As he was very close to the leg coming from behind a sort of crevice he saw the empty horse come from between the boulders. A strange outlandish curse sounded and the leg moved.
Coughlin didn’t hesitate a second. With great strength he grabbed the leg and pulled hard. He felt the weight give and come forward. With a bloodcurdling yell a man like figure dressed in heavy warm robes went down to hit a boulder with a sickening thud.
In an instant Coughlin swung himself around the corner to land on a small plateau with a small cave in the back.
Two very surprised beast-men were still busy getting to their feet when he was on them. A mighty kick with one leg was enough to sent the smaller of the two a few feet back, slamming against the rock wall, knocking the breath out of the fellow. The other received a hammock fist in the middle of his face sending him to the floor like a bag of salt.
‘Angus,’ he called softly. ‘Angus, are you alright?’
‘Yeah laddy, I be fine. The Bullface down here be not. Ye cracked his skull.’
‘Can you come up here, there be two more, alive.’
‘I’ll try me lad, I’ll try. Give us a hand here laddy,’ Angus puffed a few moments later poking his red head over the edge.
Angus found two bound and gagged beast-men, one unconscious, one looking at them with fear and hatred in his eyes.
‘Empty,’ Coughlin answered. ‘Just supplies and firewood.’