Excerpt from Best Selling Fantasy Novel: Brother, Betrayed

From Chapter Forty Four of Brother, Betrayed "A Field and a Cabin"

Fasime turned for his mount, but he saw Eltha had already untied him and was leading the mighty black warhorse quickly to them. He mounted and took the reins before turning towards Torgan. All of the villagers silenced at the sight of him. Agetha held her wounded son with tears in her eyes.
“Quickly!” Torgan shouted. “Gather what horses we have and follow him!”
Fasime sheathed his sword and shouldered his bow. He didn’t take the moment to glance to the villagers, the mother and the wounded boy, knowing what their eyes would tell him.
Bring her back.
Fasime flicked Lightning’s reins and cried out to him, starting him galloping out of the market and towards the northern woods. The sounds of the villagers were quickly out of earshot. They were into the field before Fasime realized what he was doing. He was one man against at least a dozen raiders. The feelings of duty towards the village and family that had harbored him strengthened his resolve and he withdrew the bow from his shoulder. They can’t out ride Lightning.
He was already to the threshold of the forest. He pressed his heals into the stallion’s sides and leaned forward. He had always held caution with the beast, not allowing it to ride at its fastest speed, not knowing, upon that brink, what he would unleash. But now he strove towards it, seeing that upon entering the forest there was little snow upon the ground and the marauders’ trail was indefinite.
The steed responded with a supernatural understanding. It rushed with zeal in the direction its rider commanded it. Fasime gripped the girdle tightly, feeling the jolting of the ride strangely smooth the faster they galloped, as if Lightning glided towards their foes, becoming discernible in the distance between the trees. No root nor stone nor limb hampered him.
Perilously Fasime straightened, reached for an arrow and knocked his bow. Soon. They will be within range soon.
They were deeper into the woods and Fasime was almost close enough. How many arrows will it take until they turn and fight? We shall see. Fasime raised the bow, unsure of his aim upon his shaking ride. He saw the trailing end of their riders clearly ahead. He closed one eye and drew the string, locking his legs against the stallion and targeted the rear rider. He released the string and the arrow flew ahead of him. Within a moment the enemy rider fell off his horse. He was close enough to see the other riders turn in their saddles and spot him. They didn’t stop and turn. They quickened their pace.
That won’t help you.

Copyright 2011 by Danielle Raver

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