Paul gave chase. He had always been faster than Absolom, but Absolom had a head start as Paul was held up by the fray of people fighting. Roman followed him, as well as Gerry. The final glimpse allowed him to see Dravis holding back the Baaman soldiers to allow the other rangers to give chase.

A horse galloped out of the alleyway as they entered, and the trio of rangers jumped onto the remaining mounts and spurred them on. Houses and shops flashed past as they chased Absolom through the streets and past the ongoing battle outside the palace. His horse was faster.

He burst from the city as his horse streamed from the effort and flew across the countryside. Over hills and through valleys they pursued him, each still carrying their javelins, but not close enough to use them effectively.

Their old friend wore no armor as the emperor’s advisor and his hair was worn long and loose, such a stark contrast to their mutual upbringing. Even Gerry kept her hair in a near braid and hidden under her helmet. He passed under trees as he fled, his hair and his cloak blowing in the wind as he sped across the land, slowly losing the rangers.

Suddenly, as he passed under a low branch, his hair caught on the bark and tore him from the saddle. He hung there, suspended in midair and floundering as the trio approached. Roman growled at him, causing him to yelp in fear at the large man. “This is for Betta,” Paul shouted just before he threw his javelin, piercing Absolom through the heart.

“This is for my father!” Gerry cried, following suit.

“For honor.” Roman drove the final spear home. They turned away as one and left his body hanging from the tree as they returned to Dravis.