Scarlet Rain 1.2

Alright, I have been working on this for quite a while. And it is, trust me on this, much better than the previous 3-6 versions. This is the very first paragraph of the book, with out further ado, here goes:

A horse and its rider moved through ghostly shadows of fog...

Asher peered nervously into the gray emptiness in front of his horse’s head. He could see nothing, and still he urged his horse on to a faster pace. They galloped over the road, the hoof beats thudding softly in the moist dirt. Asher was vaguely aware of their location, but he at least knew that they were nearing his destination. He leaned into the saddle, adjusting his balance with the horse’s stride. The mare’s red coat flashed in the grayness, and Asher’s black cloak whipped behind him. The horse panted as it drew in the heavy air. Asher felt his leather satchel thump against his chest, and he grasped it firmly. Curiosity nagged at his mind, and he wondered what the letter’s precious contents could be. No one had ever paid him so much for delivering a message before. But then, he had never been willing to brave the fog before. Why didn’t I let someone else take it? He thought.

The horse’s hooves clattered on a hard section of the road. The forest had ended. Asher could tell because here, sound echoed far away into the distance. He had been warned of the chasm which lay to his left, and yet he pressed onward, slowing his horse only as much as necessary.

“Come on Flame.” He whispered to the young mare.

The slope had grown steadily, and the silence of the atmosphere worried Asher. He could barely see the edge of the road, and as Flame rushed past it, he hoped that she had better instincts than he. Suddenly, Asher was thrown forward as his she slipped. He rolled to a stop on the ground and turned to watch in horror as Flame slid over the edge. Her back legs pawed in thin air. He ran and grabbed a hold of the pommel of the saddle. He braced himself and pulled with all his might. The horse scrabbled on the ground. For a brief moment Asher lost his footing, and Flame slid backward. Then, he spotted his satchel, caught by its cord on the stirrup of the saddle. He readjusted his stance.

“Come on girl! Up you go!” He felt the ground shift as it became loose. With one urgent effort, Asher reached over and grabbed the cantle of the saddle and pulled for all he was worth. Flame suddenly found traction and scrambled back up onto the road. But the ground gave way. Asher dropped into the nothingness below him. He twisted around in the air and reached upward, and his hand caught onto a rock. Asher was jerked to a painful stop. As he swung back and forth, Asher peered into the fog below him. He could see for about two yards, the mist drifting in strange patterns, but nothing else. Asher braced his boots against the side of the cliff. He grabbed the edge of a crack with the fingertips of his right hand and stared upward. He tried to climb upward, but he could find no foothold to do so. A few moments passed, and Asher’s arms began to shake. He heard heavy breathing above him, and he looked up. To his surprise, the black muzzle of a horse was hovering above his head. The muzzle descended, followed by a head.

“Flame! Good work!” Asher said as he reached upward to grab ahold of her mane. Asher walked up the wall as he was pulled upward. He breathlessly reached the solid ground and stood shaking for a moment. Flame tossed her head and pawed at the hard road. Asher grabbed the satchel still attached to the stirrup and pulled it open. He stared inside and was relieved to find that the letter was there. Asher sighed. He gulped in the heavy air for a moment, then laughed as he thought about the adventure they had just had.

“When we get to the castle Flame, remind me to tell everyone that my horse pulled me up from the cliff wall.” Asher placed the satchel under his cloak and swung into the saddle. Thankfully, they were still making good time. Asher did not dare go faster than a trot now, and yet the edge of the road still seemed much too close. He wondered how the army of the castle handled this; it was barely wide enough for one horse to pass. Presently, Asher could hear the rushing of water in the silence. They reached a stone bridge which spanned a gaping crevice. Flame balked.

“Come on, don’t be stubborn girl.” Asher spoke gently. Still, Flame would not cross it. Asher dismounted and stepped onto the bridge. His horse reluctantly followed. “So you got tired of me, is that it?” Asher mumbled to himself. He was about to take another step when Flame pulled him back suddenly. Here, the stone gave way and a large hole spanned the width of the bridge. It had not entirely caved in, Asher could see a small ledge skirting the edge of the gap. He dropped the reins and stepped onto it with no hesitation. As he walked carefully along the edge, he could hear the roar of a river far below him. The chasm was obviously very deep, and if he slipped…Asher reached the other side of the hole and looked back. A horse could easily clear it. He walked to the other side of the bridge and was relieved to find no more holes. The road widened up ahead as well. Asher quickly went back to the gap and started across again. As he balanced against the side wall, he felt the tiniest fraction of stone shift beneath him. Asher jumped and landed on the other side just as the ledges on both sides crumbled and dropped, leaving the bridge in a dead end. Asher listened carefully, but he could not hear the stone land at the bottom of the crevice. The pieces of the bridge had not hit anything on the way down. Asher swiftly mounted his horse. Fortunately, the bridge was constructed so that it had no arch; it simply ran flat over the chasm. Asher knew that meant there must be some sort of supports, and that hopefully, the other side of the bridge still held. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the other side for the fog. “Minor details.” He told himself. He turned Flame around and headed back to a short distance. He knew she could make the jump. He grasped the reins firmly and gave a swift kick. Flame wheeled around and kicked, but Asher’s mastery soon prevailed. Flame galloped forward onto the bridge Asher counted the strides, then gave a supple command and felt the horse’s stride change. He held his breath as the right foreleg hit the ground, then they flew forward. A split second seemed to stretch into minutes. Were they too far away from the edge? Suddenly, they hit the ground. Flame continued her stride smoothly, as if they had never left the ground. The jump had been perfect. They reached the end of the bridge and Asher pulled her to a gentle stop. He looked behind him and laughed. Flame was one of the best horses he had ever owned.