Kre had thought himself a better than average rider, thanks to the teachings of his horse-master father, but in this wild flight through the forest, he felt wholly inadequate to the simple task of keeping up. Especially with his legs as burnt out as they were from their morning exercises.
Thankfully, Maple had no such trouble. Kre had a newfound respect for his mount and whispered more than a handful of prayers in thanks to whomever trained this lovely creature. She kept the perfect distance behind Dain’s horse. Close enough so that Kre could see and prepare his body for the quick movements and small jumps that he saw Dain experience, but far enough away that he had the time to actually react to them.
He didn’t dare look behind him for fear of not seeing the backswing of a loose tree branch and the last thing he wanted to do was to be the sole member of the company that could not survive the ride.
Part of him was also worried that they would just ride on without him. If they had to choose between rescuing the two dweorvkin as soon as possible or pampering their newest member that couldn’t manage to keep up… he was certain what choice they would make. The only consolation he took was that he was certain Ras wouldn’t let his horse trample over him if he did fall.
He tried to make sense of what Talimar said as they rode out.
Rakshasa.
A melodic word that didn’t seem all that menacing to Kre, but judging by how the others had reacted with backs stiffening and movements being far more hurried, he assumed that it indicated something terrible.
So, if this rakshasa was so dangerous, then what could the group of them do against a threat that could more than hold its own against three of their top warriors, leaving only one to flee and seek help.
More to the point… what could Kre do?
He continued to think about that very topic when they stopped to rest the horses. Much to Kre’s shame, he stumbled as he dismounted, his wobbly legs unable to support him. Beleg helped him sit upright and took out a small tub of something from his pocket.
“Dain made this,” the big man explained as he opened the canister, revealing a clearish, yellowish paste that had a sharp smell similar to pine needles. “Take down your pants.”
The order was odd, certainly, but Kre had learned enough about this group to know when they were playing and when they were serious. With his trousers loosened and piled up near his ankles, Beleg offered the tin, “Take a bit on your fingers, rub your hands together, and apply it to your calves and thighs.”
Kre scooped out a small amount at first but took a little more at Beleg’s urging. Already he could feel his fingers getting significantly warmer and quickly followed the rest of the instructions so that he wouldn’t lose out on any of the benefits of what he hoped was a healing unguent.
“Wipe your hands thoroughly and get some water in you. We’ll be back on the trail very soon.”
Kre nodded, cleaning his hands off as he got his pants situated where they were meant to be. Already he could feel his leg muscles loosening up and feeling soothed and wished that Beleg had left the medicine with him in case he needed to reapply it.
As Beleg foretold, the break didn’t last long and soon they were back in the saddle, though they started out a bit slower than before so that the horses could take it a little easier for a bit longer.