Young Writers Society

Chapter Four

The night was dark and gloomy; nothing could be seen except what were just a few feet in front of them. It was dangerous riding, since they wouldn’t be able to see if any attackers or bounty hunters decided to ambush them. The moon could be seen, yet a cloudy haze wrapped around it so very little light came through to the earth. The soft sound of horse’s hooves hitting dirt and a couple crickets could be heard, yet everything else was deathly silent. There were no coyotes howling at the moon, or wolfs stalking their prey. Kieran was breathing heavily from riding hard, he glanced around at his men as he slowed from a canter to a walk. All looked utterly exhausted and Kieran suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. In his haste to reach Snow before King John hanged her, he had pushed both his men and horses a little too far.

“Take a break men, you look like you just rode out of hell with the devil himself after you,” Kieran instructed in a low voice, as he reigned his horse Tuck into a full stop and dismounted. He slid from the saddle and almost doubled over from the jolt of pain to his exhausted legs. Ignoring Connor’s worried glance, he led his dark bay battle horse to a tree and tied him. Then he let his legs give way, and his body fell carelessly to the ground.

Kieran closed his eyes and fought the urge to punch something; he was both mentally and physically drained. Taking a deep breath of refreshingly cold air, he pushed all thoughts out of his mind. Telling himself he would not appear weak the men who would so willingly lay down their lives for his sake. When Kieran reopened his eyes, he found Connor staring at him from a little ways away; Kieran met his gaze and nodded in understanding. The men wouldn’t be of any use to him in the next couple days when the real work would take place, if they didn’t rest now, at least for a couple of hours. The unspoken words that were exchanged between the two hung in the air, before Kieran finally cleared his throat, “Rest for a couple of hours, men. Take turns on guard duty and wake me when it comes my turn.”

Five pairs of eyes followed him as he curled up on the ground and wrapped his cloak tighter around his upper body, each pair of eyes showing fatigue and relief. Once a guard was set and everyone else who wasn’t on guard duty had settled in, Kieran was finally able to close his eyes and fall into a dreamless slumber.

***

Colm’s mind wandered from the events that had taken place all in the last two days, as he took his turn for guard duty. First was the conversation he had happened to overhear, between Cole and his brother Chohen from the tavern. Ever since he had heard their plans of assassination and betrayal, he had been on the edge, waiting for a knife in the back. He doubted the man Cole could or even would be able to kill him. Chohen did not seem like the type to be able to take another man’s life, yet with Cole you could never be too sure.

Second, was the letter from Snow that had driven Kieran onto the brink of madness. He hadn’t let anyone see the letter, claiming it was private and his only words were that Snow was in danger and they were going to rescue her. He knew Kieran and Snow had a thing for each other, everybody knew it for it was pretty dang obvious when the two were together, even though they tried to hide it under a mask of business. Yet looking at Kieran sleeping underneath the spruce tree, he seemed to have aged twenty years in one day. His brow was wrinkled in worry, even as he slept and the tiny specks of gray in his hair suddenly looked more evident.

Colm sighed, the mission of rescuing Snow, Kieran had embarked on was an extremely dangerous one. It was exactly what King John hoped to accomplish from them and every one of the men knew it. Still, their loyalty kept them by Kieran’s side until the very end. He was no different, he owned Kieran his entire life and everything he had and would not desert him in his times of need, even if it resulted in his own death. Colm was still amazed to the very day, how much Kieran trusted and cared for his men as if they were all brothers to him. To Colm, he had always been the older brother role model Colm had hoped to be to his own younger brother Morgan.

At the thought of Morgan, Colm sighed. Morgan was at the age Colm was when he had become a thief and a breaker of rules, before Kieran had rescued him from the noose and taught him how to live his life in a better way, for the good of the people. Colm twiddled his fingers in worry, Morgan had a good head on his shoulders, and he was smart as a whip and could become a great man if he would just wait another year before doing anything rash. That way he could grow up just a tad more.

Colm laughed at himself and muttered under his breath, “Your waiting for him to do something you yourself haven’t even accomplished yet and twenty- six,” he mocked himself.

“Colm? Come get some sleep and I’ll take over for my watch,” came Kieran’s dark voice. Colm jumped at the unexpected sound, had he heard me? He asked himself worried. Kieran didn’t give any indication that he had heard Colm as he took Colm’s log and settled into take his watch.

“Wake Ryan in an hour to take the last watch. Got that Kieran? You need sleep too.” Colm told him as he settled on the ground and pulled his cloak tighter around him to get rid of the chill.

Kieran hid an amused grin at Colm ordering him when it should have been the other way around; he didn’t mind though for he considered them all equal to him, “Get some rest.” He told Colm, knowing he wouldn’t wake Ryan.

Colm glanced, not reassured, at Kieran’s back but before he had time to worry about anything, he was already asleep.

***

Kieran didn’t bother to wake the next man up to take watch. Instead he took guard until the sun started to make an appearance. He had a lot on his mind and knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anyhow and there was no use depriving someone else of the little sleep they were getting. Kieran’s mind wandered to the thought Snow, the times they had spent together and the life he could have had with her. He cursed himself for being so stupid as to choose the life of an outlaw, over the life of a husband and maybe even father. He thought of what his life could have been had he not been young and foolish, with his thoughts filled to the brim with heroism and bravery, when the opportunity to settle down had arisen.

Kieran fiddled a piece of grass around in his mouth as he thought of Snow’s daughter Katherine. What would become of the strong spirited young woman with so much potential, if he failed? Angry with himself for even daring to think of his failure to rescue Snow, he pushed the thought aside. He would not fail. He could not fail. He would rescue Snow, for Katherine’s sake as well as his own. He needed Snow too much to fail. He would be nothing without her loving and caring presence in his life. His thoughts turned to the letters he had exchanged with her. The words that had been exchanged. At first he had thought that the letter that had come to him was a reply to his last one. Yet when he opened it he immediately knew she had not received the last letter he had sent to her, that had told her that if she would just say the word, he would leave the group and become a farmer, if it meant he could stay with her until the end of time.

Kieran’s shoulders slumped, he had to rescue her. Even if it meant getting himself captured or killed. With that thought imprinted into his mind, Kieran rose and began waking his men up to ride.

***

The sun beat down upon the men as they rode. It had already been a day and three quarters since Kieran had received Snow’s letter and he was getting more and more nervous as they drew near. Would Snow be okay? Could they make it in time to free her? Questions flooded through him and he tried to push them aside and focus on the task at hand. Getting to the castle was step one.

Kieran reluctantly slowed Tuck down to a faster paced trot, he alternated walking and running the horses so he didn’t run them to the ground in his haste. If he had been alone, Kieran would have run at neck breaking speed until he arrived. He knew that horses would run until their heart burst if he wanted them to, but he couldn’t make them do that.

“Kieran?” Connor said pulling his dark brown gelding, alongside Kieran’s battle horse, even with him on the smaller horse he was about Kieran’s height, “From what I can remember King John’s castle isn’t very far from here, another days ride at the most.”

Kieran didn’t comment on the fact that the days ride was time Snow didn’t have, the King’s men would arrive at the castle today, instead he just nodded “Good. The faster we can make it there the better,” was all he could bring himself to say.

They rode along in silence. Connor spit on the ground, getting rid of his excess saliva before he uncorked the cask hanging from his saddle horn, and drank from it. Then he handed it to Kieran. Kieran nodded his thanks and took a couple gulps, he had run out of water an hour before and his lips were starting to get parched from the sun’s constant heat. His head was pounding from lack of water as well as a headache from lack of sleep. His clothes were drenched in sweat and dirty with dirt and dust, as were many of the other men’s clothes. Their horses were sticky and caked with sweat. Every couple of hours they stopped and unsaddled their mounts before they soaked them down with water. The light breeze they had felt that morning was gone, leaving behind in its place extra heat.

Taking a deep breath, Kieran gently prodded his horse faster, “Ride hard men, the castle is almost within our reach!” he yelled as they picked up speed. Seven riders slipped from a faster trot into a gallop, eventually reaching a canter, kicking up dust as the rode as if the devil himself was after them.

Authors Note - Some small details may have changed from the very first chapter I posted because I wrote the first chapter and posted it  then went on a 'fixing up details" spree. So some small details are different. Sorry =)