Before Thor could issue another command, Elden let out a battle cry and burst into action. He charged forward fearlessly, right for the mouth of the cave. Thor wondered what he was doing—it seemed like suicide—until he saw him lift his huge war hammer high overhead with both hands, and smash it into a boulder perched atop the entrance to the cave.
There came a great rumbling, and boulders rolled down and covered the mouth the cave, crushing several of the Forsyths and blocking the others.
They all looked to Elden with gratitude and pride.
“Nice work,” Thor said. “You saved our lives.”
Elden shrugged and slid the hammer back into his horse’s saddle.
Without waiting another moment, Thor draped Reece, now limp, over the back of his horse, and they all remounted and rode, intent on getting Reece help and on getting as far away from this place as possible.
*
Thor and his contingent rode into Sulpa at a gallop, their leisurely journey having now become a race against time. With each passing second Thor felt increasing panic for Reece, who rode with him on his horse, behind him, clutching onto Thor’s shoulders weakly. Thor prayed that it was not too late for his best friend, whose hands were now icy cold to the touch. He shook violently behind him, and Thor knew how toxic the venom must be, spreading through his system. He hoped with all he had that someone in this village had medicine to help him.
As they rode, the desert landscape gave way to a small oasis: they were back on rolling green hills, the sand giving way to fields of grass, and a well-paved road appeared which led them over a gurgling stream, across a small drawbridge, unmanned, and into a small village. It was surrounded by a stone wall, demolished in places by the McCloud raid, and the village, with its several dozen cottages, looked large enough to hold only a few hundred people. Thor could tell from here that most of the buildings had been damaged. The streets were filled with debris and even one or two houses were still smoking, smoldering slowly.
There was no sentry standing guard as they rode through the open gate, which was smashed off its hinges, and headed right into the town square. But this village was beautiful: in stark contrast to the wasteland around it, it had vibrant green grass, gurgling streams, beautiful fruit orchards. Sulpa was an idyllic oasis in the midst of a vast and unforgiving terrain. Thor was not that well-traveled, and he had no idea that places like this existed in the Ring.
As they charged into the town square, a dozen of the town’s elders hurried out to greet them, concern in their eyes. These were smart people, and they spotted Reece’s condition before Thor even stopped, before he even had to say anything. They fixed grave looks of concern on him, and seemed to immediately recognize what he was suffering from.
“How long ago was he bit?” one elder called out.
“Not ten minutes ago,” Thor responded.
“There might still be time. He must to the healer’s house, and quickly. Follow us.”
The elders turned and ran through the narrow streets, and Thor and the others rode after them. The village was small, and after a few blocks the men came to a stop before a small cottage built of an ancient stone, with an arched door. The elders slammed the knocker as Thor dismounted, carrying Reece in his arms. Reece was completely limp, and Thor could not believe how sick he had become so quickly.
The door opened, and a beautiful young girl, maybe sixteen, stood in the doorway, wearing a flowing white robe, with straight black hair and sparkling blue eyes. Her eyes immediately fell to Reece and flashed with concern; she ran to him without saying a word.
She reached up, lay a palm upon his forehead, scanned his body, and saw the bite festering on his arm.
“Inside!” she said urgently.
She turned and hurried back inside, and Thor raced after her, carrying Reece. Behind him, the other Legion members took positions outside the door, the house too small to fit them all.
“Set him down there!” she ordered, frantic, gesturing to a stack of hay in the corner of the room. Thor hurried and set Reece down, and as soon as he did, the girl crossed the room with a sharp knife.
“Hold his arms!” she commanded, great authority in her voice, an authority that surprised him. “Grab his wrists!” she