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.
"We've been riding for six bells," Greywing complained, "my leg hurts."
"Would you pipe down about your wretched scrape already," Sparrow hissed, "some of us have real problems," she whispered as she looked over her left shoulder at Dravite who looked as if he were suffering from heatstroke, slumped forward on his horse with his long tendrils of matted hair curtaining his face.
Bayon slowed up and rode alongside the man butting him with the back of his hand gently, "you all right, son?"
Dravite lifted his head, righting himself on the stallion's back, "how far are we from camp?"
"Two bells, maybe three at this pace; we'll set up for the night and from there its half a day's ride to Endrykas."
The horse lord sucked a ragged breath through gritted teeth and nodded, "can we talk once we make camp?"
"Of course," Bayon agreed, "chin up; you're starting to worry my newest recruit."
Dravite looked ahead at Greywing and laughed, "You mean he finally got over his scratch?"
Bayon threw his head back in a hearty laugh, "no I think we'll all be hearing about that one for a long time to come.
As Bayon galloped ahead to join Helena, Dravite did his best to keep up, enduring the pain that radiated across his pelvis and had slowly crept up throughout the ride into his sides. A few more chimes into the ride and he was forced to stop for water, taking it from the leather skin before dismounting slowly. Sparrow turned back to check on him, "I'm fine, cousin," Dravite even managed to smile.
Sparrow waved and re-joined the group while Dravite struggled to get back onto his Strider. He threaded his fingers through the loop of the yvas and used the strength in his arms to pull himself up; a process he had to repeat three of four times before he was finally successful. Cree, far too spirited as normal, raced ahead to catch up with the team, jostling his rider about, "Ah, ah, ah!" Dravite growled but the stallion didn't slow until he was one with the herd again.
The man's vision became blurry and as he looked around blinking in an attempt to see where they were, his body gave into exhaustion and he fell from his horse. A couple of the new recruits looked back to see where the 'thump' sound had come from and noticed Cree dart aside as if something had scared the horse. "Bayon!" Sparrow screamed and leapt from her mare to run to Dravite's side with Bayon not far behind; he had been there when Pearl's husband was bitten by a snake, he wasn't about to let the second leave this life so easily.
"Helena!" The man called, "send your fastest rider to Endrykas for a doctor!"
"What's happened?" Helena called.
"Now!" Bayon demanded and within four ticks two riders broke away from the group to race home to the city of tents.
"He's burning up," Sparrow cried, brushing away a stray tear from her cheek while her other hand lay against the horse lord's temple.
Dravite’s heart was racing; he was wet with sweat and barely conscious. "Blackwater, try and stay awake," Bayon ordered.
The half-dead man opened his eyes to blink at Bayon before the world went dark, his parting words, "tell my son I..."
In the web there was no pain and the heavy burden of his woes were lifted. Dravite often fled to the web as a boy when he was injured or suffering from toothache. He watched from his home among the glowing, interwoven strands of djed as The Watch discovered his infected Zith bite that had gone septic even for all the care he had taken with it, and lifted up his limp body to put him on a horse. Moving a Webbers body while the Web-Mage was still inside the web was a dangerous business, but Dravite had a feeling he had worn that old skin for the last time. When he tried to return to his form, he found it difficult to wake and decided his best hope of sending any kind of message home before the riders got to Endrykas was to do it himself.
It took great concentration and a few chimes of meditation to connect with one of the Webbers in Endrykas. "Two riders from The Watch require urgent assistance," Dravite informed the woman listening on the other end.
"Who should we send?" She asked.
"A doctor or healer if there is one handy."
"Who is the injured party?" The woman inquired.
"Dra-" the man tried to tell her but lost his line of call, someone, or perhaps something had run through the main line, weakening the direct point of contact he had drawn with home.
When Dravite tried to establish another line of communication, that failed too; perhaps, he thought, I am too far from my own body. Perhaps his form had finally given up the ghost. "Am I dead?" Dravite asked the wind, but there came no reply.
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.
.
.
61 Summer, 515 AV
10th Bell, Morning
The Sea of Grass
10th Bell, Morning
The Sea of Grass
"We've been riding for six bells," Greywing complained, "my leg hurts."
"Would you pipe down about your wretched scrape already," Sparrow hissed, "some of us have real problems," she whispered as she looked over her left shoulder at Dravite who looked as if he were suffering from heatstroke, slumped forward on his horse with his long tendrils of matted hair curtaining his face.
Bayon slowed up and rode alongside the man butting him with the back of his hand gently, "you all right, son?"
Dravite lifted his head, righting himself on the stallion's back, "how far are we from camp?"
"Two bells, maybe three at this pace; we'll set up for the night and from there its half a day's ride to Endrykas."
The horse lord sucked a ragged breath through gritted teeth and nodded, "can we talk once we make camp?"
"Of course," Bayon agreed, "chin up; you're starting to worry my newest recruit."
Dravite looked ahead at Greywing and laughed, "You mean he finally got over his scratch?"
Bayon threw his head back in a hearty laugh, "no I think we'll all be hearing about that one for a long time to come.
As Bayon galloped ahead to join Helena, Dravite did his best to keep up, enduring the pain that radiated across his pelvis and had slowly crept up throughout the ride into his sides. A few more chimes into the ride and he was forced to stop for water, taking it from the leather skin before dismounting slowly. Sparrow turned back to check on him, "I'm fine, cousin," Dravite even managed to smile.
Sparrow waved and re-joined the group while Dravite struggled to get back onto his Strider. He threaded his fingers through the loop of the yvas and used the strength in his arms to pull himself up; a process he had to repeat three of four times before he was finally successful. Cree, far too spirited as normal, raced ahead to catch up with the team, jostling his rider about, "Ah, ah, ah!" Dravite growled but the stallion didn't slow until he was one with the herd again.
The man's vision became blurry and as he looked around blinking in an attempt to see where they were, his body gave into exhaustion and he fell from his horse. A couple of the new recruits looked back to see where the 'thump' sound had come from and noticed Cree dart aside as if something had scared the horse. "Bayon!" Sparrow screamed and leapt from her mare to run to Dravite's side with Bayon not far behind; he had been there when Pearl's husband was bitten by a snake, he wasn't about to let the second leave this life so easily.
"Helena!" The man called, "send your fastest rider to Endrykas for a doctor!"
"What's happened?" Helena called.
"Now!" Bayon demanded and within four ticks two riders broke away from the group to race home to the city of tents.
"He's burning up," Sparrow cried, brushing away a stray tear from her cheek while her other hand lay against the horse lord's temple.
Dravite’s heart was racing; he was wet with sweat and barely conscious. "Blackwater, try and stay awake," Bayon ordered.
The half-dead man opened his eyes to blink at Bayon before the world went dark, his parting words, "tell my son I..."
In the web there was no pain and the heavy burden of his woes were lifted. Dravite often fled to the web as a boy when he was injured or suffering from toothache. He watched from his home among the glowing, interwoven strands of djed as The Watch discovered his infected Zith bite that had gone septic even for all the care he had taken with it, and lifted up his limp body to put him on a horse. Moving a Webbers body while the Web-Mage was still inside the web was a dangerous business, but Dravite had a feeling he had worn that old skin for the last time. When he tried to return to his form, he found it difficult to wake and decided his best hope of sending any kind of message home before the riders got to Endrykas was to do it himself.
It took great concentration and a few chimes of meditation to connect with one of the Webbers in Endrykas. "Two riders from The Watch require urgent assistance," Dravite informed the woman listening on the other end.
"Who should we send?" She asked.
"A doctor or healer if there is one handy."
"Who is the injured party?" The woman inquired.
"Dra-" the man tried to tell her but lost his line of call, someone, or perhaps something had run through the main line, weakening the direct point of contact he had drawn with home.
When Dravite tried to establish another line of communication, that failed too; perhaps, he thought, I am too far from my own body. Perhaps his form had finally given up the ghost. "Am I dead?" Dravite asked the wind, but there came no reply.
.
.
.