Immediately she could tell that the correct signal had been given. For a brief moment, the girl marvelled at how responsive the horse was. She suspected that any normal horse would need a much bigger prompt that what she had just given. She felt the horses muscles release their tension, even through the thick leather yvas she was seated on. She suddenly realized just how powerful this creature was. She jolted forwards, unused to the sudden surge of speed, and her grip tightened as she willed herself to stay on the horses back. Laria was thankful that the women moved, for she had no intention of letting anyone else get hurt. Though she had a feeling that the Strider wouldn’t either. As the horse sped up an irrational wave of panic hit her. Things usually slowed before impact, but not this time. She jerked forward again as they slammed into the man, and she heard the unmistakeable crunch of bone. The horse continued for perhaps a pace before it turned back and stopped. Eyes wide, the girl stared at the crumpled figure on the ground. She met his gaze, his eyes full of hatred. She paused, waiting for the recognition to hit him. And when it did, she watched as he scrambled backward. But what she wasn’t expecting was three members of the watch to appear. She looked down at the horse, still standing strong, bold as anything, and then over to the man, now whining to the others. In one swift move, Laria dismounted and led the mare to them. The man wearing the Topaz colours had asked her a question, and she would answer it honestly. Not like the grovelling man on the floor. “What happened, Sir, was the Strider here just trampled this man.” There was no point in lying about it. There had even been witnesses. But she would not end there. “I do believe that the Strider had reason though. This horse is not mine. It led me to this man before it ran him down. I think that it belongs to a woman, now fighting for her life in a tent of the Opal clan.” She paused then, looking over for the man’s reaction. “I doubt actually, if she is still alive right now. This blood,” she motioned to her clothing, which was still covered in the crimson stuff. “is hers. The horse and I carried her to the healers after I found her in her torn up tent. I followed a bloody trail left by him.” She pointed venomously at the greasy-haired individual. “And that knife there,” again she pointed, this time at the bloodied knife he had dropped. “Is his.” She was silent after that. She was right, and the man knew it. She could ask the healer to verify it, she could even show them the ruined and bloody tent. In fact, Laria had not laid a hand on the man. She had been riding the Strider, that much was true, but it was not hers, and Striders never obey strangers. |