Kargan peered over the fur of his elder swordcat’s shoulder. He felt his mounts shoulders tense. The snow underfoot crunched with every step. His mount held still, letting the flakes of snow settle on her fur. Three southlanders in robes of linen wandered into the edge of the woods where they were waiting. The rest of the invasion ship was further back on the rocky beach. Together Kargan and his cat hid under a pine tree as the scouts drew closer. They watched the men look back and forth warily, but seemingly unsure of this area. Only the cat’s eyes followed them as they went past the snowladen tree.
Kargan could feel the pounce before it happened. He had been with his mount for many years and they knew each other well. The branches of the tree opened as they jumped through the air. A roar pierced the air. Terror paralyzed the southland scouts. One scout fell to a javelin before the cat landed on a second. The third turned towards them and loosed an arrow into the cat’s shoulder.
Kargan grabbed the heavy ax that hung by his side. The scout fumbled for another arrow, his fingers numb in the cold. Kargan split him in twain. He watched the southlander fall and then dismounted to check the arrow to make sure it was not an immediate threat. He could hear the rest of the invasion force getting ready and heading their direction. Kargan led his mount north into the mountains. He looked back and saw their tracks and small blood trail. “This will be fun,” he said to himself. “Come on girl, time to do our job.”