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Fouchet stared at the dusty road ahead, saw the combined shadow of him and his horse lengthen before them and dug his heels into the scrawny sides of the weary animal. The horse let out a high, thin whinny; it was nearing the end of its strength, the sides of its neck streaked with froth. Without proper rest it would not last more than a day, two if fortune smiled on its rider. But Fouchet had no time to waste; he spurred the mount onward in desperate hope of finding shelter for the night.

Lush green meadows and forests stretched unbroken for miles. It was a lovely, warm spring day, the fragrant breeze of the grass and flowers thick in the air; yet the unnatural silence cast an ominous hue over the idyllic scenery. No birds sang in the canopies, nothing rustled in the verdant shrubs. In a few hours the treacherous sun that shone so warmly now would sink into the tree-tops and darkness would descend, thick and impenetrable. He could not see in the darkness. They could.  (more…)