Quartes stood on the edge of the woods.  The wind had picked up as clouds floated in from the east, the leaves and branches rustled behind the Landian.  His grey cloak snapped, but otherwise Quartes stood still.

It wasn’t much of a wonder that he found himself here again, the Landian seemed to have a preference for the woods.  That he was waiting at the edge of the woods as not two but ten riders approached was not a preferable change from before.  The group of riders did not barrel forward like the messengers had and stopped a ways off from the waiting Landian.  Their masks watched him in their own stoic stare.  The Taikeets stomped and called in their agitation, some nipping at others of their kin.  There was a difference in the plumage of these birds, streaks of yellow and orange marks their sides and their wings.  A color than blended into the cloaks and masks of these riders, setting them a part from the messengers.  Quartes, the hood of his cloak drawn up, waited and watched as the group turned inward, snippets of their voices floating over on the winds as they discussed amongst themselves.  One rider, a smoking brand in his hand and riding a Taikeet that showed signs of thinning feathers, seemed to mediate. Eventually, he and five others turned their mounts about.  The six of them retreated a ways before their Taikeets faced back, watching as the remaining four riders spread out before the Landian.

“To whichever of you ride away from here,” Quartes called across the distance, “tell your chieftain that I will come for him.  For him and any who take his place until this hunt is ended.”

The quartet had paused at the Landian’s words but as soon as Quartes finished they each gave up a whooping battle cry, the Taikeets taking up the sound as their riders lowered their spears and charged forward.  Quartes stepped back into the woods, his cloak seeming to just melt into the shadows of the trees.  The riders for their part were undeterred and their battle cries carried back out of the trees.

Until they turned to shouts, and then scream.  High whistles that Keto could only guess were that of the Taikeets joined the cacophony.  The birds were still screeching in agitation when the quartet came running out the woods, heads down and not letting up until they were behind the line of the remaining riders.  Blood marred the feathers of two of the mounts.

Another quartet, all but the older rider and one next to him, pushed their mounts forward.  They showed more caution, spears lowered, their ribbons and baubles blowing in the breeze, but they did not charge into the woods.

“Come out Landian, do not make us burn you out.”  A series of glints flashed through the air in response and one of the riders held up a hand.  The brand wielder pushed his own Taikeet forward, the large plume on its head bouncing, the man inspected where one of the flashes had landed.  A few of the others had moved to conduct their own inspections.  “A bribe alone is an insult, but this is an insult of a bribe.”  The elder motioned the others forward and then began to weave his brand through the air.  A deep chanting came from the man and Keto noted how the smoke didn’t float away, instead it seemed to be condensing.

What it was meant to actually do she didn’t know, nor did she get to see.

The golems burst from the woods first.  They weren’t large ones, maybe up to her knees, but the Taikeets didn’t seem found of walking stones coming near them.  The bird screeched, rearing back as their riders fought to get them back under control.  Which was also when the arrows came.  Keto had barely registered the first one, quivering from the eye slot of the elder’s mask, before the next two landed.

The smoke returned to its natural dissipation as the elder fell from his mount.  As did one of the other stricken riders, the last snapped the arrow from where it stuck out from his cloak.

The one rider who had stayed behind turned his Taikeet about and drove it hard back the way they had come.  The three surviving riders were hardly ready when Quartes came rushing back out of the woods.  Gone was the cloak, hardened leather made a breastplate, cap, bracers, and greaves.  Old sword was in hand, Ras and Cheriss flanking at his shoulders.  He reached one of the golems, launching himself off the top of the Fey.  The floating swords parted with him then, each darting out to cut under brandished spears and bury themselves in the riders beyond.

Quartes took the last rider in his lunge.  The pair falling to the grass as panicked Taikeets screeched.  Quartes landed on top, and his blade soon followed in its own downward plunge.

The Taikeets scattered, the wind howled across the field and Quartes straightened as his swords returned to his side.

With a heave Keto pushed aside the tarp, its interweaving of grass and bushes only now revealing it to be anything besides a spot of the field. She pulled Keid up with her, the shield hanging on one arm as she bent down and grabbed her pack. When she joined the Landian he was standing over the elder rider.

“Can I have your waterskin please?” he asked as she neared.

Keto put down Keid and pulled the waterskin from her pack. The Landian removed the stopper and poured its content over the smoking brand that had fallen from the dead rider’s hands.  The brand hissed and sputtered, steam rising as it went out.  Keto wandered over to one of the golems, picking up the copper coin its squat leg pawed at and placing it on top of the Fey’s dome. It straightened and stood still for a moment before turning, hopping from one stone stub to another as it headed back towards the woods.

“What do we do about them?” Keto asked as she straightened, looking at the riderless Taikeets that had flocked back together a distance away. Quartes looked up from inspecting another of the riders.

“We’ll leave them, other riders will come back to this spot and gather them.”

“We could ride them and stay ahead,” Keto offered, moving over to another golem and placing another coin on top.

Quartes shook his head as he finished his inspection, slipping some crude gems into his belt pouch. “Taikeets are temperamental, riders take years to bond with one. Be more likely to slow us down.”

“Right,” Keto responded frowning.  “Should we go somewhere and try and get horses or something?”

“No,” the Landian answered as he dragged the second rider towards the Elder, “I don’t ride horses.”  He left the rider next to its leader and moved towards another.

“You do understand that statement is stupid, I bet a lot fewer of your stories would end with you arriving in the nick of time if you got there early while riding a horse.”  Quartes didn’t even bother to look up as he riffled through the third rider.  Keto sighed, “Fine, so where to?”

“Not sure how much lead we’ll have…”

“Have more if we rode horses,” Keto interrupted.

“…but we’ll head to the village we passed yesterday.”

The Landian finished with the riders, leaving them all laid out next to each other, spears at their sides.  Keto for her part placed a coin on each of the golems’ domes before following them into the woods and returning with the gear the Landian had left there.  She handed them over and the Landian settled back into his cloak.

“Besides, now would not be the time for you to learn how to ride,” he answered as he raised his hood.

“I think you’re just scared of horses,” she muttered before following him back into the field.