3. Fire from Heaven, part 3: The Horde
Once out of the wood, they slowed. Bartz had regained some use of his legs, and though it hurt, he moved Boko into the steppes so he could have a better look.
The strange rock that had flown through the sky left a trail of destruction in its wake. The ground was scarred, trees burnt, and several woods were smoldering and hot orange still. The goblins were everywhere, attracted like moths to the chaos. Following the path was not hard at all; the huge town-sized rock had come to rest in a grove of trees to the far northwest, effectively cutting off the route to Trona.
From behind him he heard the sounds of an amassing horde. Further south, he heard the sounds of war cries and saw flames.
Talmon.
For a moment he felt like he should go back there and save the villagers. The goblins were certainly there now, and the villagers must be scared as ever. He imagined Kylene' face, her blond hair spattered with blood, the heavy breathing of a goblin hovering over her, teeth rotted with bones, eyes pitch with scarlet. Her quick breaths, as if she anticipated his cruelty and welcomed it, while at the same time struggling in his grasp and screaming for help, from any lover she had ever had during the course of her short life.
But Bartz's pride held him back; why did they deserve to be saved, when they had nearly killed him; this was the answer to their cruelty. Bartz felt guilty with these thoughts: they had all the right in the world to hold him accountable for his crimes, but no matter. That direction was simply too dangerous now. He only had one route: north. He was curious about the rock, and this gave him an adequate excuse. He limped north, riding slowly. It was as if Boko also knew the dangers, and he moved forward cautiously.