“Sorry cousin.” she said to the horse before spinning about and bucking her hind legs to kick the animal in the neck. The kick was phony; meant more to surprise than wound, and the bast reacted in kind by rearing back on its hind legs, and dumping its passenger. Backward the man teetered. He somehow managed to keep his balance well enough to fall flat but instead tumble diagonally across his butt, back, and shoulder before jumping to his feet with sword at the ready. With his back to the fire mage, Hoxley need only place a thumb and forefinger between her teeth and whistle to get Robert’s attention before pointing him out with her spear.

  “Tinder and Cinder!” the shadowy boy shouted, lighting the man aflame. At the same time, yet another horseman circled back and made a direct path for Siouxsie. Coming in at her blindside from the south, the sounds of war kept her from catching wind of the enemy quickly closing in. Morell saw this and sprang into action once again to protect the lightning summoner. Swiftly he charged with mace in hand, legs and arms pumping wildly to intercept.

  “Siouxsie, look out!” He called as he ran, “Siouxsie behind you!” But the girl’s mind was elsewhere as she casted her arcane power upon their attackers. Her eyes glowed brighter than stars on a clear winter night. “Siouxsie!” He shouted. Faster he ran, faster and faster still. The horseman was almost upon her and he arrived just a half stride quicker to tackle her. At the last step his foot caught an unseen object, tripping him, which in turn threw him forward. Morell collided with her, knocking her to the ground and out of the path of a swiftly slicing sword. She shrieked with surprise and they tumbled in the wet grass as the horse missed them by a hairs’ breadth. Not far away, a misguided lightning bolt split a far-off tree with a deafening bang. Its trunk splintered down the middle, both parts groaning as they crashed to the ground.

  “Ow, my foot!” Morell said, drawing his leg up and holding his ankle with both hands.

  “What is it?” Siouxsie asked, trying to help him.

  “I-ow!” Don’t touch it!” he yelped “I tripped on something!” The girl looked back to see the gaping hole that had sent him sprawling.

  “I bet you twisted it on a snake hole.” She said, getting to her feet. “Try not to move it. Stay down, I’ll protect you.” The horse that had passed them by was already in the center of the group and circling Prince Damron. The rider tried to get close enough to snatch the boy but the prince was agile enough to keep out of reach. With sword and shield at the ready, the horseman found it difficult to reach in and grab him. At the same time, one soldier that had lost his horse was on his feet again and closing in on Hoxley as she struggled to get Atticus vertical once more. The old soldier had the wind knocked out of him and still couldn’t catch his breath. Despite Hoxley’s best efforts, he continued to fumble and flounder in her arms, wheezing and panting.

  “On your feet, Atticus!” She strained, trying to raise his substantial girth.

  “Hoxley! On your right!” shouted Loxo over ringing ears caused by repeated lightning strikes. The faun girl raised her head to see him coming straight for Atticus and leapt put herself between the two, clashing steel and lyythium once again. Three swings came at her in quick succession, causing her to step back. This soldier was no novice. His cuts came from the side, straight in and across the body in lunges. Each parry took more and more skill just to keep them at bay. He came in fast and close pressing the middle of his blade across her staff. The two were barely a foot apart as they each held their weapons crisscrossed trying to push and throw the other off balance. Then something happened she didn’t expect; the soldier reached up with his free hand, grabbed her staff between her hands, relived the pressure from his blade only to pull it back and slam her square between the eyes with the hilt. A white-hot bolt of light like one of Siouxsie’s castings jumped through her head.

  “Ahhh!” she cried, backpedaling and waving her spear wildly to keep her opponent at bay as she recovered. The strike was hard and dazed her, she tried to shake it off, her vision doubling and her eyes watering from the blow. Her hand reached up to feel the wound and it came away slicked with blood, lots of it. Before she could react the tickling trickle of warmth was already leaking down her nose and into her eye. She shook her head, tried to wipe it away but the more she wiped the more blood appeared to slick her hands. A quick dab of her shirt bottom across the face was enough to let her see in time to block another stabbing jab coming in fast. She’d almost steadied herself to continue fighting when another volley of fireballs scorched their way through the air to strike the man. Caught up in flame, the swordsman screamed and flapped like the others. Distracted, Hoxley closed the distance fast and clobbered him in the helm with a shit from the butt of her spear. He dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes which might have been a blessing as he would not be awake when he burned to death.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  But for her victory, more blood streamed down her face, blinding Hoxley. Her hand swiped at the would and trails only to come away with more and more blood.

  “Help!” She said as she stumbled, the blood burning her eyes. “Help! Somebody, help me!” Her sight came back for a moment. It was just long enough to catch a glimpse of Atticus still trying to get up like an overturned turtle. With her spear to steady her she wobbled his way, hand still trying to wipe away the crimson slickness painting her palm.

  The last two riders, now at the back of the group, split up. One swung out wide to get a better view rounded the group clockwise while the other went the other way. Morell saw them and hobbled to get to his feet, holding one ankle off the ground. It hurt too much to put weight on it. The clockwise riding rider spotted him and came in charging. This time Siouxsie was watching. Stampeding hooves were almost upon them when a bolt of lightning landed between them, the blast knocking Morell off his foot. The terrifying blast was enough to frighten the horse enough to deviate its path toward Loxo. Siouxsie reached into her belt and produced a dagger which she flipped about in her hand to hold by the blade. Once pinched, she slung the knife end over end to hit the man. It didn’t stick but it got his attention which was her plan. The ploy was not to embed itself uselessly into his leather armor but to distract the enemy to keep his eyes upon her instead of toward the pirate where a sharp sword was ready to receive them. With the target looking the wrong way, Loxo stepped in and impaled the man by thrusting his sword straight through the gut and groin as he passed. He jerked at being stabbed, lost his balance and grip on the reigns before falling off with an appalling crunch to the ground. The soldier was barely moving at all before Robert was upon him, brandishing a dagger of his own to finish him off.

  At the front of the group, Hoxley woozily staggered to reach Atticus. Blinded, she managed to find him by almost stepping on him.

  “Hoxley…” he huffed. “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s a small head wound.” She assured him as she knelt down to console him. “Nothing dire. Didn’t you tell me that even the smallest of head wounds gush more than they should?”

  “Yes., I may have.” He groaned and blinked his eyes hard to try and get his head straight. “Yes, yes I believe that sounds correct.”

  “Hoxley! THERE’S one left!” shouted Loxo with a pointed sword.

  “What? Another?” she said with some confusion as she looked this way and that. She couldn’t see anything at all. Curse this blood. Curse me for getting stuck between the eyes.”

  The pirate was right. Where the other horseman had swung wide on the other side, the remaining rider had done the same. And with two companions downed and helpless, who was their enemy to pass up an opportunity to kill two of them with one foul swoop of the sword? He gripped the reigns and his sword tight and charged in at top speed, the horses legs a blur of power as they carried him on a collision course with the faun and old man.