Chapter 6
Lucy and Cecil galloped across the countryside at break-neck speeds. The arabians they rode upon were bred for speed and carried them swiftly away from the plantation and into the wilderness.
Cecil explained to Lucy that while Jim still had his tongue, he confided in him that it was Master Go in the West Provence that he was sent to go see. Lucy could hardly believe her luck. Despite her uncle's admonitions, Lucy had built a relationship with the old hermit. More than once her life was saved from the marauders by that kindly old man.
Jim had quite the head start, but on foot he was extremely limited in the distance he could travel. Or so Lucy thought. Jim was a trained scout and messenger. Long distance endurance running was the sport of choice for messengers. Men were more reliable than horses when it came to seeing their cargo delivered.
In the distance, Cecil and Lucy could finally see Jim, running hard and fast. They pressed their arabians steeds to narrow the gap between them. They were still about a mile off when Jim was suddenly surrounded by the marauders who dominated this part of the wilderness.
Jim's rapid progression towards the West Provence was suddenly halted by the boar-mounted wild-men who surrounded him. He quickly counted more than a dozen of them.
One of these creatures, baring a standard painted on human leather, circled around him, then spoke. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" The others laughed and mocked Jim, like cats verbally batting around a small bug.
Jim assessed his situation. Horribly out-numbered, surrounded on all sides, and there would be no way he could outrun their mounts for long. He could try using the terrain to his advantage, but they had the advantage when it came to knowing the region. So Jim's focus turned to the riders. His best bet was to single out their weakest link, steal their steed, and give chase.
As they mocked and threw their jibes at him, Jim noticed one among them who was habitually glancing towards his comrades, as if seeking their approval. He's the youngest. Probably his first hunt. He's the weak link.
Before they could even blink, Jim threw the stolen kitchen knife he concealed under his clothes at the leader. It embedded itself deeply into the pole of the standard he bore. While the marauder's attention was distracted by the suddenness of the attack, they missed seeing Jim knock the boy off his boar and start riding off with it.
The boar was the size of a buffalo, and when it started galloping, no, stampeding, steering it was an absolute nightmare. Jim spent more time hanging on for dear life than worrying about his pursuers.
Now, but a half mile off, Lucy and Cecil could see Jim break free from the circle of boar-mounted marauders and give chase. He broke due south and seemed to be making a mad dash across the wilderness. His pursuers seemed to be keeping a healthy distance behind him, biding their time and letting him exhaust his boar before closing their trap.
The pair on horseback adjusted their course to intercept Jim. Their steeds found a burst of strength that propelled them faster, and quickly closed their distance to Jim. This enraged the marauders, who circled about the trio, attempting to block them in.
Jim jumped from his dire-boar to Cecil's arabian and took the reigns. Cecil was relieved to have a superior rider take charge of his steed, but his relief was soon lost in a dizzying flash of pain as an arrow ripped through his side. Everything in Cecil's vision seemed to pass in slow motion as he lost control of his body and fell to the ground. The shock of his injury combined with his concussion rendered him unconscious.
Option-less, Lucy and Jim doubled back to protect their fallen friend. They attempted to use their arabians to form a wall around him, but they were completely surrounded. They dismounted together, and Jim watched Lucy's back while she tended to Cecil. "He'll live, if we can get him out of here."
The standard barer took one look at Lucy and recognized her immediately. "You," he growled from behind his mask, "You have trespassed on my land before." He dismounted and slowly crossed toward where she stood. "This will be your last time." He removed the standard from his staff and tossed it to one of his lieutenants.
Jim bravely stood between Lucy and the Marauder Captain, but his mighty backhand dislocated Jim's jaw and knocked the lad sideways where his underlings held him fast. Then the Captain raised his staff to strike Lucy down.
Lucy was quick on her feet and dodged the first to strikes, but was knocked unconscious by the third. Jim struggled futilely against his captors. Despite the pain in his jaw, he tried to cry out, but only a garbled, wordless mess was uttered.
While Lucy's unconscious body lay prone and defenseless on the ground, the Marauder Captain drew a knife and knelt down beside her. It was the same kitchen knife Jim hurled at him earlier. He held the blade downward and raised his arm high up into the air.
Originally posted on 5/11/13 at empowernetwork (dit) com/leewhittaker/rewriting-star-wars-post-archive
For a sneak peak at Chapter 7, go to empowernetwork (dit) com/leewhittaker/rewriting-star-wars-post-archive
