The Sorcerer's Imps

Part 1 of 3 - The Knight's Mission

The horse would go no further. She was tired and he knew that if he pushed, she would soon swing her massive head and nip at his knees in blatant rebellion. Five years together, and one would think that the horse was in charge rather than the powerfully built man that rode her.

The morning they’d left the palace the sky was a vibrant blue canvas dotted with tiny cotton ball puffs of cloud. By that first evening those clouds had coalesced into a massive, roiling tumble, darkening and moisture laden, but mercifully holding back. As the sun dipped behind the tops of the trees, the knight built a small fire and cooked a partridge he’d been lucky to capture in a snare. Savory steam rose from the small but delicious smelling bird. He tested a bite of the edge, wincing as it burned his lips. As he lifted it to his mouth again for a full bite, the cloud let loose as if it had been watching him, waiting.

The rain did not start gently, with a little warning patter of an initial shower before the …