by T Nisbet
It felt good to run the horses. We headed opposite the way we’d come from through another long tunnel created by the horseshoe shaped waterfall and up the narrow road at a gallop. I thought the canter was cool, but galloping was insane.
It was close to the feeling you get riding a motorcycle from a speed standpoint, but on a motorcycle you don’t get the feeling of an animal’s muscles straining and pushing beneath you or hear their forceful breath as their lungs struggle to meet the demands of exerting that kind of energy. You don’t feel like your sharing an experience with another living creature on a motorcycle.
Gill and I ran the horses until the roar of the falls had disappeared in the distance. We were laughing aloud before the end of our race. Eventually we slowed down and started walking the lathered up horses.
“Normally you don’t run horses up an incline without warming them up first, but its okay once in a great while or if need presses you,” said Gill, breathing heavily.
I was catching my breath too. I didn’t know riding was an aerobic activity, but it certainly was.
“We’ll wait for the others at the top of the pass. String your bow, just in case we run into any Blood Elf scouts, though it should be too early for that.”
I cursed myself as I suddenly remembered what Thallium’s essence had told me yesterday. I should have told Gill about it before we left so he could have sent a messenger warning Captain Marchon that the Blood Elves had moved up their timetable.
“Gill, I blew it!” I said shaking my head.
Gill looked at me curiously, not understanding. “What did you blow, a horn of some kind? I heard nothing!”
“No, it’s an expression for screwing up.”
“You two will work it out...”
“No, not that! I learned last night that the Blood Elves have moved up their attack. It’s not coming in thirty days, but in less than two weeks. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you before we left. I’m sorry,” I said, looking down at the saddle horn. “I was angry and not thinking clearly.”
“Fourteen days?” Gill said stopping his horse. “How…”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you how I found out about it, I just did. You have to trust me on this,” I pleaded.
Gill looked perplexed, but nodded, turning his horse.
“I’ll ride back to the inn and make sure a messenger is sent to Captain Marchon. This changes things a quite a bit Jake; the dark elves will almost certainly have scouts in the pass or close to it, possibly even a war party. This is the only pass leading into Cenaria big enough for an army to move through with any speed. The dark elves will want it secured.
“You’ll need to scout ahead to the top of the pass. There is a post maintained by the inn there, but I wouldn’t rely on them. Blood elves could have passed by without their knowledge, or even overrun the post without word reaching the Inn.
“Dark elves have exceptional sight and hearing, so be careful, Jake. Shoot first; ask questions later. We have to get through this pass before it becomes closed to us.”
“I’m confused Gill, I thought Brighton was part of Cenaria. If these mountains are the border then…”
“Brighton is a part of Ceneria,” Gill interrupted talking quickly. “These mountains are part of a massive, nearly impassable mountain range that protects Ceneria’s interior, but they are not the border. Brighton sits on Ceneria’s southern border three days ride from the Inn across the plains.”
“If there are blood elves in the pass, then have they attacked Brighton already?”
“Brighton is technically a Cenerian city, but in truth it is considered a part of the kingdoms of: Thunderhome, Kris’Stin, Alissia, the Blood Elf kingdom of Mozgul, as well as Ceneria. They will go around it if they don’t wish to start a war with the other kingdoms as well.”
“Will the other kingdoms come to Ceneria’s aid?”
“They haven’t in the past, but if Brighton was attacked they would. Pray that the dark elves are so foolish,” he sighed his expression grim. “Wait for us at the guard post if possible.”
I nodded, and he turned his mount and took off.
