After a seemingly long
time of trodding through the mud and keeping his travelling bag high up and
dry, torchlight remerged from around a bend. His heart leapt at the sight. He
sped up with renewed energy and approached the incoming riders.
The moment he came
into their sight, they reined their horses and looked closely at the man. It
was not a big surprise – soaked and mud-covered, confusing him with a monster
of sorts was really easy – but the men took no rash action.
Instead they called
out: ‘Hey, you there! Are you alright?’
‘No! But I’m alive!’,
he replied. The horsemen came closer.
There were two of
them, and they led the man’s horse in tow. They had to be guards of the nearby
city – his current destination. Clad in light-green livery representing the
city’s colour and with swords at their belts, they were probably on night watch
when the riderless horse came crashing at the gate.
‘We set out the moment
we saw that horse coming. Is it yours?’, the guard with long, blond hair asked.
‘Yes it is. It got
spooked by....’.
The man stopped
suddenly. Would anyone believe him if he said he was attacked by the undead?
Probably not. ‘I don’t know. Something. Damn thing threw me off and ran away.’.
He told them half the truth, at least.
‘Well, that bastard is
yours, anyway’, the other guard handed him the reins. ‘The city is just ahead.
Come.’
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