Read Online The Trees And The Night (Book 3) by Daniel McHugh - Free Book Online

whispered the boy to Ader.
     
    Hnarg’s mind raced. Could he salvage anything from this encounter? He was so close. Certainly all in his pack would die, but they might yet reach the old man and kill him first. The Seraph rode a mere twenty yards from his lead runners. If somehow Hnarg escaped and returned with news of the Seraph’s death, he might yet find absolution in the eyes of the Malveel.
    The priest frantically glanced to the ledge above the ravine. The horsemen obviously shadowed the pack but did not yet show themselves. The Eru executed a plan, and Hnarg’s Hackles played into it.
    “Perhaps,” thought Hnarg, “if I cannot see them, they will not see me.”
    The priest dropped ten yards behind the last trailing Hackle and slowed.
    “He who wins the head of the Seraph will be made a priest,” roared Hnarg.
    The pack howled in crazed excitement, lunging toward the faltering mounts of their quarry. Hnarg stopped and dove for the shadows of the ledge’s overhang. The pack raced around a bend in the riverbed, only steps from the old man. Hnarg gripped the wall of the ravine in the darkness and remained motionless. The pounding of hooves on the ledge above continued past his location and quickly faded.
     
    Ader turned in surprise to Kael’s comment. A question remained in the Seraph’s eyes, but Kael put it to rest with the nod of his head. Tarader staggered and nearly fell. The Seraph stroked the animal’s neck.
    “Just a bit longer, my old friend,” said Ader softly. “Hold out for a moment longer. Salvation is at hand.”
    Eidyn’s stallion trailed the big gray by mere feet. Fear increased the animal’s speed, but the pack matched it with the frenzy of the kill. The Elf prince drew shafts from the quiver slung over his back and sent them whistling into the pack just a few feet behind him. A large Hackle locked its stony claws onto the white stallion’s rump and the animal whinnied in fear as the Hackle tore into its flesh. Eidyn rapidly fixed another shaft to his bow, rose lightly in his seat and released the bolt inches from the Ulrog’s face. The arrow hammered into the stony head of the Hackle, ripping it from its feet and slamming it onto the dry river’s bed.
     Blood poured from the stallion’s wound and the animal faltered as the trailing Ulrog closed in, howling in fury. Suddenly, a louder cry drowned out the howl of the Ulrog and a thick handled spear whistled past Eidyn’s position. The spear slammed into the chest of the nearest Ulrog. The force knocked the beast backward and thick, black blood poured from around the spear’s shaft. The remaining Ulrog quickly shoved the body to the side and rushed forward oblivious to all but the need to kill the Seraph.
    Eidyn bounced along stunned for only a moment then resumed his barrage of arrows at a feverish pace. The pounding of horse’s hooves surrounded him and in brief glimpses he saw men on horseback spill over the rim of the ravine.
    The Eru found them.
     
    Hnarg stood motionless in the darkness of the ravine. The sounds of the chase faded. His Hackles howled in triumph. They obviously engaged the Seraph and his Elven archers. The kill would be quick, but what of the horsemen? He felt sure his pack would be eliminated shortly. The howls of triumph were cut short and replaced with screams of fury and the battle cry of the Ulrog. Had his Hackles been given enough time to dispose of the old man?
     
    Horse and rider sped down the sides of the ravine slamming into the Ulrog pack. Spear and blade glinted in the moonlight as they were brought down upon the Hackles. Cleavers slashed and claws raked, but they were no match for the overwhelming force of the Eru horsemen.
    The Ulrog were trapped. Eru spear and blade found their mark and within moments the remainder of the Vendi packs lay motionless beneath the hooves of one hundred Eru cavalry.
     
    Hnarg lay frozen against the side of the ravine. With each passing moment the howls of the Hackles