Hooves battered the earth as forty-three horses surged up the mountainside. Their riders called out, taunting and flailing their weapons with furious intent. The few with bows were already issuing a flurry of arrows at the wyvern, who stood unmoved on the cliff’s edge.
Ahead of them all rode Roland, silent and with a stern face. He was well aware of the impending bloodshed, for he was once a captain who led men into the fray of battle with Illian by his side as his lieutenant. He’d charged many times under the flag of the crown, and each time was as gruesome as the last. This would be no different, apart from his foe being the Fury of Bristov.
As his horse galloped, he lifted his sword and pointed to a path that led upward. Illian, now close behind, did the same but pointed to another route. The forces split, following each man up the mountain, as separation was in their battle design.
Rahan saw this and dove from the ridge, lengthening his body to resemble a falling dart. He plunged along the cliff face before extending his wings and arcing his body toward the sky.
A spark flared from his mouth as he veered toward Roland’s forces, and out of it flowed a torrent of fire that swirled down onto the riders. The flames halved the group, leaving those unfortunate souls caught in the middle screaming as fire consumed their bodies.
“Press forward!” Roland shouted as men and women looked back at their comrades in horror. There were no longer any discernible features between what was once a horse and what was once a human. “With me!” He cried out, and the group resumed, but Rahan would soon return.
Their horses struggled as they navigated the steep slopes, making an easy second assault for the banking wyvern.
“Here it comes!” a fellow rider yelled as Rahan swooped low, releasing another barrage of flames. Six more riders fell away, screaming in agony as their bodies tumbled down the cliffside and were beaten on the rocks.
Roland couldn’t help but look back. He’d seen many terrible things in his days as a soldier, but nothing like this. He spurred his horse and continued upward, shaking the dreadful sight from his head. The others continued alongside him. Some had lost their horses in the steep terrain and were clawing at the gravel just to keep pace.
Yet again, Rahan banked and fell back into a low glide. This time, he extended his talons and reached for those climbing the cliffs. A man turned, his pitchfork waving in the air. After stabbing it deep into Rahan’s reaching feet, he scurried up a rock, only to be plucked from it. A savage crunch was heard as the wyvern bit down, separating his torso in two and flinging his remaining body far off into the trees.
“Javelins!” Illian called out, and a line of horsemen rode to the cliff’s edge, wielding sharp-tipped spears. While Rahan tormented Roland’s riders, Illian’s men had reached the cliff near the cave’s mouth. “Release!”
The men heaved their weapons into the air, and they soared across the sky before finding their mark. Several punctured Rahan’s wings, while a sparse few managed to pierce more vulnerable areas. One plunged into his shoulder, another into his foot. A third penetrated deep into the side of his abdomen. The rest either missed or ricocheted off the hard scales on his back.
Rahan howled and hissed as he fell to the ground with collapsed wings.
“Javelins!” Illian urged again, but now they‘d gained the beast’s full attention. As the line of throwers readied a second volley, the wyvern sucked in more air and unleashed a firestorm along the cliffside.
“Into the cave!” Illian screamed before rearing his horse behind a rocky buttress. But for many, it was too late.
Horses and men toppled over one another as their skin seared away. Some died where they stood. Others ran about frantically, only to fall over the cliff’s edge and hurdle down the mountainside in a blazing inferno.
Roland, having finally scaled the ridge, grabbed a bow from one of the few riders left and nocked an arrow. As the wyvern continued to release its fiery onslaught, he aimed at its mouth and released.
The arrow struck Rahan, piercing through the skin and becoming lodged in his cheek. The fire finally ceased, only to be replaced by a seething glare. The beast pulled away to remove the javelins lodged in his flesh, giving the remaining riders a moment to withdraw.
“Quick, into the cave!” Illian yelled again, and the remaining forces fled into the cave’s refuge. Roland entered, observing the creature’s lair. It expanded into a wide chamber, where rolling dunes disappeared deep into the shadows alongside a flowing stream. The sound of falling water in the distance echoed from the walls, making the area feel even more expansive.
“Father?” A voice came from behind a boulder leaning on the cave wall. “Father, is that you?”
“Sofia.” Roland dismounted his horse and ran to embrace his daughter as a flood of joy and gratitude overcame him. “You’re okay. Thank the light, you’re okay.”
“I’m okay, father. He was protecting me.” She pointed over her father’s shoulder and he turned to see Rahan entering the cave.
His eyes were wild with rage as he bit down into the arrow Roland had shot through his cheek.
To be continued…
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