With a savage thrust and two quick slashes, he slew a final two rams and was suddenly free of the press of bodies, his horse picking up speed as it raced away from the battle. He looked back to see how the others had fared and was pleased to see the formation was reasonably intact. The wedge had pulled apart in some places and he could see several wounded and slain who had been left behind, but the number of vertaga that lay dead or dying far outnumbered those few unfortunate souls.
“We can’t sustain another charge like that,” the rider on Relam’s left barked. “We need a new strategy, your majesty.”
“Arrowhead formations,” Relam replied swiftly. “Groups of twenty, four rotations.”
“Standard practice is three.”
“Four will give the horses more time to rest.”
“Very well. Four it is.”
The knight turned and barked orders to the other mounted warriors and the large formation fractured into nearly thirty groups. When the groups resolved themselves into smaller arrowheads, they split into four lines, each with seven or eight of the small arrowheads. Relam himself hung back, watching for the moment. The first row of arrowheads turned and charged the vertaga ranks, the second following a moment later, then the third and the fourth. As the charge of the first rank petered out, the second rank swarmed into the gap, driving deeper into the vertaga army while the first rank withdrew to regroup. As Relam watched the attack, four riders joined him from the side.
“This is better,” Galen grunted, “Having you out of the way instead of on the front lines.”
Relam scowled. “You should still be in the fortress! You’re not cavalry!”
“Neither are you,” Eric pointed out.
“Yet here we all are,” Wil said, grinning. “The lads are doing good work, aren’t they?”
“For now,” Relam murmured. “They will tire soon, or the vertaga will decide to do something about them. When that happens – ”
“We need to withdraw,” Galen finished. “Quickly.”
A high, clear howl rang across the battlefield, penetrating the rest of the cacophony and sending a chill rippling down Relam’s spine. A ripple ran through the vertaga ranks, and he saw flashes of fur and heavy, four-legged forms through the fray.
“Oh no,” he murmured. “Lutags.”
“Call the cavalry back!” Galen said urgently.
“How?” Relam demanded, looking around desperately.
“Signal as many of the arrowheads as you can,” Eric replied. “Where’s a bloody horn when you need it?”
Relam waved his arms overhead while Wil and Johann rode towards the battle, shouting their warning. As they did, shaggy forms exploded from the vertaga ranks, launching themselves at horses and sending them tumbling to the ground, powerful jaws and heavy paws mauling steed and rider alike. The screams of riders and the terrified cries of doomed men replaced the thunder of hoof beats, and the coordinated attack dissolved before Relam’s eyes.
“Get them out of there!” the young king shouted to his guards, his voice cracking with the strain. “Then get us out of here!”
He turned in the saddle, searching for the Keepers, hoping to see them returning to the fight. But they were far away now, glittering shapes battling high in the sky. “Hurry up, Khollo,” he murmured. “Our time’s almost up.”
Chapter 48:
Captive and Keepers
Are we far enough now? Kanin grunted, kicking at Zanove again and forcing the silver dragon back.
Khollo glanced back at the West Bank, now more than a mile behind them. This will do. Begin phase two.
Phase two! Kanin roared to the others.
Instantly, Thela and L’tel abandoned their position and charged Zanove, yelling as one. The silver dragon turned to face them, snarling in reply. The moment he turned, Amang and Halena charged as well, followed a few seconds later by Uthano and Sven, all closing from different directions.
L’tel thrust with his spear but missed as Thela darted past Zanove’s clutching claws and whipping tail. But Halena landed a blow with her staff, smacking it into Garnuk’s helm with a dull bonk! As the vertag twisted to identify this new assailant, Uthano swooped in from another direction, giving Sven the opportunity to swing his axe at Garnuk’s unprotected back. The blow connected, crashing against the Ramshuk’s armor, but it did no serious damage.
Garnuk roared in protest, whirling around, and an arrow lodged in his shoulder, slipping between two plates. Khollo turned, grinning, and saluted Aralye. The huntress nodded grimly in reply and knocked another arrow as L’tel and Thela dove into the fray again. Kanin meanwhile harried the silver dragon from above and below, never attacking but cutting the Captive off every time he tried to escape. Ayrmi was constantly changing positions as well, filling in gaps in the line and finding good angles for Aralye to shoot from.
They fought as a well-oiled team, like they had been born for this. Khollo felt like little more than a spectator, managing the battle from afar with curt instructions or words of advice. It was the others doing all the work. L’tel, Halena, and Sven were striking too suddenly for Garnuk to react and never engaging, flashing past and getting out of danger before he could retaliate. The silver dragon meanwhile was floundering, trying to react to each attack and failing miserably. On his back, Garnuk was lashing out wildly, trying to land a lucky blow with his blade. Every so often one of Aralye’s arrows would strike him, but few penetrated. Not even Sven’s axe or L’tel’s spear were having much of an effect, and Halena’s staff was little more than an annoyance.
It’s working for now, Kanin observed. They cannot fight effectively like this.
Neither can we, Khollo replied worriedly. We’ve hardly made a dent in the rider’s armor, and Zanove shows no signs of weakening. Meanwhile, the West Bank is in a tight spot and we’re no closer to dealing with these two and ending the fight!
We may have to hurt Zanove.
No, Khollo replied grimly. He is being made to fight, enslaved by that vertag. We have to rescue him, not kill him.
That may not be possible.
Can it be done?
Eventually. Maybe, Kanin replied doubtfully.
We don’t have time for eventually!
Then find a new plan, Kanin suggested. Quickly!
Any ideas?
That’s your job, I’m busy making sure we contain Zanove and his rider. You should also realize that one of us might make a mistake and we will lose containment again.
I know.
Then what’s the new plan?
I’m thinking!
Khollo racked his brains, looking for any desperate strategy, any cunning idea that would tip the balance. Everything he came up with was risky, and none seemed likely to work. Finally, he realized there was only one way he could accomplish both of his goals, rescuing Zanove and stopping Garnuk.
We need to separate those two.
And how do you propose we do that? Kanin demanded.
Drive Zanove towards the ground, slowly, Khollo instructed, but keep up our attacks.
What are you planning?
Not sure yet, just do as I say.
The vertag is strapped to his back, Khollo, he isn’t going anywhere.
Will those straps burn?
Kanin paused, considering. Maybe. With enough heat.
Then I want fire around that dragon constantly, Khollo decided. Whenever one of the others swoops in, I want to see an inferno.
Our supply of fire is not endless you know.
Don’t care. Use what you have, and let me know when the others are running out of strength. That’s when we’ll make our move.
What is our move?
Still working on that.
Work faster.
Khollo scowled and blocked the dragon out, studying the situation. Kanin must have relayed his suggestion because now Zanove and his rider were constantly being besieged by dragon fire. Due to the heat of the flames, Halena, L’tel, and Sven couldn’t attack with their own weapon
s anymore, but it mattered little since Garnuk could not fight either with the fire swirling around him. Instead, the Ramshuk was crouched low over Zanove’s back, face down, shouting at the silver dragon, his sword clutched in one hand.
As he watched Garnuk clinging to Zanove’s back, Khollo’s idea continued to develop in his mind. It was possible . . . certainly viable . . . but risky. Very risky.
Is Aralye still shooting? Khollo asked suddenly.
No, Kanin replied, it is too dangerous. With all the flames, her visibility is very poor.
Then have Ayrmi join in the fight, Khollo suggested. Ask her to try and strike precisely at the straps securing the saddle.
They will do their best, Kanin reported after a short pause. Aralye is doubtful the straps will burn through though. They may weaken, but it will still take a significant force to break them.
That’s fine.
What are you planning?
You don’t need to know yet.
Kanin looked back at Khollo sharply. I don’t like the sound of that.
Relax. Get me close to Sven, within shouting distance.
Why?
Just do it.
Kanin adjusted his course, moving to intercept Sven and Uthano. The crimson dragon swooped, blasted Zanove with fire, then streaked towards Khollo and Kanin.
“Sven!” Khollo shouted. “Shield!”
“What?” the northerner demanded, frowning.
“Throw me your shield!”
“Oh.” Sven frowned. “Why?” he asked as Uthano turned for another pass.
“I need it for the new plan,” Khollo replied.
Uthano plunged, struck, and climbed again, flying right over Kanin. As he did, Khollo looked up and saw Sven reluctantly drop his shield. The wide circle of metal and wood rotated twice, then landed in Khollo’s outstretched arms, dragging him sideways. The young Keeper grunted in surprise at the weight and quickly righted himself, settling the shield on his left arm. Then, he detached the two halves of the Sen-teel and sheathed one, keeping the other in his right hand.
What are you planning? Kanin asked again.
You’ll see.
Why won’t you tell me?
Khollo took a deep breath. Because it’s dangerous, and I’m not sure you would approve.
Try me.
No. This is our best shot, and I’m not giving you a chance to stop me. Call Ayrmi over, will you.
Kanin was silent for a moment, transmitting the message. Ayrmi is coming. Uthano is warning us the others cannot sustain this wall of fire much longer.
Do we have two minutes?
Probably.
That will be enough.
Ayrmi darted out of the confused tangle of smoke and flame, Aralye perched on her back. The girl’s face was streaked with soot and bright red from the heat, but she looked unharmed. “You wanted to see me?” she called, clutching her bow.
Khollo nodded. “Yes. In a minute, I’m going to take Garnuk out of the fight.”
“Take him – how?”
“Don’t worry about how,” Khollo said quickly. “Just trust me. Anyway, I need you to lead the others and trap Zanove with Kanin’s help. Drive him to the ground and subdue him, away from Garnuk and me. With five dragons against one, you should be able to manage.”
“What are you doing?”
“Aralye!” Khollo said sharply. “I asked you to trust me. Can you do what I have asked? Can you help subdue the silver dragon and lead the others?”
The huntress hesitated, then nodded. “Whatever you need.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath. “The fact that I have you here to handle things is the only reason I can risk doing this. If this doesn’t work, know that I’m proud of you. All of you.”
“What do you mean if this doesn’t work?” Aralye shouted back, her voice rising in alarm.
Kanin, fly over Zanove, reasonably close.
As you wish.
The emerald dragon climbed above Zanove, then swooped towards the silver dragon side on, aiming to skim across his back. Khollo gripped the Sen-teel, judging distances and angles. Then, he slashed the loops securing his legs in two short strokes and leapt from Kanin’s back, tucking himself into a ball behind Sven’s oversized shield. He heard Kanin’s bugle of alarm, Aralye’s scream, the cries of the other Keepers.
Then, he felt an enormous impact as he slammed into the huge vertag side on.
For a moment, they were both on the silver dragon. Then, Khollo’s momentum carried them over to Zanove’s far side. The straps securing Garnuk’s saddle groaned, then snapped and both warriors were falling, Khollo on top of Garnuk, the snow-covered ground rushed up to meet them, now thirty feet away, now twenty.
As they fell, Khollo rammed the Sen-teel against Garnuk’s body repeatedly, trying to find gaps in the armor. He found one or two and they elicited bellows of pain, then Garnuk managed to kick him away.
The blow stunned Khollo for a moment, but it also slowed his downward plunge, giving him a slight amount of lift. Just before he hit the ground, Khollo folded himself behind Sven’s round shield again, bracing for impact.
The young Keeper plunged into a massive snow bank, sinking in the powdery crystals until he hit the harder ground underneath. He rolled, gasping as his left shoulder and both knees flared with pain. The knees were only bruised, but the shoulder felt worse, dislocated, maybe. He rolled over and over in the snow for several meters before coming to a stop, staring up at the sky.
* * *
They had succeeded in pulling many of the riders back, but that had not stopped the lutags. Relam and his guards were now riding at the head of their beleaguered force, stampeding back to the southern gate of the West Bank as quickly as possible, hoping to outrun the baying beasts from hell that pursued them.
“Well, we helped some,” Galen grunted from beside Relam. “But the battle is far from turned.”
Relam scowled at him. “It’s also far from over. All we need are the Keepers to come help.”
“Where are they?”
The young king glanced up at the sky, searching for the dragons. He found them easily, surrounded by fire, the light reflecting from their scales. But as he watched, a dark shape seemed to drop out of the battle, plummeting towards the ground. The shape separated into two, then was lost to sight as it approached the ground.
“Did you see that?” Relam demanded.
“What?” Galen asked, looking back at the wolves.
“The Keepers! Somebody fell!” Relam started to turn his horse but Galen grabbed the reins.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“If that was one of ours, we have to help them,” Relam shouted. “They could be hurt, wounded, dying. Or, it could have been Garnuk! Even now he could be lying in the snow, stunned, waiting to be finished off. I’m going to investigate.”
“Oh no, you’re not!”
“Yes, I am,” Relam countered. “You can’t stop me. And you’re going to get the rest of these men back to the fortress.” He raised his right arm, then slammed the flat of his blade into the rump of Galen’s horse. The startled creature increased its pace, running headlong on a straight course, while Relam veered sharply to the south and east, towards where the distant figures had fallen.
* * *
Khollo lay flat on his back, stunned by his fall, mildly concussed from tumbling across the ground. Fortunately, he could still see the battle above from his prone position, and what he saw was encouraging indeed. Kanin and the others were keeping Zanove far away, driving him towards the ground, hemming him in. Any moment now the silver dragon would be forced to land, and it would be all but over.
The young Keeper smiled to himself, groaning quietly. He’d done it. He had separated Garnuk from the dragon. The Captive was freed and would soon be subdued. The vertag would be wounded by the fall, maybe even crippled.
He heard the crunching sound of a heavy body moving in the snow and sat up, looking towards the sound. Garnuk was only a few met
ers away, stirring feebly. His helm was gone, but he still clutched his sword. As Khollo watched, the Ramshuk struggled to both knees, then rose on one, looking around. He saw Khollo and his eyes flashed malevolently. Baring his fangs, Garnuk lurched to his feet, advancing on the downed Keeper, half dragging his left leg.
“You . . . you will die,” he growled. “You ruined everything a year ago, Keeper. You tore them away from me in my moment of victory, and now you are trying to thwart me again. All I have built and worked for, and you and your Keepers are still a thorn in my side.”
Khollo made no reply, scrabbling in the snow for the Sen-teel, working quickly to connect the two halves. Snow had partially filled the socket though, and in his haste he had misaligned the threads. He frantically unscrewed the assembly and cleared it, then tried putting the halves together again. Garnuk was nearly on him now, obviously wounded but no less dangerous to a young man lying flat on his back in the snow.
Then, he became aware of a muffled sound, rapid impacts on the snowy landscape. Khollo desperately finished attaching the Sen-teel and shoved himself away from Garnuk, sliding across the ground in an attempt to buy space and time. As the Keeper struggled to his knees, shoulder flaring with pain, the Ramshuk raised his silver blade for the kill, grinning maliciously.
“No more will you haunt me,” he growled. “I take my revenge, Keeper.”
As the blade started to descend, a wild yell shattered the tableau and Garnuk whirled around in time to be struck head on by a galloping horse. The Ramshuk was knocked down, but he managed to slash the horse with his sword as it plunged past. The beast screamed and went down, spilling its rider. The young man rolled to his feet deftly, raising his sword and lifting Khollo by his wounded shoulder.
The Captive Page 64