It was a cruel twist of fate, that with one of the Blucester busy gates within sight, Jax’s normally sure footed and composed horse reared, threatening to throw its rider unceremoniously to the ground.
A rotund heavy set man had barreled into the street from the nearby tavern, and found himself directly in front of racing hooves, arms waving protesting his innocence.
“Wooh!” called out Jax as he tried to bring the mount under control.
“Sorry I am. Move I must. So sorry!”
Every attempt to move found him faced with flailing hooves. Left then right, then back left again in pathetic apologetic fashion. The time lost trying not to trample to death the barrel sized man had allowed a small group of guardsmen the opportunity to seal off any viable escape.
“Kindly dismount your stead when your ready,” requested an officer who clearly stood out amongst them.
“I’m sorry I can’t do that,” replied a resilient Jax, still fighting his rearing horse. “I’m just not sure you’d understand the urgency for my need to leave.”
“Come down and we can discuss it!” The officer looked back up the road as the sound of other horsemen could be heard rapidly approaching.
“As respectful an offer, I must decline and make haste from those less agreeable than yourself.” Jax skillfully positioned his horse and urged it push on through the guards directly opposing his progress to the gates.
“Stop him!” bellowed the command, but all too late as Jax and his stead leapt at two unsuspecting guards and galloped onward with increased urgency.
Moments later, a group of heavily clad horsemen led by an unmistakable witch hunter followed hard in Jax’s tracks. “Pathetic!” hissed a female voice as she passed the hapless guards.