Hunters - Highlander Pass. Chp 5

Highlander Pass

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Brian saw the two horses with their cloaked riders approaching from miles away. The observer was dressed in grey Highlander garb. His muscled chest broke through the fur draped over his left shoulder. His short axe was tied around a leather belt at his waist. Snow was spread throughout his greying hair.

These mountains were cold but he was immune to it, as he had lived here his entire life. He knew of the Hunters and had seen many in his life. They had tramped through his land and destroyed his ancestral home. Brian had killed many. These two would be no different. However, his Master would want them for his own.

Now was not the time to disobey his Master who had been sent from the gods. Brian was to witness their progress and return home. His Master would be most displeased if they met a premature death. Gathering his camping gear and flinging it over his back, Brian stalked through the shallow snow returning home.

Looking back over the cliff, the Hunters carried on up the treacherous mountain path. Their horses navigated the rocky outcrops that so many men had perished. The lead Hunter methodically searched for any sign of danger and his eyes swept over the lip of the cliff that Brian now dropped behind. The older Hunter dropping the reins of his horse and dropped to the ground drawing his crossbow.

Brian had been spotted and he now turned and ran up the mountain further. His axe had given away his position, glinting in the sun. The men behind him where slower and did not have the advantage of the mountain terrain that he did. The younger man still on his horse was gaining rapidly his crossbow jerking in time with the horses hoof beats.

The strings on the crossbow slackened and the silver bolt raced towards Brian. He ducked to the left but not in time. The bolt tore through his naked right shoulder, biting flesh and shattering his shoulder blade. He grunted in pain continuing his dive behind the rocky outcrop.

Brian drew his axe and waited for the hoof beats to get closer. Listening, Brian’s ears only found silence. Suddenly behind him the snow began to crumble. The old man was sneaking up on him with his sword ready to behead Brian. Grabbing a handful of snow, Brian threw it towards the greybeard. While not being as agitating as sand, snow still blocked his vision for several vital seconds.

Now the younger Hunter was upon him leaping over the outcrop, his sword swinging in a silver ribbon. Brian lifted his axe and cut down on the sword as it skimmed over his exposed chest. The Hunter swore as his blade broke in half, drawing a dagger almost as soon as he had lost his sword.
It was suicide pitting a dagger against an axe in any normal situation, but the Hunter appeared desperate. He lunged with the dagger and Brian could avoid the jabbing blows. The old man was now on his feet again warily avoiding the axe. Brian swung backwards with the pommel and struck the man between the eyes.

He dropped like a stone. Brian now advanced on his dagger-wielding comrade the axe swinging in figures eights around him. This man would not give up; Brian had to look for another option. There! In the man's saddle was a baby, tied to it. Brian was not usually a coward however this time was different. Throwing his axe at the young Hunter forcing him to evade it, Brian charged towards the steed and snatched the child out of the saddlebag.

The dagger in his boot was ripped out of its sheath and kissed the baby's throat. Brian slowly ascended the mountain with the child held close to his body. Brian heard a snapping sound and a split second later a second crossbow bolt penetrated his flesh next to the first. He dropped the baby as he cried out in pain, but continued to run up the mountain towards his home. His mission was a success. Now all he had to do was wait until they bowed before his Master.

Barros watched the Highlander escape. The huge man seemed to meld with the mountain and become visible again. 'Let him escape', Barros thought. 'We'll get to him later'.

Scooping up Abner in his arms, Barros returned to were Piero lay stunned. Splashing water over his face, Piero suddenly awoke and almost hit Barros in the face.

'Oh it's only you', he said.

'Nice to see you to', replied Barros. 'Our Highlander escaped, probably gone back to his camp. He tried to take Abner but I shot him again'.

'Shouldn't have done that', said Piero sitting up on a rock. 'Now they'll know we are hostile to them, if we couldn't defeat one Highlander how are we meant to defeat a whole town full?'

'Still working on that, but two good things have come out of this'.

Piero raised his eyebrows waiting for Barros to continue. He obliged.

'Firstly, Abner is back and safe. Secondly, the big fella left us some tracks to follow. Moreover, a blood trail'.

'That’s great for us, but again you’ve missed the problem we are now facing', said Piero gesturing up the hill.

Turning Barros stared were Piero was. Red and black banners fluttered in the wind, the men holding them almost as large. At the head stood one, with a black helmet held at his side. He was clad in greying armour with the look it had been used many times.

'This is going to be fun. Think it'd be quicker just to surrender', said Barros.

The army surged forward, hell bent on destroying the two Hunters that had injured their scout. None of the Highlanders rode horses; their bulk would kill any horse they rode. However, the Hunter horses may provide suitable mounts.

'Protect Abner at all costs', said Barros tightening his grip on his son. 'If he dies, we lose. The living deceased will overrun all of Taagras, we can't allow it'.

Brian ran next to his Master. The town's shaman, who held the power of the spirit world had removed the crossbow bolts from his shoulder and healed the skin. The muscle underneath still ached but Brian could fight with his left arm as well as his right.

The capture order still stood, and anyone that disobeyed would be instantly bought before the Master. Slowing down so other Highlanders could take the fight, first Brian shadowed his Master. His helmet was now on obscuring his face.

Piero and Barros stood their ground, swords at the ready while they fired off their crossbows. Since Rhorn their supply was greatly diminished however, the saddlebags still held numerous bolts. Highlanders charged their massive strides carrying them down the mountain fell by the dozen, returning no fire. Barros was the first to run out of bolts, just as the Highlanders leapt over the last bank. Drawing his sword, Barros instantly knew he was dead. The Highlanders huge bodies crashed against him, it felt like a house was falling upon him.

Bolts still whisked around him as Piero kept up a steady barrage. A Highlander slipped under Barros and made it to Piero who collapsed to the ground struck on the head by a blow from an axe pommel. Now Barros was alone fending off Highlanders from all angles. Suddenly the world blacked out.

When Barros awoke he had no idea how much time had passed. He awoke, but his eyes were covered in a black material that blotted out the world. It scratched his eyes, and he had to keep blinking. He was hog tied, probably carried between two Highlanders, moving uphill at a brisk jog.

Soon after he hit the ground, his mouth filing with the dirt and snow that the Highlanders thrived in. He spat it out and received a hard leather boot to his face. The heel smashed against his nose either fracturing it or breaking it, he couldn’t tell, however it allowed his blindfold to slide slightly off one eye.

He saw hardy feet scuffle away from him all towards a central area of what seemed to be the Highlanders village several hundred meters away. He and what who he assumed, was Piero, where tied to a wooden stake at the rear of the village. He had to act.
‘Piero’, he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. He received no boot or fist anywhere in his body, no guards must be near them.
‘Barros’, came Piero’s hoarse reply from somewhere behind him. ‘I’ve dealt with these kinds before; I know how to get out of this. Just give me a minute’.

Barros waited and several creaks of wood reached his ears. A dull thud followed shortly and the sawing of ropes. Piero had now freed himself of the ropes and was now crawling across the dirt to free Barros. Barros turned his head and saw Piero smothered in snow and dirt with a sharp rock in his left hand. He carried the baby Abner in his right. Piero reached Barros and set up on his knees using the rock to cut through the bonds.

After tense seconds, Barros fell free upon the sodden ground. He had no weapon, and either did Piero. What a terrible situation they were in. Time to remedy that. In a village full of bloodthirsty Highlanders there would surely be some weapons lying around. It was time to look.