The Bone House - By Stephen R. Lawhead Page 0,98

the pole in one smooth motion, even as Giles ducked under the rising end. The flummoxed gatekeeper gave out a startled cry, but they were already past.

Three running steps carried them under the arch, three more and they were through the gate and out of the city. The gate man was shouting at them to halt, adding his voice to the shouts of the pursuers who had now reached the gatehouse. Twilight was settling quickly on the land, but the sky was still light; Kit caught a glimmer of water.

“The river is this way!” shouted Kit. “We’ll try to lose them as we go.”

Even before the words were out of his mouth, he heard another sound: the rhythmic clatter of steel horseshoes on stone paving. He looked back to see a dark figure in the saddle of a pale grey horse. One glimpse of the rider and he knew that Burleigh was in the chase, hurtling down through the streets, scattering the crowd that was now pouring through the gate.

The road before them was a broad curve around a long bend in the river, city walls on one side and riverbank on the other; there was no one on the road, and no place they might hide from the pursuit gathering pace behind them. According to Mina, the ley was a mile distant. “He’s got a horse,” called Kit. “We’ll never make it.”

“Keep running!” shouted Giles. “If we can reach the bend, we might elude them yet.”

Gritting his teeth, Kit raced on. The bend was farther than they estimated, and though they succeeded in gaining some distance on the mob, by the time they rounded the curve Burleigh was closer still and coming fast. Kit pulled up, lungs heaving, heart pounding. “It’s no good,” he gasped between breaths. “We’ll have to try to take him.”

Giles looked back, gauging the distance between themselves and the oncoming rider. “We must remove him from that horse.”

“Right,” agreed Kit. “How do we do that?”

“I know horses.” The sound of the hooves pounding towards them grew louder. “There are ways to throw a rider.”

The shouts of the chase echoed over the water, coursing along the riverbanks. Kit suddenly understood what it was like to be the fox desperate to avoid the jaws of the baying hounds. “What about the mob?”

“Once we have taken the horse, we can use it to escape.”

“Sounds like a plan,” decided Kit. “What do we do?”

“There.” Giles pointed to a clump of elder bushes. “Hide yourself there, but make yourself ready to jump out as soon as I have the rider on the ground.”

“You sure you can handle it alone?”

Giles nodded.

With a last backwards glance, Kit darted into the brush as Giles snatched off a long leafy branch from the elder bush and took up a stance at the side of the road. Holding the branch down and slightly behind him, he stood easily, waiting as the horse thundered nearer.

Burleigh saw him and shouted something. Kit, watching from his hiding place, imagined he could feel the earth tremble as the pounding hooves swiftly narrowed the distance.

Giles, steady as a stone, remained firmly planted.

Heavy hooves churning, the horse thundered closer and closer still.

Kit’s breath caught in his throat as Burleigh swerved to ride down the unresisting Giles. But just as the hurtling beast closed on him, Giles stepped lightly sideways, swinging up the branch and throwing the leafy end into the animal’s face. Its vision obscured by a tree that seemed to appear from nowhere, the horse shied and tossed its head high to avoid the obstruction. Giles drove forward, keeping the branch in the frightened animal’s eyes.

The horse reared, and reared again.

Burleigh, unprepared for the attack, was thrown over the rear of his mount. He landed hard on his back in the middle of the road. Giles was on him in an instant.

Kit leapt from his hiding place and ran to help Giles subdue the struggling Burleigh. He saw Giles’ fist rise and fall—once . . . twice . . . and the writhing man lay still.

“Get the horse!” shouted Giles.

Kit hurried after the riderless animal that was now cantering away. It took a moment, but he finally managed to snag the dangling reins and pull the horse’s head around. “Gotcha!” Holding tight to the reins, he turned to see Giles running to join him.

Then, even as he watched, Giles seemed to levitate in the air, his feet lifting off the ground. In the same instant, the report of a distant

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