3*******
The mountain pass was narrow, and the drop off of it steep and jagged; Jonathan could see eagles' nests below him from his place in his saddle. His hands were clammy and his heart pounded as he tried to guide his temperamental pinto safely on the path. Taking his eyes off the ground for a moment, he was amazed to see Randall leaned back casually in his saddle sketching their surroundings.
The red-head paused a moment to study his drawing, then added a few more strokes that developed into a vague image of Kendel and his horse. Grinning, he turned and waved his paper at Jonathan.
"Eh, you!" he shouted above the steady clop of their mounts' steel shoes hitting the stone, causing echoes to scatter through the canyon like startled birds. "What do you think? I'm not sure if I like this style."
Jonathan shot Randall a tight-lipped look. "I don't believe you. We're riding a path from which we can easily slip and plummet to our deaths, and you're drawing!" His horse stumbled a little, and Jonathan shrieked and threw his arms around its neck as he was given a new and more terrifying view of the drop-off.
Randall laughed and turned to face front. "You worry too much. Your horse wants to die less than you do; it will not slip if it can help it. In fact, I think it likes frightening you like that."
"Keep it down," Falcon snarled back from somewhere ahead of them. "Everyone in a ten-kano area is going to know we're here, thanks to you two."
Randall chuckled to himself. "When Fennick hasn't done anything Falcon can be angry about, he's just as irritated as when he has!"
As if on cue, notes of a Sand-Cat song difted back through the line of horses and men, the words lilted in Fennick's odd mewling voice.
Jonathan grinned and for a moment, relaxed his death-grip on the reins. "By the gods, you can hear the teasing smile in his voice!"
Randall nodded, his chuckles escalating into full laughter. "I can't tell if he's out of key or not!"
Ahead of Randall, Kendel gave a long-suffering sigh. The beautiful blonde warrior adjusted his tunic and gave a moment's serious thought to jumping off his horse, onto Fennick's, and strangling the Desert Fox with his hair. He clutched his long braid with one hand.
Falcon snarled again, snapping out something to his brother in their native tongue.
Fennick, duly chastised, fell silent.
The wind swirled through the narrow pass and down into the canyon, trilling like a savage raptor descending upon its prey, and whipping away the sound of the ponies' hoofbeats and men's conversations.
The little village they were riding down to was nestled snugly in the rolling, verdant hills in the distance, as evidenced by curls of cooking fires rising from quaint and quiet houses barely visible even from their high vantage point in the surrounding mountains.
Thorn sighed heavily as the sloping gradient increased leading down into the valley. He was glad to finally be at their final stop, and he was sure his men would be as well.