Horsemen

"HORSEMEN!" came the cry of a sentry on the wall. Baleren got up from his seat at the base of the wall while the guards rushed to the gate's cranks, awaiting an order from the sergeant. As he climbed the wall he saw the sergeant emerge from the barracks, his helm affixed but his visor open, the stubble of a days growth visible on his weathered face.
"Ours or theirs?" the sergeant asked the sentry as he ascended the stairs on the opposite side of the gate.
"They aren't ours, I don't recognize the formation. Their uniforms are too dark to be imperials."
"That means raiders or worse. Get the gate closed!" He barked the order the men had been waiting for with the weight of years in command. Baleren paused to watch him climb to the gate. The guards said he was a good sergeant, and really the only one in command within ten leagues. He was only passing through, but Baleren suspected the sergeant had served somewhere more.... active, than this small trade village
"You there, with the axe, help me to the wall" An old man leaning on a gnarled cane called to him.
"what do you want on the wall old man? it's likely just bandits, go home"
"You can help me up or I can climb on my own and give you a good thump you impertinent whelp. No one ever teach you to respect your elders?"
Baleren sighed and descended the stairs to help the old man up. The man's grip on his forearm was firmer than he had expected, and while he was slow, he had the feel of a fighter in his gait.
"Perhaps I should be glad I didn't take that thump from you."
"haha, count yerself lucky, more'n one soldier here can tell you they hurt more than you'd think"
The two of them reached the wall. The guards were murmuring amongst themselves nervously. While the backwater town had never seen a major battle, the guards had faced bandits before, and bandits fought dirty. Something about this particular murmur didn't sit well with Baleren. A sharp intake of breath next to him as they reached the crude crenelations made him look at the old man.
For all his old warrior airs fear passed through the mans eyes as Baleren looked at him. He looked back over the crenelations, the horsemen were closing faster than they should have been. He began to understand why the guards had been nervously whispering now. Despite the fact that the riders were much closer, something that should have been impossible in the time that had passed, they were still too difficult to see to make out. Their only distinctive feature was the black of their uniforms. It seemed to fade through greys and blues all without ever being anything other than black.
"Shadow gate riders" the old man said softly.
"Open the gate! quickly!" he stumbled to the sergeant half ordering half pleading.
"Get away old man, they're probably raiders looking for easy spoils. We'll show them we are not a soft target"
"You're a fool! Those are Shadow Gate Riders! They'll pay about as much attention to that gate as a breeze would chainmail. At least if the gates are open they will know we have nothing to hide."
The nervous whispering rose to a chatter, the riders were moving more swiftly than anything Baleren had ever seen, he almost couldn't look away, they seemed to flow like water. He realized that the reason the formation seemed so alien was because it shifted. It wasn't just a simple loose skirmish formation but it seemed as if the riders didn't need to heed how close they were to their brethren, and sometimes he could swear he saw one rider pass clean through another. The thunder of hooves became the thunder of the sea as they approached.
"Sarge, they're not slowing down sarge" One of the guards managed to get out before the riders charged straight through the gate like and evil wind. They hammered through the city streets and out the other side of the town, but not before five riders broke off and reined in their horses in front of the village square.
The guards poured off the wall as the sergeant bellowed orders. What guards failed to slip away in the chaos followed the sergeants orders and surrounded the towns unexpected guests. Baleren joined the gathering villagers on the village square. The lead rider, walked his horse a few steps forward, a black stallion, eyes of jet with unshod hooves. Then... something happened, the rider and the horse... seemed to merge. The black beast seemed to become part of his cloak, as the rider simply went from astride to standing in a smooth motion.
This started a chatter amongst the villagers as well as the guards this time, and some of the more survival inclined villagers began to make their way slowly back to their homes.
"We are looking for a man" He said in the harsh language of the empire. "He is about ye tall, probably dressed in torn clothes though he may have stolen a change somewhere. He looks like this" he said as he held up a sketch on a parchment scroll.
The riders face was hidden behind cowl, he might have even been wearing a helm, Baleren couldn't tell. The man, assuming it was a man, was wearing clothes of a somber cut, apparently made of whatever material his cloak was made of.
Baleren leaned close to the old man, letting the crowd between them and the riders mask his words.
"You've seen these men before?"
"These men? Only if they are a far more fearsome thing than even the nightmare I saw. But yes, I have seen Shadow Gate Riders before. The emperor uses them to hunt the highest of criminals or threats. He has used them in war once or twice, but only when he can keep the number of people that see them to a minimum. My unit saw them when I was fighting for him. It's the day I decided to leave..."
"What happened?"
"The enemy general had taken to the field with a small cadre of mages and his elite bodyguard. Flanked by sweeping chariots on either side we were unable to reach him, but he was destroying our center line and opening us for a flank that would have crushed us if we had had 30 times his numbers. The Shadow Gate Riders came from behind. They drove through our own ranks, not trampling men, but doing something much worse, it seemed almost like they stole the very life from them as they rode through. When they hit his sheild wall they just kept going, their officer's tore the souls from his men as they rode, the rest merely slaughtered the remaining soldiers. The guard broke almost immediately, they had no chance and they knew it. The riders hunted every last man of them down and killed them. None so much as reached the treeline for cover. Then the riders turned to us. Three of their officers ... dismounted, much as you can call it dismounting, and approached the three remaining battalions. They told us that we were to keep quiet about them lest the enemy gain an advantage. But we knew what they were really saying."
"That they would kill you if you talked."
The old man nodded slowly.
"So why are you talking now?"
"People should know. I'm not as fearful of death as I once was, and you seems like someone that might be able to carry this secret well."
Baleren's attention was momentarily drawn back to the center of the crowd as the rider remounted, his cloak flowing smoothly into a black steed once again.
"Sweep the town" he told his men, almost so quietly that Baleren couldn't hear him.
The other four riders wheeled their mounts to face four opposing corners and spurred them, their mounts rearing and opening a path through the villagers which they promptly galloped down. As they disappeared around, or sometimes through, buildings; the officer steered his mount toward where Baleren and the old man stood.
"You," he said, pointing at the old man. "You have seen our kind before. I can read it in your eyes."
"I have. You're point?"
"It seems your age has made you bold, or have you always been such a fool?"
"Took me years to get to be this foolish, what do you want?"
"What I want is the man I am after, at the moment I merely amuse myself while my men sweep the town. Where have you seen us before?"
"Gerrid's plain, some 45 years ago, you saved a battle that would otherwise have been lost."
"I was not there, though we are taught of it. You have continued following your orders from that day?"
"I have."
There was a pause as the shadowy cowl remained fixed on the old man, the villagers all seemed to be holding their breath and time seemed to slow. The weighty atmosphere was broken as the four other riders returned at a trot. They gathered close to the officer and whispered. The officer nodded and turned his horse back to the old man as the four others galloped after the main column that had passed through earlier.
"I do not believe you old man, but I have far too pressing matters to deal with it now. You will see us again." And with that the last rider spurred his mount and bolted through the gate at the far end of town.
Night was beginning to fall and Baleren decided that tonight was a night for a drink, or eight.