Riders of the Storm by Feath MacKirin "Con, have you seen my sword? I left it in Red's stall, and it's not there now." "You've lost your sword again?" Con sneered, unconsciously checking his back for his bow. "Ha, ha, very funny." Ward crossed his arms and glared. Yellow lightning flickered through the cracks in the old barn, gleaming off his spiked shoulder guards. A long low rumble of thunder rolled across the dry grass plains. Minnie, leading Midnight from her stall, spoke up softly. "I thought I saw a twist of silver under Red's feed." Another flash of lightening had Midnight dancing impatiently. Minnie reached up and stroked his black velveteen nose, calming him. "Red's gone soft," I said, giving Ghost one last brush over his magnificent rump. I threw the brush aside and slipped the saddle blanket on his broad back. "He likes his mash and straw bed too much." Ward glared at me and stalked to Red's stall. He opened the gate and pushed the roan out of the way. Reaching into the feed bin he fished around before pulling out his sword. He turned on the horse, accusingly. "You hid my sword!" Red nickered. "That's just mean." Ward glared and tried to hulk the horse into submission. Red laughed, his horsey bellow echoing back from the ancient barn timbers. "Red has a mind of his own," Minnie said giving Midnights hooves one last buff. "Rather like his rider." She gave Ward a shy smile over her shoulder. "He's mean," Ward said with pride. "Rotten to the bone." Red threw his head up, tossing his mane. "Let's get you ready, beast." Ward pushed the horse's neck, pointing him out of the stall; grasping his mane, he gently led the stallion out of his stall. "I wonder who is master, though." Con put the finishing touches on Ash's regalia. The hammered bronze bells glittered in the light of the lanterns. "I think we know the answer to that," I said in amusement as Red pulled off his saddle blanket for the second time. I felt my hood slip, and pulled it back automatically. My present companions were no longer shocked by me, but old habits die hard. "I'm hungry," Minnie turned to a low table and used a small silver knife to cut of a sliver of cheese. "You're always hungry," Con laughed as he joined her. "We can leave once Ward is ready," I glanced over at Ward, who was trying to get the bit into Red's mouth, unsuccessfully. Ward was cursing in a low and steady monotone. The thunder picked up pace, sounding more like a cadence now. Lightening was a constant flashing light, making the lanterns superficial. The scent of sulfa lay heavy in the air, a blanket of power. Hades woke up, and bounced over to me. Flopping down, he rolled onto his back for a belly scratch. Obliging him, I scratched the hounds black stomach; Hades' back leg twitched rapidly. Ward, finally victorious, joined the others at the table. "Just one last thing." Minnie said, looking over at me with her icy blue eyes. I nodded agreement and the others hastily shoved the last of the cheese into their mouths. We gathered in the back of the barn, where a small gravestone still stood, despite the years that had past. Minnie reached out a pale hand and brushed the brittle twigs away. "Peace," she read aloud the simple inscription. I put my arm around her shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sorry. So many babies die." She smiled up at me, breaking my heart again with her courage. "It's not your fault." After a moment of silence we turned away with unspoken agreement. We mounted our steeds, listening to the hysterical pounding of thunder; the world was being shaken apart. The horses danced in place, energy from the storm filling them with the desire to run. Hades waited patiently at Ghost's forelocks, tongue hanging, red eyes filled with hope for a good long run. "It's time," I said looking at the doors. Famine reached down and touched the arms, golden scales, embroidered on Midnights regalia. "It's time." She echoed. "It's time," War said, holding his sword with the hilt resting on his muscled thigh. "It's time," Conquest agreed, pulling his bow off his back. The storm shrieked, shaking the barn roughly. Using my scythe, I pushed open the barn doors. The storm snatched at them, throwing them violently back. Through the portal could be seen nothing but wind, a bruised violence that smothered the world in rage. The horses screamed at their old friend and trembled to be gone. "Now we ride." I commanded, leading the riders onto the storm.