Wake up.

Borisin’s cold nose was against his face. Opening his eyes, Rudiger glared. “What?”

There’s a strange scent in the air.

Rudiger sat up and looked around. Near to him, Meleng, quite awake, glared up at the underside of the horse standing over him. Beyond, the hobbled horses paced about nervously. Sam was still on watch. He was standing on the driver’s seat, his bow strung and an arrow nocked, gazing around him. He must have noticed the horses, but probably thought it was just wolves or other wild animals.

The scent is getting closer. Look out!

“Ambush!” Rudiger yelled.

Flames surrounded him. Borisin reared back, his mane afire. Rudiger rolled to douse any flames that might be on himself. All around him, he heard the sounds of more explosions. People yelling. Horses screaming.

“Merrin! Siltons! Orcan! Perimeter around Felitïa and the boy! Nothing gets passed us!”

“I can’t see anything!”

“Tarson, Fonivan, Drago, are you all right? Where’s Jorvan?”

Rudiger tried to respond, but there was smoke in his lungs. In his eyes, too.

“Armida, check on Sam!”

“Above us!”

The smoke shifted rapidly as a great gushing wind swept over Rudiger. There was the swoosh of massive, flapping wings, and the clash of steel. As his vision finally started to clear, he caught sight of them, flying away at the moment, but turning wide for another pass. “Hell,” he muttered. It wasn’t just one Volg this time. There must have been a dozen of them at least. No, definitely more. They were in a v-formation. Like a flock of birds.

Captain DeSeloön, Hang, Greminy, and Stavan were standing in a circle around Felitïa and Corvinian. Everyone looked dirty and a little burnt, but otherwise unharmed. Borisin! Rudiger scrambled to his feet. His horse was rolling on the ground. The flames were out now, but his mane had almost entirely burnt away, as had much of the hair on his neck and part of his back. Several of the other horses were still on fire and it was likely many of them would not survive. But there was no time to worry about that now. The Volgs were coming back.

“Armida, Tarson! On my order!” DeSeloön cried.

Rudiger looked over to the wagon, just as Zandrue loosed an arrow. It was too dark to track the arrow, but the lead Volg wavered—but didn’t fall.

“I said on my order, Armida!”

Zandrue scowled and nocked another arrow. Beside her, Sam had an arrow ready. There was a gash on his forehead, and blood was trickling down his cheek.

“Ready!” DeSeloön cried. The Volgs were getting closer. “Loose!”

Rudiger drew Slay as the two arrows arced out. The Volg at the front fell out of the sky, as did the first one to the right. Then the Volgs were upon them, one wing of the V swooping over them. DeSeloön and his men clashed swords with the Volgs as they flew past. Felitïa and Corvinian huddled in the middle. Rudiger readied himself for when they reached him. He swung Slay. Over and over. Fighting the force of wind from their wings. But they were already flying too high again. Slay connected only with air.

Two of the Volgs from the other wing had landed in a confused muddle. One of them was lying in the snow still flapping his wings, while the other stumbled about clutching his head.

“Now!” Felitïa cried.

“Loose!”

Two arrows whizzed past Rudiger, hitting home in the two Volgs. Their movements stopped.

“Fonivan!” DeSeloön cried. “Get over here! Drago, take cover at the wagon! Where is Jorvan?”

Meleng scrambled to his feet and ran for the wagon. Rudiger ran to the group surrounding Felitïa and took his place in the circle, Stavan to his right and Hang to his left. Borisin was also getting to his feet. Go, Rudiger told him. You’re too injured to do any good here. Borisin stood there. The Volgs were circling around again.

“Archers, ready!” DeSeloön yelled.

I said go! Rudiger repeated. Borisin made a last defiant snort and galloped off.

“Loose!”

Two arrows shot out, but only one Volg fell this time.

And then the Volgs were over them again. In all Rudiger’s training and experience, he had never had to deal with attacks from the air before. Each target was only there a moment. A blur of horns, wings, and glinting steel. It was hard on his arms to swing so high. And unbalancing. Slay connected with one though, tearing through wing membrane and crushing bones. The Volg crashed to the ground, the momentum almost pulling Rudiger down too. Then they’d passed again.

“I only got one this time,” Felitïa said. “Over there.”

One of the Volgs was sitting on the ground. He seemed to be trying to get up, but his legs weren’t moving. “Loose!” DeSeloön cried. Both arrows thudded side by side into the Volg’s head between the horns. The Volg fell back over.

“You’re doing well, my lady,” DeSeloön said. “Private, you all right?”

Rudiger glanced at Stavan beside him. There was a long gash down his right arm, and the snow at his feet was turning red. “I’ve had girlfriends give me worse, sir,” Stavan quipped.

“Sir, they’re breaking formation!” Greminy said. Sure enough, the Volgs were landing some distance away.

“Excellent,” DeSeloön responded. “Had to tire eventually. Everyone, to the wagon. We’ll meet them there.”

They ran. Meleng, already lying under the wagon, helped pull Corvinian under with him. “You too, my lady,” DeSeloön said to Felitïa.

Felitïa shook her head and stood her ground. “No, I’ll face them. You could use my help.”

“My lady, my job is to protect you. Let me do that job.”

Felitïa looked as if she were about to protest again, but then gave up and slid underneath the wagon. The rest of them took positions circling the wagon, Sam and Zandrue at the front, Stavan the rear. Hang and Greminy were along the side facing the road, while Rudiger and DeSeloön took the opposite side, facing the Volgs.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Keep your backs to the wagon at all times,” DeSeloön barked. “They may have us outnumbered, but they will not get to use those numbers to their advantage.”

“Sir, I see Jorvan!” Hang cried. Rudiger had to turn to see what he was referring to, but unfortunately, the wagon provided too much of an obstacle.

“Keep your attention to the front of you, Fonivan!” DeSeloön snapped and Rudiger resumed his proper position. “Merrin, what’s Jorvan doing?”

“I’m not sure, sir. He was only in sight for a moment. He’s in that little valley on the other side of the road. Wait! There he is again. It’s like a storm over there. He’s fighting two Volgs, sir. A magical battle, I think.”

“Two Volg wizards?” DeSeloön said.

“No!” Corvinian screamed.

“Hey, kid!” Hang yelled. “Don’t! Get back here!”

“Corvinian!” Felitïa yelled.

“No, my lady! You mustn’t!”

“Sir!” Greminy said. “The boy took off, surrounded by a blue glow. Felitïa’s followed him.”

“Damn!”

In the distance, the Volgs began moving, some flying low, others running. “They’re charging!” Rudiger yelled.

“Tarson, Armida, at your discretion, take out as many of them as you can before they get here! Merrin, Siltons, get Felitïa and the boy. We’ll hold as many of them here as possible! Watch out for those wizards! Go!”

Two at a time, numerous arrows shot out. Rudiger wasn’t sure just how many before the Volgs were upon them. At least two Volgs dropped and he was glad to note that their numbers were dwindling. How many were left now? Seven? Eight?

To his side, Zandrue tossed aside her bow and drew her sword. Then the Volgs were there. A huge one, bigger than the wizard he had fought before, barrelled down on him. It swung a huge broadsword the size of Slay at him. Rudiger blocked it, but the force of the blow was staggering. He was not used to not having the strength advantage.

Their swords clashed together again, and Rudiger tried to push forward to knock the Volg back, but it was the Volg that pushed him. His back collided painfully with the wagon. The Volg’s sword swung round and Rudiger blocked again. And again. And again. He was getting a feel for the Volg’s attacks. Almost always from the same direction. Predictable. As the Volg came at him once more, he brought Slay round at what he hoped was the right trajectory, trusting in his sword’s sharpness. The swords clashed and Slay cut right through the other blade. Weaponless, the Volg stepped back. Rudiger swung again and cut the Volg in half.

Zandrue fell in front of him, her sword sliding under the wagon. Rudiger turned to attack the Volg that had knocked her over. Slay grazed the Volg’s hip. Only a superficial wound. The Volg’s blow came in high. Rudiger raised Slay to block. Another Volg was coming round to his left. The blow slammed into his side, smashing him against the wagon, though his armour stopped the blade from cutting in.

Another gush of wind preceded a thud and a shaking of the wagon. Rudiger scrambled to bring Slay round for another block, but he was too slow. A Volg’s sword connected with his left shoulder, cutting through the mail and pushing him against the side of the wagon. He began to feel as if his back might snap. He could see the wings of the Volg standing on the wagon. Turning around, the beast snarled down at him, raised his sword.

A loud horse’s whinny startled the Volg, who paused. Then the Volgs besieging Rudiger on the ground were gone, one flying out of the way, the other crumpling under Borisin’s hooves. With his powerful hind legs, Borisin kicked a third Volg that Rudiger hadn’t even seen. Rudiger pulled himself away from the wagon.

“Now, Drago!” DeSeloön cried.

Various sacks and chests on the wagon sprung open, spewing their contents through the air. The two Volgs on the wagon batted at the fabrics and cloths spilling over them. As one, DeSeloön and Stavan drove their swords up, each into one of the flailing Volgs.

Above you!

Rudiger raised Slay just in time to cut into the flying Volg right between the horns. The impact wrenched Slay out of his hands. The Volg spun wildly for a moment, then crashed into the wagon.

“That’ll be one nasty headache!” Stavan quipped.

Rudiger surveyed the surroundings. That seemed to be all of them. Only one Volg was still moving. The one Borisin had trampled twitched in spasms. The wings were crumpled and he had obviously suffered multiple broken bones. DeSeloön drove his sword through the Volg’s neck and the spasms stopped. Rudiger was reminded of his own wound, the pain of which was now very apparent. He was fairly certain nothing was broken, but wetness was seeping down his chest. At least he hadn’t been trampled like—

Zandrue! She’d been lying in that same area. Had Borisin trampled her? No, she wasn’t there.

“Foniva, Orcan, Armida, with me,” DeSeloön commanded. “Drago, tend to Tarson.”

Rudiger sighed with relief as Zandrue climbed out from under the wagon. Although she was wet and dirty, she looked unharmed. Meleng followed her out and rushed round to the front. Sam lay there face down, unmoving, the snow around him darkening. Rudiger couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive.

Rudiger retrieved Slay, and followed DeSeloön across the road to the edge of the slope. At the bottom, Jorvan stood on the beach, the waters of Lake Belone raging behind him. Beside him, Felitïa huddled over a glowing Corvinian. Hang and Greminy stood in front of the them, weapons raised.

Part way up the hill, another Volg stood, arms outstretched in front of him. He was surrounded by dancing sparks of energy, much like Corvinian’s, but yellow in colour. Streams of fire sprang from the Volg’s fingertips, shot through the air at Jorvan. Behind the Isyar, a massive wave formed, threatening to splash down on him, Felitïa and the others. But instead, the wave leapt over them, connecting instead with the stream of flames and dousing it.

“Orcan, Armida, deal with the trapped one,” DeSeloön said.

Trapped one? Down the hill to Rudiger’s right was another Volg. This one was dressed in thick, black robes like the one in Mesone had worn and had some sort of gold medallion round his neck. In one hand he held a dagger and was chipping frantically at a block of ice that encased his legs. In his other hand, he held a glowing white orb just like the one in Mesone. Two wizards, Hang had said.

“Move in quickly, try to take him by surprise.”

“We won’t,” Zandrue said. “He’ll smell us first.”

“Then do what you have to,” DeSeloön replied. “Be careful of that orb. I don’t know what it is, but it can’t be good. Fonivan, with me.” DeSeloön led Rudiger to the left along the top of the slope until they were directly over the yellow-glowing Volg. The flames had changed to sharpened spikes, but the waters of the lake still knocked them aside.

“Your sword will cut through his shield?” Captain DeSeloön asked.

Rudiger shrugged. “Maybe. It did for the one in Mesone, but that one wasn’t glowing. And it knocked me back.”

“Then I expect you to grunt and bear it. Hopefully, he’s preoccupied with Jorvan, so you can get up to him. I’ll be right alongside you.”

The Volg spread his wings.

“Now, Rudiger! Before he gets away!”

Rudiger drew Slay and charged. He wasn’t sure how he kept his footing on the slippery surface, but he did. He was just about upon the Volg when a slab of stone materialised in front of him.

“Rudiger! Look out!”

He tried to stop, but there was too much snow and ice. He collided face first with the wall, and slid to his knees. Blood ran down over his lips and chin.

The Volg flapped his great wings and took flight.

DeSeloön bent down beside Rudiger. “You all right?”

“Nose is broken, I think,” Rudiger mumbled.

From the right, a gut-wrenching scream pierced the air. Both he and DeSeloön looked in its direction. The other Volg was free of the ice. A figure, too far away to discern who, lay on the ground, while another one—Zandrue maybe?—leapt at the Volg, knocking the orb out of his hands.

“Come,” DeSeloön said. They crawled to the side of the stone slab and peered down the slope.

The yellow Volg was coming in over the water towards Jorvan, spikes still firing from his fingertips. As Jorvan used his spells to knock them aside, another stone slab appeared in the air over his head. The Isyar waved his arms and a wind shot up from the ground to blow the slab aside. The Volg flew over and past Jorvan, flipping as he did so. Flames shot from his fingers again right into Jorvan’s side. Jorvan fell into the water and the stone slab crashed to the ground almost on top of Felitïa and the others. The Volg landed and turned towards them.

“Let’s go!” DeSeloön said. “We try it again!”

Rudiger pulled himself wearily to his feet and charged again. Hang and Greminy also charged the Volg from the other side, reaching him first. There was an explosion of yellow energy as their swords collided with the shield. Both men were hurled through the air to land beside Felitïa and Corvinian on the beach. Yellow sparks still danced around their unmoving forms.

Rudiger raised Slay high and brought it down with as much force as he could manage. He felt it impact something and then cut through, but the explosion of energy threw him backwards. Not as far as it had Hang and Greminy, though. And he landed still conscious.

DeSeloön was immediately in there. His sword cut into the Volg’s side. With a roar, the Volg spun round, batting DeSeloön with his wing. The Captain stumbled and the Volg hit him across the side of his face. DeSeloön fell over. He started to pull himself back up, but a savage kick from the Volg left him lying still.

Struggling against the overwhelming pain, Rudiger forced himself back up. Forced his protesting arms to raise his sword one more time. The Volg was approaching Felitïa and Corvinian. The Princess’s face was scrunched in concentration, hands clenching and unclenching. But the Volg continued his approach unaffected. The blue energy around Corvinian started to whip about frenziedly.

Rudiger charged again, but he’d barely made it two steps before he tripped over a rock that appeared out of nowhere, and fell face first into the snow.

Rudiger looked to see Felitïa standing in front of the Volg, a dagger in her hand. But the Volg merely swatted her aside and grabbed the boy. Where the yellow energy met the blue, there was…nothing. The energies simply vanished as if they had never been there. The boy struggled, screaming, in the Volg’s strong grip. Rudiger tried to stand again.

The Volg yelled something—a single word—at the other Volg, then spread his wings, and leapt into the air.

The effort to stand was too much. Rudiger fell back to the ground and watched as the two Volgs flew away into the darkness of the night.