OathBlade (Wattys2015)

19. Racing Home*

The air took on a different scent. The lingering scent of soil and grass was replaced with the clean smell of rain and ozone. Cool dampness enfolded her, caressing her face, blowing her hair from beneath her horns. Isandel's hair blew back and stuck to her face, but she had no free hand to peel it away.

She'd never felt such fear. Not in battle or during hunts. With the taste of it he granted she found it impossible to prevent it from slipping in and poisoning her other thoughts. Was it right to leave the others? Cylphi could create a thick shield of stone and plant, but...would it be thick enough to hold off the ravenous army nipping their heels? What if she returned to find Cylphi and the others trampled beneath her enemies' feet?

The scent of wet soil returned again. A hard jolt nearly bounced her from her seated position at the base of his neck. She clutched his hair tighter and opened her eyes. "Why have we landed?"

He didn't answer. One wasn't necessary

Her home lay ahead. The glimmering white gates were half broken with guards blocking the entryway. They raised their weapons as she approached.

How much time had passed? Elery couldn't waste the time wondering. "Lower your guard! Muster the knights! We must ride out!"

The guards parted and Isandel bounded into the city.

"Make for Ortuna's Passage!" she called to the civilians aiding in restoration. "Take only what you must!"

She couldn't tell how many heard her over their shock at the sight of the dragon. Some stumbled away. Others froze.

"Lady Elery!" One of the surviving Lyewryn knights rushed down the broken street and Elery urged Isandel to stop with a tug on his hair.

He snarled but obeyed.

"I need every able fighter," she said as she helped the innkeeper down. "All those sent by Duke Erwell down to any retired knights still able to lift a sword!"

"Is this...is he—" The knight stared at Isandel, his hand poised over the hilt of his sword.

Elery cuffed the man on the helmet, startling him to attention. His gaze shifted from Isandel. "He is not our enemy, nor is he any business of yours right now! Andethayn has fallen and the enemy is coming here."

"We'll muster and reinforce the walls—"

"No! I had no choice but to leave Cylphi behind. She and three others ride ahead of the army with no hope of escape. The molner are exhausted and the enemies ride beasts like nothing we've seen before. We must ride out to meet them."

"If we empty the city of knights and able-bodies who will be left to defend the civilians should an attack come from another direction?"

"It is a risk we must take. Go, ride out! I will meet with you soon."

The man saluted and rushed away.

A crowd had gathered. Many stood in awe of the dragon in their midst.

"You," Elery pointed to a young woman in a smith apron. "Have you skill with the swords you forge?"

"Yes, M'lady," she replied.

"Then I shall leave you here. Gather our people and lead them to Ortuna's Passage. The castle servants will show you the way. Take this man with you and don't stop until you've reached Ortuna's Bastion."

"Yes, M'lady," the smith said once more before turning to those with her. "Come now, enough gazing about! Split up, gather the townsfolk!"

"I also need a ship prepared," Elery told the remainder. "Stock the galley with enough food to last five days' travel and load spare clothes. As many as can be spared."

Two men nodded and ran down opposite streets.

Elery looked around. Information spread like ripples cast by tiny stones, stirring her people into action. She patted Isandel's neck. "Take me back."

If he was opposed to her treating him as she treated Ishthemir, he did not show it. He turned and ran for the gate, soon joined by the clip of hooves as her remaining few knights and Erwell's soldiers surrounded her.

"What news, commander?" a soldier called.

"Head toward the bridge and be ready! I've no count of their number, but know they are protected by phantasma."

"Bethgardel?" another asked.

"I caught the gleam of their armor among their ranks," she confirmed. "The revived dead make up the bulk. Any else, I do not know."

The group poured from the fractured gates of the once-bright city and Isandel pulled ahead. She pulled his hair. "Do not leave the ground!"

"Even on fresh legs the molner will not reach your companions for some time. Perhaps too late. Would you rather we lag behind when we could protect them instead?"

Even as he spoke, his words questioning, it became obvious he was not waiting for an answer. The rhythmic undulations of his muscles as he beat his wings stoked the fires of her fear and she lowered her head. His steps fell less frequently upon the soil until they stopped altogether.

"Open your eyes, Princess."

"N-no," she whispered. "I will be fine, I just don't want—"

"Open them!" he snapped.

"Do not tell me what to do!" she said. "What does it matter to you, whether I close my eyes or not?"

"Do you fight with your eyes closed as well?"

She raised her head and her eyes opened, almost as if someone else took control. Her stomach tangled at the sight of the ground so far beneath them, speeding by in a blur of dull, rain-drenched green.

"Closing your eyes to fear does not dispel it, Child. None have learned to overcome their trials by closing their eyes to them."

Her eyes stung from the wind. Just one more reason she wished to close them.

But he was right. She hated that fact.

More than that, she hated that once again her expectation of him was destroyed by the sound of not a lofty tone, but a gentle one.

Where was his madness?

Where was the murderous soul-eating dragon known to lure innocent seryn to his forest to debauch himself with them before draining their lives?

If the touch of madness dwelt within the beast carrying her swiftly across the field...she could not see it.