Chapter 3

Pounding hoof beats block out all noise save the ferocious wind. Three days without rest, without any sleep at all, and Kanti is exhausted. Her horse Swiftdancer glistens from the run and the sweltering heat. She sweats just as much. Even at a gallop the wind is hot and dry, merciless to foreigners and hard on the natives. What once was savanna dried into high desert after the Spellplague. Now the foreigners call their lands the Shaar Desolation. She calls it home. There is no other place she would rather be than on the Shaar. That she rode for her life to a Dwarven city shames her. In all the Shaar, the Council Hills and the Dwarven capital are the only neutral ground. Today, Eartheart is her only hope.

She shakes her head to escape from her drifting thoughts. Nausea keeps her vision blurry and full of stars. She grew up here; her ancestors had lived here as long as anyone can remember. Her mind and body are accustomed to the heat but there are limits. She'd passed it hours ago.

Swiftdancer's ears swivel, hearing something too faint for her. Instinctively she follows the look and gasps. Three riders are nearly upon her. Although she can't see them, she realizes more riders are following. The tribesmen are large and powerful, yellow skinned men a little over five feet. They ride with a lifetime of experience on horses they'd raised personally. The tribesmen's short black hair shifts in the wind as they press their horses.

Kanti urges Swiftdancer on, "Please, just a little further."

She brushes Swiftdancer's neck, damp from the horse's sweat. Her nostrils flare as she huffs for breath. Swiftdancer is exhausted but Kanti needs more time.

"Kanti of the Hyena Tribe! Stop, we only want to talk!" She doesn't even bother answering. She's out of time. She can see Eartheart's walls and towers but she's still hours away. Gathering her wits and aligning her mind with the horse's rhythm, she calls upon the land. Earth magic draws plants from the very ground beneath her pursuers. The vines instantly tangle hooves and legs. The center horse screams from a broken leg, falling haplessly. The thought sickens Kanti but it means one less purser. The other riders sprint clear.

Her treacherous mind torments her with images of what would happen if she's captured. Suddenly Swiftdancer screams and trips. Only a moment of weightlessness passes before Kanti's instincts take hold and she tucks into a ball. She rolled when she strikes the ground, absorbing the impact. She scrambled around on her hands and knees before she finds her spear.

Five feet and yellow skinned, Kanti is tall for a Shaaran woman. Her black eyes dart from one rider to another and she decides the archer the greater threat. They encircle her on their horses. Swiftdancer rises up and Kanti winces when she sees the arrow in her hip.

"Throw down your spear!" The second horseman raises a spear. The archer shoots an arrow over her head. Already panicked, she throws her spear, piercing the horse's chest. Horrified, it rears, hurled him from his saddle.

Realizing she's weaponless, Kanti races after the wounded horse. Bucking wildly, when the horse sees her it sprints away. Cursing, Kanti claws at her belt for her stone knife. The huffing breath of a horse is all the warning she has. She rolls aside, the horse brushing passed, as the rider tries to spear her. The lion tribesman comes about and hurls his spear. Kanti barely dodges. The spear strikes the ground with such force it remains upright like a signpost.

Kanti reaches her feet just as the tribesman draws a handax and jumps off his horse. Her stone dagger with a handle wrapped in twain seems like such a weak thing. His ax is iron. He doesn't need anything special to split her skull. She wheels around him as he slashes twice, keeping a safe distance away. He counters her evasion and slashes twice more, forcing her back. Something snares her ankle and she trips. Falling, she realizes it was the archer who'd fallen from his horse. The axman drove her towards him.

She lands face first and jerks away. The handax slashes the ground she rolls away from. His hand shoots out, catching hold of her tan blouse and yanks her closer. She slashes the hand causing him to hiss. He disregarded his wound with a glance and slugs her. Disoriented by dancing stars in her vision, she can't resist when he raises his ax.

Swiftdancer charges him. He jumps aside but the archer is still on the ground. He can only scream before he's trampled. The axman turns and sprints for the spear he threw earlier. She jumps to her feet and chases him. He casts the ax aside, turning with the spear in both hands when she collides with him. Her dagger falls to the ground and they fight over the spear.

For a moment both struggle but his strength and weight quickly win out. So she kicks him between the legs. He groans but doesn't let go, instead pulling her into a headbutt. The blow knocks her onto her backside. He reels back to throw his spear when she grabs her dagger and drives it in his foot. Howling, he drives his spear into the ground, and uses it as a crutch.

Kanti seizes the hand ax and rises to her feet, facing him. His eyes seethe with hatred, seeing her as the origin of all his pain and suffering. His lips peel back in anger as he roars at her. Kanti charges, swinging with all her might. He blocks it, hooks the ax with his spear, and pulls it from her grasp. Off-balance, he can't stop her when she stamps on his injured foot. This time the tribesman falls. Seeing her chance, she jumps on top of him, pinning his arms beneath her. Straddling his chest she punches him again and again until he stills.

Spent, she falls into the sand beside him. Somewhere, a horridly piercing scream rings out, but she can't force herself to look. She blinks. It's becoming difficult to see through her swelling right eye, bruised from the headbutt. With one of her last spells, she heals it, and warm energy filled her. In seconds the aches and pains fade and her right eye opens.

She remains lying on the ground despite her fears. Swiftdancer huffs at her, stamping its hooves nervously. She brushes off her fatigue and fights to her knees. Swiftdancer whinnies for a moment before the horse stamps threateningly. Then Kanti notices the last tribesman, the one who'd lost his mount, sprinting towards her.

Swiftdancer rears and kicks at him. The tribesman roars so ferociously, so threateningly, that Swiftdancer retreats. For a heartbeat he studies her before he tossed aside his spear. Kanti stands up with her spear ready as the tribesman laughs at her. She thrusts and he catches it. He yanks her close and punches her in the stomach. Before she can react he punches her again. Stunned, she stubbornly holds onto the spear. Instead of taking it from her, he shoves her back.

"I can't belief the chieftain wants you. What a waste of time. You're pathetic Hyena girl. At least your mother put up a fight," he mocks her. He turns and kicks his fallen tribesman. "Get up weakling! Get up or I'll give you something to cry about."

The thought of her mother's fate fills Kanti with rage. She jumps to her feet and thrusts twice but the man dodges both. Her third thrust is low and causes him to spread his legs. That's when she runs to the side. Caught by surprise, the spear trips him. He laughs from the ground, completely unconcerned. She thrusts again, only to have him seize it once more. She's unwilling to let the spear go and he uses her stubbornness against her. He pulls her closer, inch by inch. Even angry as she is, she's terribly afraid of him. Realizing how foolish she's acting, she suddenly releases the spear, causing him to stumble back.

The tribesman she'd beaten rises to his knees. She hopes she can fight the warrior but knows she can't fight both. Then she spots his ax. She grabs it with both hands and races towards the wounded tribesman. The warrior screams but it's too late. She hacks into his skull with a sickening crunch. She falls to her knees on top of him. Deeply embedded in his skull, Kanti can't free the weapon. She shakes the handle only to break the ties holding the axhead to the stick.

The warrior roars again, "You'll pay for that!"

Kanti looks at the pathetic stick she held, barely as thick as her thumb and a foot long, coarse and full of splinters. It gave her an idea. Calling upon her last spell, typically used at the beginning of a fight, she enchants it. It thickens and lengthens, empowered by druid magic.

The warrior pulls no tricks. He just charges. She swings her club at his spear, splintering the fire-hardened wood into kindling. With all her weight behind it she swings again. Taken by complete surprise, he can only raise an arm. The club shatters it as easily as the spear. He howls and punches her. She stumbles sideways and falls, landing heavily on the sand.

"I don't need any weapons for you!" She swings at his knees but he jumps over it. Then he kicks her in the gut. He seizes her club and rips it from her hands. The instant it leaves her grasp it fades back to normal. He screams in frustration and hurls it away.

The horridly piercing scream interrupts him. They both look up. Above them circles a griffon. A majestic creature with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion, both stare uncertainly. This isn't just any griffon. They're common enough throughout the Shaar, especially this close to the Rift. This griffon is armored with fine mail and carries a Dwarven rider. She's never seen one this close but she's heard of the griffonriders of Eartheart.

He doesn't care. He kicks her again and snarls, "No one will save you!"

A glorious battle ax flies between them, sinking into the sand. She's never seen anything like it; runes and golden inlays are etched across the weapon. It is far too gaudy but the craftsmanship awes her. The warrior growls at the interruption and seizes its handle. He tears it free of the sand and raises it above his head. Then suddenly it disappears.

The Griffon lands nearby, disturbing the horses, and its rider jumps off. The Dwarf is a foot shorter than her but twice as wide. His silvery breastplate is as elaborate and etched as his ax. Shocked, she gasps when she recognized his ax. It returned to him! The Dwarf wears a helm shaped like an eagle' head. Black as night save where silver streaks mar it, his beard is sprinkled with jewels and clamps of gold. It falls all the way to his waist, where it's tucked into his belt.

"This is none of your concern Dwarf!" The Lion snarls.

"You know the law! Any lands within sight of the Eartheart are Dwarven domain! You will respect our neutral grounds! That means no raids or feuds on our territory!"

"Your people are weak! You lost your home and now you cling to a cliff. I am Lion Tribe! We rise like the sun over you! The Shaar will be ours!"

The griffon takes a threatening step and the warrior flinches. Suddenly the Dwarf seizes his throat and forces the tribesman to his knees. He bangs on the Dwarf's breastplate in vain and then strikes feebly at his gauntleted hand. Veins bulges in the warrior's face as fear creeps into his eyes. His face pales before he turns blue. The Dwarf pulls him close, "We've some strength left. I've fought Drow and Dragons and if you think the Lion Tribe frightens me, you're wrong."

The griffonrider throws him back, "Begone before I run out of patience."

Choking and struggling to breathe, the warrior spares her a hateful glance before fleeing. Kanti hesitantly climbs to her feet while the Dwarf studies her. "Now what am I supposed to do with you lass?"