Chapter 38 - Shadows of the Night
Rodrigo was one of the best trackers in Almeida's forces, but he was quickly realizing that experience in Europe or even the forests of Brazil meant nothing here. The land of Nuri was different—wilder, more ancient, more ruthless. It did not welcome outsiders; it swallowed them.
His eyes remained locked on the faint traces of the lone messenger's path—broken branches, hoof prints, disturbed soil. The trail was clear, yet something gnawed at him.
Why is he moving so fast but leaving so many signs?
Rodrigo frowned. It was almost too easy. And that was when he noticed it—the silence.
The jungle, once alive with the chirping of insects and distant cries of animals, was now eerily quiet. A deep primal instinct kicked in, warning him. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as his horse slowed to a cautious walk.
Then, a shadow shifted in the trees.
Before he could react, a snarling leopard launched itself from the foliage, claws extended, fangs bared. Rodrigo barely managed to jerk his body to the side, avoiding a killing blow, but the beast's claws ripped through his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. His horse reared up in panic before bolting into the darkness, leaving him alone.
Pain shot through his arm as he scrambled to his feet, drawing his sword. The leopard circled him, golden eyes flashing in the dim moonlight, its tail swishing in irritated hunger. It hadn't expected its prey to be armed.
Rodrigo swallowed, blood trickling down his arm. The messenger had done this on purpose.
Kibet had disturbed the natural balance of the jungle, driving its predators into Rodrigo's path. It was a brilliant, ruthless tactic—one that had worked perfectly.
Rodrigo would have admired it, if he wasn't about to be torn apart.