined those that were now in full view to her. This was it, just the three of them.
“That’s her.” The declaration could be heard from one of the riders as they all now began drawing their swords.
Gabrielle looked to her left quickly, deciding if it would be best to flee rather than engage the horsemen. Decision made she turned her horse and pulled the chakram from her belt. As she did so the Thracian riders spurred their horses in to a gallop toward her. She raised the weapon and launched it hard with her right hand. The weapon sliced through the air, a whistling noise announcing its presence as it travelled. The lead Thracian rider ducked to his right in his saddle leaving his compatriot behind him to take the weapon to his helmet. Whacked unconscious by the flying steel he dropped his sword and fell from his horse in a cloud of dust. His horse slowed and broke off from the others. The chakram ricocheted off the helmet with an audible clang and returned to the waiting hand of Gabrielle. Her outreached hand grasped the weapon from the air in a spin of her arm and placed it back on her belt.
With the other riders now nearly upon her already, her hand went deftly from the chakram to her sword on her left hip. She pulled it free in a broad swing and held it calmly at her side ready to meet the swords of the approaching Thracians. She spurred her own horse forward and rode to the right side of the lead attacker. He swung his weapon in a cutting motion aimed at slicing her open in her right side. With an awkward twist of her wrist her own sword deflected the blade harmlessly away from her body. The second rider followed swiftly bringing his sword against her face and neck. Already bringing her own sword back from the first attack Gabrielle knocked the sword back to the Thracian and countered the attack. With his sword parried uselessly across him now the second Thracian was open to her counter. In one smooth move Gabrielle pushed aside his attack and then thrust her own sword out and upwards. The blade sliced across the face guard of his helmet knocking him off balance. Momentarily leaning sideways in his saddle the impact from the guard of her sword did the rest. The solid metal dented the rim of the helmet just above the man’s eyes and sent him from his saddle where he landed heavily on his side on the dust and rocks. Gabrielle turned her horse and eyed the man briefly. Two down, she thought eagerly.
The remaining Thracian had turned his horse and was sitting in his saddle watching her calmly. His own sword now resting down by his thigh. Gabrielle stopped her horse to sit and return the stare. Both her and the Thracian now eyed their opponent after the first round of combat had gone to Gabrielle. The Thracian slowly raised his sword to shoulder hight as if inviting Gabrielle to ready herself for a second round. In response Gabrielle raised her own sword above her head and spun it expertly about her head and then brought it back down to her side once more in a swipe in front of her. Almost as one the two urged their horses forward. Both digging their heels in to the haunches of their steeds. The horses lurched in to motion bringing the two together. Their swords struck mid-air between them as they rode straight by each other. The loud unmistakable sound of metal on metal the only consequence of their contact. Gabrielle grunted with the effort of holding her own sword against the huge curved rhomphaia brought against her. Reining in their horses and turning them they eyed each other briefly and spurred their mounts forward yet again.
The Thracian raised his sword up and behind is head slightly. Gabrielle kept her own down by her thigh as the gap between the riders shrank rapidly. Now within striking distance of each other the Thracian swiped his rhomphaia down from behind his head and made to sever Gabrielles upper half from her lower. Counting on the speed at which their horses brought them together and the need for the smaller woman to stay balanced he committed his attack entirely to this move. Gabrielle threw herself back in the saddle with everything she could muster. The huge Thracian blade audibly cut through the air as it sailed over her. Now as flat against the back of her horse as her saddle would allow she swiped up and forward with her own shorter sword, shouting with the effort.
The two riders parted as they had after their previous exchange. Gabrielle sat up and reined in her horse, turning it to see her opponent. As she turned the Thracian fell from his horse. His own sword being dropped in pain from the mortal wound dealt him by the woman. She watched as the man fell backwards over the rump of his horse. Sword landing noisily on the ground. From under the Thracians raised right arm came a spray of blood as his arm flailed about uselessly in his fall. Gathering her wits Gabrielle looked about at the other two riders who had fallen before their compatriot. They were still on the ground, moving slowly and groaning in pain. The third rider was laying still, blood covering best part of his clothing and armour and surrounding rocks. Quickly looking about to make sure they were the only riders around she sheathed her sword and rode off at the best speed the rough ground would allow. The rest of their section wouldn’t be too far from them, scouting in similar groups in the hope of preventing her finding the armour.
For the next few days Gabrielle guided her horse through the dry and rocky landscape, each day evading the Thracian riders as they spread across the land. Either running if the land permitted or standing her ground to engage the Thracians. Though she knew it couldn’t go on. Eventually she would have to try to break from the area and leave them behind or they were going to find her and finish her. Looking about the landscape now from the high ridge she’d all but stumbled upon, she tried to spot a way from the dry and rocky land. Below her in a gulley she noted several riders. They hadn’t seen her. Not yet, she thought as she watched them ride slowly through the gulley. Their dark armour and horses in contrast with the lighter coloured stony ground. She eased on her horses reins to enter a slow walk matching that of the Thracians. All the while keeping ready to turn and run should the riders decide to examine the landscape around them more carefully and look up doing so.
For several hours Gabrielle shadowed the group unnoticed. High above on her ridge she followed them as they rode through the gulley, following its every twist and turn as they went. Up ahead she could see she was running out of ridge. The gulley below about to open up to a wide-open area and beyond that a camp. Damn, Gabrielle thought as she saw the many tents dotted about. No do doubt the Thracians had decided to move most of their number ahead of their scouting parties and make camp at what looked to be the most logical place. The only place she would be able to go through had she stayed at the gulley level, through the open area now occupied entirely by the Thracian horsemen. She reined her horse to a stop and dismounted to lead her horse to the end of the ridge. From there she looked down to examine the encampment. She let go of the reins and crouched to flex her legs and get some feeling back in them after so long in the saddle. She sighed as she looked on at the camp. Not good, she thought as the Thracians now entered the camp from the gulley.
All throughout the camp she could see men moving about, some training, some setting up more tents. They obviously hadn’t been camped here for long. She look passed the camp and its many tents and occupants. Not only did the camp mark a difficult way forward it also marked the end of the rocky terrain. Some way in the distance she could see the rocky ground turning to green hills and wooded groves. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. Looking from camp the hills she wracked her brain for a solution to leave the Thracians behind. With her mind set she stood and returned to her horse. Giving the encampment a last look she turned her horse from the end of the ridge and rode away to find a place for a camp of her own.
With the need to stay undetected camping with no fire felt strange. Even though she’d done it several times in her years, it was not something she was fully accustomed to. It was also colder than normal too. She sat cross-legged and huddled with her horse behind her and pulled the cape about herself. Shivering almost in the cold night. Still, it wouldn’t be long and she would be on her way and leaving the Thracians behind her in the rocky lands. She looked at the pieces of dead wood she’d gathered after formulating her plan to rid herself of the Thracians. The long pieces of dead wood bound with whatever she’d been able to find that was suitable in her travel packs or saddle bags were topped with brushwood. The makeshift torches were almost a disappointing site she thought, having last minute doubts. It was too late now, her plan would either work or die on its feet, hopefully not taking her with it in that respect. She looked up at the night sky. It was nearly time.
Quietly as she could she guided her horse on foot to a point she estimated would give her enough time to retrieve her horse when all Tartarus broke loose. She dropped the reins and moved to her saddle bags. Sticking out of one were the makeshift torches, a small bottle of oil and some flints. She grabbed them and walked quickly to the bottom of the ridge she’d used to follow the Thracian riders earlier that day. She scrambled her way to the top and half crouched half ran to the end. Nearing the end of the ridge she pressed herself flat to the ground and belly crawled almost to the very end. Once there she glanced down on the camp. Most of the place was in darkness. Only a few torches and the odd fire illuminated the encampment. Obviously, they didn’t feel the need to post many guards in the middle of nowhere. Satisfied with the low level of activity in the camp she crawled backwards across the stony ground. Slowly she twisted herself on to her rump and let herself slide back down the ridge slightly then dug her feet in to stop about half way down its slope.
She took a look at her horse and then back up the ridges side. Putting the improvised torches on the ground in front of her she pulled out the pair of flints and the oil. Carefully she poured the flammable oil over the ends each of the torches, then laid them on the ground once more. Lifting the flints she struck them together over one of the torches. The stones clacked together and sparks erupted with each strike. After a few attempts one of the torches flared in to life. She lifted it at arm’s length turning it slowly to allow the flames to catch the dry brushwood tip and light more fervently. Happy that it was now truly ablaze she moved to a little further up the slope and launched the torch as hard as she could over the ridge. She watched as the burning stick flew end over end over the top of the ridge and out of site. She waited a few moments and listened intently. From the other side of the ridge now came a startled cry from one of the Thracians guards. She smiled in satisfaction and hurried to light another torch. Meanwhile she could hear the Thracian joined by others, demanding to know where the first torch had come from. With another torch lit she turned and this time took a running start before throwing the burning wood. She watched as it travelled in a slightly off angle to the first. She could hear the Thracians shouting as the new torch landed somewhere in the camp. More voices were joining them as the torches started fires.
She turned and grabbed two of the remaining three torches. This time she dared to risk moving closer to the ridges top and the camp on the other side. She crouched and placed the torches side by side and hit the flints together over them. Both torches broke in to flames. She tossed the flints and grabbed the torches, one in each hand. She gave a small skip jump and hurled the torches one after the other in to the camp. Not waiting to hear the response from the Thracians she ran back to the last torch, scooped it up in one hand and then sprinted to her horse and mounted as quickly as she could. Behind her voices were now claiming they knew where the torches had come from. On her horse, reins in one hand, unlit torch on the other she turned to see a Thracian breaking the crest of the ridge. Before the Thracian could give warning to his compatriots in the camp behind him Gabrielle spurred her horse forward in to a gallop and shouted encouragement to it.
“Yaaggh.” She cracked the reins and held on as the horse bolted forward. Its hooves sounding loudly on the tough dusty ground. The Thracian on the ridge made to throw himself at her as she rode by below his position. He failed miserably and only succeeded in landing short and rolling the rest of the way down the ridge behind her. Gabrielle meanwhile thundered out of the gulley and in to the Thracian camp. The scene she rode in to was one of chaos and surprise. The Thracians were coming out of their tents to rush and help douse the flames that her torches had caused. In front of her now as she exited the gulley were several burning tents, the flames being gently blown in to neighbouring marquees by the light nights breeze to light them as well. She powered through on her horse and held the torch out to a flaming tent, several Thracians scrambling to get out of her way or be rammed by her horse as she went. All around flames caught the tents of the camp and the guards rushed from place to place to manage the damage. Gabrielle shouted her horse forward more and drove it between the burning tents. She raised the burning torch in her hand and when she reached the edge of the encampment she tossed if on to the nearest tent, setting it ablaze aiding in slowing any pursuit. She drove her horse forward again and towards the greener hill lands. Her dust trail disappeared in to the darkness leaving the Thracians to salvage their camp.
To be continued in Chapter 6