The tormented cries reached him, the considerate distance he had reached away from the palace proving to be insignificant to them. They spurred him on, faster than his tired legs could have managed before his need for rest forgotten in the wake of a greater need, survival. If they caught him given what he had spirited away he would suffer a fate worse than that of those he had left behind. He hadn't wanted to leave them, was tormented and would always be tormented by the fact that he had left. It had been necessary though, they had insisted and reason had advocated for them; how could it not when they had always seen to the heart of the truth? He ran with tears running down his cheeks, his soul bereaved as he imagined the pain they had endured, were still enduring, beautiful Anax, her honourable husband and innocent children, her parents, noble, compassionate and honest burning to death with all that had served them except for him. He had known his duty and that duty gave innumerable speed. The forest loomed nearer, his refuge from the ravishing marauders that had overtaken Luzon. From there the danger of being spotted was minimal, almost non-existant, and if he reached it before these babarians had sated their need for distruction he would be safe.
Another yard and he would be safe.
A few more feet.
He was almost...
The hoofbeats were unmistakable, he had been seen and his pursures were close! Panic filled him, long silent screams resounding in him as all the horrific tales he had ever heard came to him in overwhelming clarity.
He stumbled, a hand instinctively reaching out to break his fall, the other holding on to the bundle he carried. Quickly he scrambled up and stumbled the last steps to the forest, the denizen of all superstition and lore. Few dared to enter it and those who had had only done so at the greatest of need as he now was. He lacked the courage to enter and yet he must, his homeland fears were better than the fear that rode behind him with deadly inhuman intent. The unknown that was the forest was shelter, surely its denizen could not be as ruthless as the babarians.
The foliage was too dense that his pursuers would have to dismount to follow him and that gave him the push of courage to brave it. It was impossible to continue running as there was no trail and the vines were thick all about him and he had no knife to cut his way, he could not use the sword. With as much haste as he could manage he fought his way through with the impetus of pure panic. They were now in the forest, the babarians rumoure to fear nothing, how could they fear the forest when they did not know what abounded in it? He knew though, being a wizard he knew. Unspeakable things dwelt in the Kreshan forest, unnamed and long forgotten things if ever anyone had lived to tell of them. Part of his learning had been about the Kreshan and its mysteries which had became more mysterious to him with the knowledge he had gained than they had been before. His teacher had emphasised that it would be better to never enter the forest than to satsify their need for knowledge so no one in recent history had ever entered it. It was said the Ironblood knew them all and as the saying went 'All creatures heeded the Ironblood'. He fervently hoped so otherwise the sacrifices of all who had just died would be for naught and Criaca would be heavily yorked for all time.
Every few paces he was now jumping over low and fallen branches, his tired legs sceaming their fatigue but the horror that had befallen, that would befall him and ultimately Criaca would not let him rest. The hilt of the sword periodically swung across his back to bash at the side of his head and the strap bit into but he could not stop to right it. He knew his trail would be easy for his persuers to follow so he could not afford to stop even for an instant, he was paving an easier going for them and they would soon be upon him. He could hear them getting closer though he could not as yet see them.
