• The Rider urged his horse on. The sound of its hooves echoing through the woods. Branches hung above him in the moonlight like claws reaching for him. Causing shadows to dance in the fog that crept along the ground. He had heard no sounds of pursuit for awhile, but the purpose that led him to ride through night drove him on.

    As he rounded a corner in the woods, the lights of the fortress-his goal-shone like a beacon of hope from the edge of the woods. Only a little more and he would be under the protection of the archers on the fortress walls.

    Suddenly, like a pack of wolves, his pursuers burst from the forest directly behind him. Pulling his bow from its saddle case, he swung himself around so he faced behind him. He drew an arrow and notched it too his bow string. drawing the fletching to his cheek, the Rider drew a bead on the lead rider who pursued him. Taking a deep breath and mumbling a prayer to the gods for a sure and true aim he loosed the arrow. The pursuer fell off his horse and fell under the hooves of the other horses, whose riders urged there steeds on without a glance at there fallen member.

    The Rider then drew another arrow and let loose at the next pursuer. The arrow flew wide. He drew again, and again, and again. But no matter the number of arrows he let loose, they never struck again.

    Not wanting to loose more arrows the Rider turned in his saddle and stowed his bow. A head the fortress loomed out of the night at the end of the tunnel formed by the trees branches. He was almost there. He spurred his horse harder, laying his hand upon the steeds neck and whispering in its ear, hoping the horse would feel his respect and take the energy he offered.

    The Rider sped out of the woods into the wide field that ringed the fortresses perimeter. Seeing the lights ahead, his horse put on a spurt of speed, distancing them from their pursuers.

    "Open the gates," the rider cried, "Open the gates."

    Hearing his the riders cries the sentries upon the wall began to sound the alarm. The Rider approached the gates as his pursuers continued to give chase.

    As the Rider rode, a line of light broke along the face of the fortress as the gates were drawn open with a loud creaking of iron and wood. The Rider sped through the gates and into the courtyard. Spinning around, he watched his pursuer pull up just short of the archers range. As the gate re-closed they sat upon their horses and stared as though they could cause him to just ride out with their glare.

    The gates slammed shut, and the Rider slid from his saddle. Pulling the saddle bags from his horse he patted his steed.

    "That's good, boy," the Rider said.

    Giving the reins of his horse to a stable hand the Rider climbed the steps from the courtyard to the large doors of the keep. The doors swung open just enough to allow him entrance.

    The Rider stared inside for a moment, took a deep breath, and stepped into the fortresses dark interior.

    The doors slammed shut behind him.