Ril gathered his possessions, he would have thought they would be meager but as he to stock of that he had he was a bit taken a back little.

  He packed everything away and was making a list look around his room when he began silently to berate himself for being silly and yes a bit cowardly. “I have talked myself in to a panic.” He laid his hand on the small bag that hung around his neck and thought to him self.

  Then he heard something, far away but coming closer, Ril pushed the shutters of his attic room open a crack and what he saw chilled him to the bone. A large group of riders galloped past the Village gates, armor, swords and tack making tinkling and jingling sounds mixed with the grunting breaths of both animals and men. No word were spoke as they passed. Ril nearly passed out he was sure that one of them had look straight at him, his eyes burning right through his brain. Surly that was an inquisitor. Ril held his breath as he backed slowly away from the window.

  There was nothing else to do Ril took up his chanceries bag and Martebo sack and put on his belt. He made sure the small hatchet was tied in it sheath and his knife was next to it, He had food his pack and put the strap of his water bottle over his shoulder. The he put his travel cloak and hood on. The were no second thoughts no equivocating. He was on a mission like a knights quest to told hims self. He saw his shadow in the half light and thought that even his shadow look bigger taller and then Ril stepped out in to the rear court of the shop and right on to a seaming pile of dog crap.

  Cursing silently under his breath he tried to scrape the dog crap off his shoe and succeeded but also in doing so he knocked over a bucket and a pan startling a stray cat who “Roowaled” it's displeasure as it ran away.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Ril stood still in anger and mortification, waiting, listening. His face if any had seen it would have seen the bright red of it. Still he waited no other sounds were heard. Ril as quietly as he could left the back area of the shop and headed to the drainage tunnel at the west of the village. It was an open secret that you could push one of the iron straps of the storm portcullis out of the way (had lost or had been filed off, all but one of it's rivets) making a hole wide enough to slip through when pushed to one side. Ril was down and out in no time at all. He oriented him self and headed south east meaning to go the Larch a much larger village easy three to four tine as long as his small village.

  His journey was easy over open grass land and pasture. He stayed off the road and walked behind the low berms and bushes to it side. Ril would walk counting 50 steps then stopped and listened and looked around. He had head a hunter in the village square talk about stalking and being stalked by wild animals telling tails of his adventures. Soon he would cross over and take to the road as he would soon be at the Larchen woods. He would try to stay to one side of the road so if anything appeared he could quickly hide in the woods.

  Ril know there were no wolves or wild bears around here and he would have a safe walk through the woods. That was until he head the baying of of hounds. The sounds seemed to be coming from the North East.

  “Dam and Blast.” he said surprising himself with a new found ability at blaspheming. He railed to him self “Riders, Inquisitors and now a pack of hounds” --- This was no time to contemplate his bad luck. He told himself. He must go but where? The dogs would over take him if took to the road or wood in the direction of Larch. The Pack were no coming form the direction of his village so they may not have his sent. He could head west through the rolling grass lands of undulating low foothills and bluffs leading to patches of open meadows and sparse trees and further to the west the Kings Highway.

  The Knight of Larches hounds had again gotten out. Lead by a rather dim witted mutt of a dog named Dug.

  Dug had woken from a dream where he had been chasing a rather tasty looking squirrel when snorted loudly. H managed to wake himself up and shout the doggy equivalent of “SQURRILS”. This of coerce was echoed by another dog “SQURRILS??????” Then all of them were out of the kennel over and under the fence like shots from a bow. Barking and Baying the questions over and over South Easterly direction. “SQURRILS”. “SQURRILS??????”. “SQURRILS”. “SQURRILS??????”. “SQURRILS”. “SQURRILS??????”. “SQURRILS”. “SQURRILS??????”. With a few 'Awooooo's” and “WW Whoffff's” thrown for context.

  They will trudge home come day light sore pawed and covered with brambles, stickers and thorns. Fully satisfied that once again the “SQURRILS” had been soundly defeated even tho not one of the pack had gotten with in 20 feet of a single “SQURRIL”.