It didn't all come back at once, if that's what you're thinking. My memory was too fractured, my mind too weak, my body too unsound, for everything to come crashing back into my head at once. Had I known the truth of my life and its entirety just then—what had happened to me in the past, what I had to do about it now—it's probable my poor heart would have given out.

Had it done so, the men who'd been sent after me would have found my pale corpse instead of the fever sick maniac they did find.

I heard them before I saw them. They were the sound of hooves pounding wetly against the drenched earth, and twigs and branches snapping as they were crushed beneath horses or broken aside by mounted men.

I was leaning against Bracken's side, one hand still grasping the pommel tightly. My mind that had whirled away from me so violently was awfully slow coming back. So slow in fact that it wasn't until the men were breaching the edge of the clearing that I truly became aware of myself, my surroundings, and my impossible predicament.

I struggled into the saddle with Bracken moving beneath me before I could signal him to. Always one step ahead, my horse, but one step wasn't enough.

For a while we ran, racing through the damp night with the torchlight brightening the path ahead of us and casting a misshapen shadow of Bracken and myself across the earth.

I want to believe that we ran to get away from the riders chasing us, but that's not true. I was running away from the truth. I didn't want to believe what I'd remembered. I ran away from the memory and the truth the way you run after walking through a web spun by a spider.

I ran to get away from it all, but it doesn't matter how fast you move or how far you travel, some threads of the web will always cling to you.

The memory did the same, and still to this day it's stuck all over me like a bad smell.

They caught us.

One minute I'm on Bracken's back and they're just a chorus of shouts and a cacophony of hoof beats somewhere behind us. I keep telling myself they're never going to be able to catch us, that no one can catch a Ranger's horse.

I'm not lying to myself. In his prime Bracken could have easily outrun just about anything on four legs with or without a disoriented rider on his back. These horses are like diamonds. Nothing can break them or match them but one of their own. I kept telling myself this, I kept telling myself there was no need to worry. But I overlooked one small detail about my pursuers.

They had a diamond named Abelard.

They catch us.

There was nothing gentle about it. They bolted up alongside us in the dark and seized Bracken by the bridle. We slowed, and before I could so much as think about lashing out at Halt someone seized me.

Everything happened in the glare of their torchlight.

They grabbed a handful of my cloak and collar and jerked me back off the saddle. My feet popped out of the stirrups, and they dragged me sideways off Bracken's back.

When they let go of me I fell from the still moving horses onto the ground that was locked in place. I tumbled across rock and roots and came to a rest with my breath hissing between my teeth. I'd landed wounded side first, and I couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't breathe.

I lay there panting to no avail as riders came up all around me, their torches throwing garish shadows into the night around us. They dismounted and two of them are picking me up when the torchlight finally washes across my face. They look at me, and I'm suddenly so sure they can see the truth written in the reflection of those flames in my eyes. I start shouting with all the air I have left.

"It wasn't me!"

I keep yelling past the pain in my chest, past the agony brimming in every bone in my body. They pull my arms behind my back.

"I didn't do it!"

I twist and writhe, and someone plants a knee in the small of my back and settles their weight on top of me. They hold me down.

"I didn't kill him!"

They pin me down and they tie me up. They put me on a horse that isn't mine with someone who isn't anyone I know.

And all the while I scream.

"I'm not a traitor!"

But I'm screaming lies.

It's been awhile but this story is still in progress. It hasn't been forgotten or abandoned, I promise! As always reviews are greatly appreciated. Let me know how this story is doing and if their is anything I can change or do differently to make Griff's story better. =)