they caught him.
He turned Essey left, away from the river and toward the treeline about the base of the Aralya Range. The rolling farmland climbed gently and Essey's gallop seemed to slow just a little. Daryd kicked her desperately, looking about to find that both Hadryn horses had cut across the corner of his sharp turn, and were now halving the previous distance. Another mistake. But he hadn't had a choice.
The high ridge of the Aralya Range loomed far above, like an enormous, sheer rock wall. The paddock slope became steeper and the treeline closer. Another glance behind and he could see the foam about the Hadryn horses’ mouths and the red decorations hanging from their bridles. Closer and closer they pounded. Rysha's grip was painfully tight.
Essey managed a final burst of speed and then they tore amongst the trees—they were pines here, not the broadleaf of the riverbank. There was space between the trunks and Daryd wove Essey between them. Trunks flashed past at dangerous speed, Essey slowing somewhat, but the big Hadryn horses slowed more.
Suddenly the forest floor surged up in a sheer rock wall and Daryd turned Essey to the right, galloping that way and hoping it too would not be blocked…a Hadryn cut past behind and Daryd saw the man's determined face, his jaw set beneath his helm, sword in hand and fighting the reins one-handed.
The bigger horses seemed to have trouble changing direction amongst the trees, however, and Essey surged ahead, just missed colliding with a pine…and then there was a line of thick broadleaf ahead, and undergrowth, where a stream fell from the Aralya mountain face. Daryd plunged into it, undergrowth tearing at Essey's legs, branches whipping at his face. It opened suddenly into the stream, into which Essey splashed, then bounded up the far side. The undergrowth there was impenetrable and so Daryd reined her downslope, searching for a way through…and suddenly there was a Hadryn rider crashing across the stream in front of him, moving to cut him off. The second rider had flanked him, he realised in shock. The oldest manoeuvre of horseback warfare. He'd fancied himself an Udalyn warrior, but in truth, it seemed that he was just a boy after all.
Behind him, the first rider was now crashing onto the far streambank, cutting him off completely. Something hissed through the air, then a thud…the first rider screamed, then cursed. Daryd stared and saw the man had been struck by an arrow in the shoulder and was struggling to stay ahorse. Then there was another horse emerging from the treeline directly behind Daryd and Rysha, its rider wielding a bow.
The second Hadryn charged along the streambank and the new rider cast the bow aside, charging past Daryd and Rysha whilst pulling his sword. Essey reared in fright, then Rysha screamed and fell from the saddle.
“Rysha!” Daryd cried as the two riders collided with yells and clashing steel, horses shrieking and stamping…but Daryd cared only for Rysha, leaping from Essey's back and slithering down the streambank where she'd rolled. A horse fell and rolled in the stream with a huge splash and a man emerged soaked from the water alongside—his hair was longish, Daryd saw, and he wore no colours or mail. His horse bounded clear of the stream—a smaller horse, like Essey—and the Hadryn, still astride, descended the sloping bank with weapon raised.
The fallen man pulled a knife and threw, which the Hadryn swatted with a mailed arm…but the big horse reared and the fallen man sprang forward and thrust for the Hadryn's leg. The Hadryn yelled with a yank on the reins, causing the big horse to twist, then slip and fall. It slid heavily into the water, scrambling once more to its feet as its rider staggered upright in its wake.
The other man was on him before he could recover, steel rang loud and clear from one blow, then another. The Hadryn slipped, defended another blow, then reversed with a surge of raw power—his attacker parried but lost balance from the sheer force, falling half in the water and losing his blade. But he was up before the Hadryn could finish him, grabbing the Hadryn's sword arm and grappling. Both men fell wrestling into the water, splashing and flailing, with grunting, frantic desperation.
Daryd clutched to Rysha, the two of them watching on the streambank in mesmerised horror as the two men tried to kill each other. The Hadryn seemed to be stronger and held the other man under