The letter had been clear. He and Sledge had found it in the abandoned warehouse the Mantle moles had vacated just hours before. Cris could still see it in his minds eye as he rode at a dead run into the forests in eastern Kessex.EnglhardtMove the goods and abandon the nest. The Blade have taken the bait and are on their way. Trap is set. Rendezvous at target location, Kessex forest.Harrigan A scrap of a map had been included, and had matched the general region where Mouna Kazmi and their team commander, Exemplar Marten Post were supposed to be following a lead to locate the hideout for the Mantle smuggling operation they’d been trying to break open.And it had all been a trap, and they’d walked right into it. Sledge had stayed behind to secure the warehouse and locate additional clues, while Cris had immediately taken off to warn the other half of their team that it was a set up.He’d ridden hard, not stopping over the last two days, and changed horses at the Godslost Haven. He had to hurry. Had to get there before it was too late.Night was coming fast, as he reigned in his lathered, panting horse. He should only be a few hundred yards from where it was supposed to happen, the rocky hill outlined against the fading light.He dismounted and shadow formed, zipping along through the brush as an inky cloud of shadow, searching desperately. As he got closer, he heard muffled cries, and the first clashes of steel on steel. He was too late.He veered towards the sounds of battle, and resumed his solid form as he leaped into the fray, skewering a cloaked and cowled Mantle ambusher before even taking stock of the situation.Torches cast ominous, wavering shadows, making the motions of the people jerky like those of an image on a mobile. Three other Mantle were down, but a dozen were still on their feet. His commander, Marten, was surrounded, and Mouna was being hard pressed by the men she was engaged with.“Marten!” she cried desperately“Get out of here, Mouna! That’s an order!” Marten barked as he cleaved off the arm of one of his attackers, a masterful whirlwind of sword and dagger that kept them at bay.“No! I won’t leave you!” And then she screamed as one of her enemies struck low as she parried another’s sword. The blade sheered into her leg, ripping through muscle and tendons, almost taking the leg off, and she fell, blood spurting everywhere and her screams dominated the battle.Cris roared and surged into motion, shadowstepping forward to save Mouna from a fatal finishing blow. He slashed the man’s throat that had felled his comrade and secret love, then ran the next man through.The third Mantle to try and rush in as Cris stood protectively over Mouna was met with a vicious snarl and an acrobatic kick followed by another shadowstep that plunged his sword through the man’s chest to the hilt.“Fall back! Capture the Exemplar!”“Cristian! Get Mou out of here!” Marten bellowed even as he was swarmed under in a sudden rush, his concentration having been broken by Mouna’s screams, although he felled one more Mantle before they disarmed him and beat him half senseless while hurrying to their horses.And that dread indecision took hold of Cris for a moment. If he chased them down, and saved Marten, Mouna would very likely die of her grievous wound, or be finished off by any unseen lookouts that doubled back. But if he stayed and protected her, they’d get away with his commander, his friend, and Mouna’s fiancee. He took a couple steps towards Marten as he bunched himself to attack.“Save Mou!” Marten bellowed again, and for a moment the grizzled Exemplar’s eyes met his protege’s. There was a calmness in them, an acceptance and a certainty that stopped Cris in his tracks.That pause was all the Mantle needed to haul Marten into a saddle and escape with his commander. The leader, the man known as Harrigan, glanced back once at Cris in apprehension and fear, but the white haired Blade standing there protectively over his comrade made the Mantle sneer as they escaped into the night.Cris ground his teeth, face contorting in rage. Save Mou. Those words echoed in his mind and made him set aside his anger for now. he hurried to her side, the Elonian woman passed out from shock and blood loss. Cris grimaced at the damage to her leg, and hurriedly pulled a first aid trauma kit from inside his coat. A painkiller was injected, and he brought out the metal spiked clamps that had an earth enchantment on them. Grimly he pressed as much of Mou’s leg back together as he could, then set the clamps and triggered the enchantment. The spikes bit into Mou’s flesh, and seized up like jaws to pull the flesh into place and keep the leg intact. Mou screamed once then passed out again.He took his fire starter out, and used the enchanted rod to heat the tip of his dagger so he could use the hot metal to cauterize where her flesh was still bleeding to slow it down, then bound it all and applied a tourniquet high on her thigh. Once she was as stable as he could make her, he hauled her up onto his shoulder with a grunt, her head and arms dangling down his back as he moved as quickly as he could to find his horse and get her to safety.As he carried her limp form through the dark, his violet eyes blazed with anguish and a cold fury. Then and there he vowed to find his missing commander. And if they killed him before Cris could save him, he vowed vengeance beyond the line of duty. He would hunt them down. Every single survivor that had been there and taken Marten away. He would find out who they were and then he would hunt them down, one by one, and make them regret this night. No matter how far they ran or how long it took, he would find them all.With vengeance and worry for Mou’s life on his mind, and self loathing for being too slow gnawing at his heart, he faded into the brush.
