Thanks for the critiques a week or so back. I've revised the opening based on the feedback which hopefully will have made it a bit punchier and removed the perceived POV issues.
As always, all thoughts welcomed.
********
Danny ducked as he sensed the cobblestone hurtling towards his head. He felt the wind ruffle his hair as it hurtled past and span round to snatch another out of the air.
A half dozen men stalked him. Hard, angular men with quarry dust thick on their clothes. One stood proud of the others, thick stubble on his face and a broken bottle in his grip. A vicious curved scar disfigured the taut muscles of his forearm. Ralendek’s deniers.
They looked serious this time. Danny’s eyes flitted around, searching for his escape route but the narrow street finished in a dead end a couple of dozen strides behind him. He didn’t suppose he could convince his attackers he was there to save them.
He’d have to take them on. He reached instinctively up his back, hand closing on thin air. A sickening grew in his stomach and he swallowed. Without a weapon he was only a boy facing a lynch mob. No, he was a Stoneborn facing a lynch mob. Maybe he could get away.
The men advanced cautiously, reducing the gap to a dozen strides. He stood fast, holding his nerve; if he backed off he’d have no room to move.
‘Nowhere to run boy,’ the man with the broken bottle said with a sneer of satisfaction.
‘We’re gonna snuff you out Stoneborn,’ yelled another, brandishing a makeshift club.
Danny steeled himself, desperate not to shake, not to show fear. He hefted the cobblestone in his hand, feeling its weight. Six strides. He dropped into a stance, trying to keep focus as his heart pounded in his ears. The men moved up on the flanks to catch him in a pincer. Three strides. A bead of sweat trickled down Danny’s temple. Just a little closer; his instincts screamed at him to run. The men hesitated outside of strike range. He whipped his arm through and released the stone.
‘No-’ The rest of the word evaporated in a muffled scream as the cobblestone smashed through teeth on its way into the lead man’s mouth. Danny turned and sprinted down the street towards the dead end. Heavy foot falls thundered behind him as the mob took chase. He glanced to the doors lining the street but none were open.
Just before he reached the end, Danny swerved hard to the left and jumped high up the end wall. He ran his feet up as he angled his body away and sprang off towards the side wall. High out of reach of his pursuers, Danny’s momentum towards the wall afforded him a couple of strides to pass over their heads before gravity caught up. He landed on his feet, a hand finding the ground for balance and charged back down the street. He skipped easily round a half-hearted tackle from the lead man. Shards of glass crunched under Danny’s feet and he winced as he saw blood escaping from the man’s mouth.
‘You won’t get away this time,’ a shout came from behind, ‘We’re not gonna let you bring war upon us.’
More yells from the pursuing men spurred Danny on. He hooked a lamp post to slingshot himself round the corner as he raced out of the street and into another. He had to make it back to the Stone Circles pub or at least somewhere busier. He skidded round a tight corner into the next turnoff, hoping his pursuers would lose sight of him. But they were quarry workers; fit, strong and in their prime. He wasn’t losing them.
He desperately tried to plot his route but couldn’t focus beyond the terror engulfing him as he hurtled down the short streets, taking turn after turn. The streets opened up, becoming wider with less houses and more space between them. The outskirts of Amicas. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and on the broader thoroughfare he could hear the drum of feet getting closer. He couldn’t out run them, not in a straight race. The heads of their early morning shadows bobbed next to him, steadily gaining.
He took a sharp change of direction and cut off between two houses, coming out on scrub land with more houses on the other side. Not much better. He willed his tired legs on, adrenalin pushing aside the burn in his muscles. He stumbled on the uneven ground but kept his feet, closing in on a fence before the buildings opposite.
He couldn’t hesitate, the fall of footsteps had thinned but at least two kept up the chase. Chest high, he launched himself at the top of the fence, grasped the rough wood in his hands and pulled. Flying horizontally through the air he cleared the fence, hit the ground in a roll and sprang out of it to find his feet, still moving.
Danny risked a glance behind, two men slowed to vault the fence. They breathed hard, their faces fixed in grim determination. He scampered between the houses and out onto the street turning back to the centre of Amicas.
‘Alright Danny,’ Scarlet’s familiar tones called out from behind him. He skidded to a halt and whirled round. ‘Out training again?’ she asked ambling along, a brace of adult priggins dangling from her belt, a strap slung over her shoulder.
‘Deniers. Run!’ Danny shouted, sucking in great lungfuls of air. He made to set off again. Scarlet didn’t move to follow. ‘Scarlet!’
The two pursuing men charged out of the gap between the houses. They barely registered Scarlet as their eyes found Danny and they slowed to approach, one armed with a makeshift mace and the other a wickedly curved knife, the rusty blade dull in the sunlight.
‘Stop.’ The authority in Scarlet’s voice halted the men’s progress and they glanced in her direction. The glance turned into a fearful stare as they looked down the shaft of a crossbow bolt, loaded and ready to fire.
Scarlet manoeuvred round the pair to put herself between them and Danny. Her aim remained as unflinching as the men’s fixation on the crossbow. No one moved. A dozen strides separated the two pairs; a standoff. Danny scoured the ground for some kind of weapon but found only dirt.
The man with the knife began to advance, ‘Out of the way girlie, we all know you’re not going to shoot.’
‘Girlie?!’ Scarlet resettled her cheek against the crossbow, ‘Another step and I’ll put this bolt through you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ the man said and took another step.
As always, all thoughts welcomed.
********
Danny ducked as he sensed the cobblestone hurtling towards his head. He felt the wind ruffle his hair as it hurtled past and span round to snatch another out of the air.
A half dozen men stalked him. Hard, angular men with quarry dust thick on their clothes. One stood proud of the others, thick stubble on his face and a broken bottle in his grip. A vicious curved scar disfigured the taut muscles of his forearm. Ralendek’s deniers.
They looked serious this time. Danny’s eyes flitted around, searching for his escape route but the narrow street finished in a dead end a couple of dozen strides behind him. He didn’t suppose he could convince his attackers he was there to save them.
He’d have to take them on. He reached instinctively up his back, hand closing on thin air. A sickening grew in his stomach and he swallowed. Without a weapon he was only a boy facing a lynch mob. No, he was a Stoneborn facing a lynch mob. Maybe he could get away.
The men advanced cautiously, reducing the gap to a dozen strides. He stood fast, holding his nerve; if he backed off he’d have no room to move.
‘Nowhere to run boy,’ the man with the broken bottle said with a sneer of satisfaction.
‘We’re gonna snuff you out Stoneborn,’ yelled another, brandishing a makeshift club.
Danny steeled himself, desperate not to shake, not to show fear. He hefted the cobblestone in his hand, feeling its weight. Six strides. He dropped into a stance, trying to keep focus as his heart pounded in his ears. The men moved up on the flanks to catch him in a pincer. Three strides. A bead of sweat trickled down Danny’s temple. Just a little closer; his instincts screamed at him to run. The men hesitated outside of strike range. He whipped his arm through and released the stone.
‘No-’ The rest of the word evaporated in a muffled scream as the cobblestone smashed through teeth on its way into the lead man’s mouth. Danny turned and sprinted down the street towards the dead end. Heavy foot falls thundered behind him as the mob took chase. He glanced to the doors lining the street but none were open.
Just before he reached the end, Danny swerved hard to the left and jumped high up the end wall. He ran his feet up as he angled his body away and sprang off towards the side wall. High out of reach of his pursuers, Danny’s momentum towards the wall afforded him a couple of strides to pass over their heads before gravity caught up. He landed on his feet, a hand finding the ground for balance and charged back down the street. He skipped easily round a half-hearted tackle from the lead man. Shards of glass crunched under Danny’s feet and he winced as he saw blood escaping from the man’s mouth.
‘You won’t get away this time,’ a shout came from behind, ‘We’re not gonna let you bring war upon us.’
More yells from the pursuing men spurred Danny on. He hooked a lamp post to slingshot himself round the corner as he raced out of the street and into another. He had to make it back to the Stone Circles pub or at least somewhere busier. He skidded round a tight corner into the next turnoff, hoping his pursuers would lose sight of him. But they were quarry workers; fit, strong and in their prime. He wasn’t losing them.
He desperately tried to plot his route but couldn’t focus beyond the terror engulfing him as he hurtled down the short streets, taking turn after turn. The streets opened up, becoming wider with less houses and more space between them. The outskirts of Amicas. He’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and on the broader thoroughfare he could hear the drum of feet getting closer. He couldn’t out run them, not in a straight race. The heads of their early morning shadows bobbed next to him, steadily gaining.
He took a sharp change of direction and cut off between two houses, coming out on scrub land with more houses on the other side. Not much better. He willed his tired legs on, adrenalin pushing aside the burn in his muscles. He stumbled on the uneven ground but kept his feet, closing in on a fence before the buildings opposite.
He couldn’t hesitate, the fall of footsteps had thinned but at least two kept up the chase. Chest high, he launched himself at the top of the fence, grasped the rough wood in his hands and pulled. Flying horizontally through the air he cleared the fence, hit the ground in a roll and sprang out of it to find his feet, still moving.
Danny risked a glance behind, two men slowed to vault the fence. They breathed hard, their faces fixed in grim determination. He scampered between the houses and out onto the street turning back to the centre of Amicas.
‘Alright Danny,’ Scarlet’s familiar tones called out from behind him. He skidded to a halt and whirled round. ‘Out training again?’ she asked ambling along, a brace of adult priggins dangling from her belt, a strap slung over her shoulder.
‘Deniers. Run!’ Danny shouted, sucking in great lungfuls of air. He made to set off again. Scarlet didn’t move to follow. ‘Scarlet!’
The two pursuing men charged out of the gap between the houses. They barely registered Scarlet as their eyes found Danny and they slowed to approach, one armed with a makeshift mace and the other a wickedly curved knife, the rusty blade dull in the sunlight.
‘Stop.’ The authority in Scarlet’s voice halted the men’s progress and they glanced in her direction. The glance turned into a fearful stare as they looked down the shaft of a crossbow bolt, loaded and ready to fire.
Scarlet manoeuvred round the pair to put herself between them and Danny. Her aim remained as unflinching as the men’s fixation on the crossbow. No one moved. A dozen strides separated the two pairs; a standoff. Danny scoured the ground for some kind of weapon but found only dirt.
The man with the knife began to advance, ‘Out of the way girlie, we all know you’re not going to shoot.’
‘Girlie?!’ Scarlet resettled her cheek against the crossbow, ‘Another step and I’ll put this bolt through you.’
‘I don’t think so,’ the man said and took another step.
