They raced, as fast and Monk could gallop, away from the western edge of the forest. The stench and the growling, turning Sybri's blood to ice water from the fear. Her mousy dun gelding, knew the wood as well as his rider, but his instinct was just to get as far away from their pursuers, as quickly as possible.
Sybri folded her body close to the horse while lifting herself out of the saddle. By using only the strength of her calves and the stirrups to balance herself, she put herself over the little horse's centre of gravity, making a full gallop possible. The terrified woman turned her head to look back and for a moment, believing they had outrun the orc and half orc they stumbled into while checking traps on the far side of the forest.
She didn't see the rider-high branch until almost crashing full force in to it, the only choice was to side off the side of the horse to the ground. Monk never broke stride as she looked up, seeing him turn then disappear behind a thick trunk. Before she scrambled upright, the hideous orc grabbed her ankles with a roar of victory.
Sybri dug her gloved fingers into the weeds and soil, letting out a blood curdling scream, fearful tears covering her face as she realised the orc had her in its grasp. The young woman held on fast until, at last, she was pulled so powerfully her gloves slid up to her palms. Clinging desperately for her life, the heels of her hands were being skinned then gashed from the forceful friction and thorn covered weeds.
Suddenly, she saw a blur of pale brown charging directly toward the orc gripping Sybri's ankles. Making a sharp turn on his rear quarter, the horse planted his front hooves then mule kicked the startled orc with all his heart, sending it flying backward, briefly. It was just enough time, however, for the hunter to spring to her feet, ready to sprint deeper into the forest, until she saw that the half orc had grabbed Monk's reins.
Drawing her spear and sword, heaving a quick sigh of capitulation, she squeezed her bloody hands tightly around her weapons then dashed, silently, toward her horse. She couldn't leave the last living memory of her father behind to become orc fodder. The same orc that had been dragging her just a few moments ago, had a rusted axe raised high, aiming for the terrified horses neck. Sybri screamed dolefully, knowing what was about to happen.
With deadly silence, two arrows found the hearts of the offenders, dropping them where they stood. Standing dumbfounded, distrusting her own eyes Sybri stopped in her tracks, until her horse trotted over to her, nudging her back into full awareness. Immediately, Bri dropped to the ground to take cover, when a lone figured stepped out of the shade into a bright spot under the canopy of leaves. Dressed in dusty brown and smoky green, the deeply hooded man tipped his head to the still frightened girl, then firmly placed one finger over his lips, gave her a quick salute then disappeared back into the cover of the forest.
Not waiting there to evaluate what had just happened, Sybri ran over to the dead orc, pushed it over enough with her foot to retrieve the arrow. Whistling for Monk, he trotted over to her. Without stopping the horse, she swung herself back into the saddle and with haste, left the forest. She knew, because of Darren, that archers often fletch distinctive arrows. The young hunter owed her life to that archer and would keep the incident quiet, as he wished, but she would never forget what happened.
Monk was getting extra carrots and an apple with his oats that evening. The secret the woman and horse shared would be kept, at least for now.
