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Chapter Fifty Three

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Atop Kurekka’s back, Mirelle rocketed over the city. One arm encircled the gryphon’s neck, the other clutched her maul tight her body. Behind them, soldiers, archers and horsemen remained in positions inside the south gate. Though she wished she could send more of them north, she dared not assume Rekrek would actually listen to reason and tell his people to stand down. Nonetheless, she clung to the hope that they’d only have one va’chaak tribe to contend with. If Rekrek’s people chose peace, it would make it so much easier to bring her ideals for equality to life.

But first they had to protect their city. First they had to survive.

In the distance, Chir’raal swooped and dove. Black-barred wings flashed in the sun when he ascended. When he hurtled back to the ground, va’chaak warriors tumbled through the air in his wake. Relief washed over Mirelle’s heart. He really was fighting for her city. Another part of her mourned for the blood that had to be spilled, and that the gryphons fought a people they called friends. Mirelle grit her teeth, told herself it had to be done. If they were victorious, she would do everything in her power to ensure they could all call each other friend someday.

Halfway across the town, Mirelle spotted a skirmish in the streets. An infiltration squad of va’chaak was in battle with several outnumbered guards. Another guard lay nearby, bloodied and unmoving. Two va’chaak lay around him, one just as still. The other left a trail of blood as he crawled away. Mirelle’s stomach churned. Gods, what good did this do anyone? And yet, now that it had started, she had a people to protect.

“Kurekka! Left!” She unhooked her arm from his neck long enough to point.

The gryphon turned his head, nodded once, and went into a steep bank. The movement pressed Mirelle to his back, her belly lurching. By now, she was so twisted around inside and so filled with adrenaline the gryphon’s motion didn’t affect too badly. Kurekka descended to the street, then shot down it just above the cobblestone. Sand swirled beneath his wings. Just as he reached the group in battle, he flicked his wings and rose again, planting his hind paws into a va’chaak warrior’s back. The creature gave a clipped scream and tumbled down the road, stirring up more sand and bits of debris from the storm.

Kurekka wheeled about, and while the va’chaak scrambled out of the way, a guard drove a sword into a lizardman’s ribs. He gave a horrible cry, and fell to his knees, blood gushing from the wound and dribbling from his mouth. Kurekka swept over him, only to drop out of the sky with his full weight upon another va’chaak. The impact bore the lizard to the ground. Bones snapped under the gryphon’s weight. All the smaller creature could do was gurgle.

Mirelle wanted to cry and rage all at once. The violence left her stomach far more unsettled than the motion, now. Before she had a chance to gather herself, another scaly warrior charged at them, twin curved daggers in his hands. With a furious snarl, he leapt, bringing his blades to bear not at the gryphon, but the woman atop him.

Reacting entirely on fearful instinct, Mirelle twisted around and swung her maul with all the force she could muster. The heavy iron wedge that capped it split the va’chaak’s skull like ripe fruit and the impact jerked him sideways in the air. The jolt of it jarred Mirelle’s arm, left it tingling and numb. The lizardman was dead in an instant. His limp body flopped against Kurekka. The gryphon spun away, snarling, only to realize Mirelle had already killed him.

The body lay in a crumpled heap, his head only half recognizable now. Bits of blood and gore splattered the cobblestone, clung to the end of her maul. Mirelle wished she didn’t know what those bits were. She tried to spare lives where she could in the last battle, but there was no denying now that she’d killed someone. True, the va’chaak came here with intent to conquer, to kill, but that didn’t make her feel any better about taking his life. She wondered if he had a family somewhere, a child whose father would never come whom, a mate who-

“Lady Mirelle!” One of the guards ran up to her and the gryphon, clapping a fist to his chest. He was panting heavily. Blood marked his sword and splattered his armor. “Are you hurt?”

His question snapped her out of her somber reverie. She’d have time to lament lives taken later, if she survived. For now, she had her city to worry about. “No, no, I’m fine.” She glanced around at the group of guards. The rest of the surviving va’chaak had scattered when faced with the gryphon. The soldiers still standing looked unhurt, but two men lay on the cobble stone. “Are they…?”

The guard nearest her glanced down. “Yeah. They ambushed us, and Kelv went down first. Got two himself, but…well, then Narl tried to give the rest of us time to regroup. If you two hadn’t shown up when you did…”

“I understand.” Mirelle took a deep breath, and called out to the remaining guards. “The whole city owes you men a debt, and for Kelv and Narl, that debt can never be repaid! Your bravery and valor inspires us all, but I must ask yet more of you!” Mirelle thrust her bloodied maul to the north. “The north gate is under attack, and we need every available weapon there to defend it!”

Another guard spoke up, staring at one of the bodies. “But Lady Mirelle, we can’t just…”

When he trailed off, Mirelle answered. “I won’t ask you to abandon your fallen comrades. I only ask that you come back for them later. If the town falls, it won’t matter where the bodies lay, because they’ll be no one left to bury them! Fight for those still with us first, and honor those we’ve lost when the town is safe!” She patted Kurekka’s neck. “Fly!”

Kurekka launched himself into the air, propelled across the city with powerful beats of his vast, brown and red wings. Almost every street they flew over was littered with little sand dunes, and pieces of rubble. Many buildings bore fresh scars from the storm. Shattered windows, missing roofs, fallen walls. Boughs and limbs from broken trees were scattered around. Whatever Revaramek was doing, if it worked the entire town owed him their lives. Mirelle would make sure no one ever forget that.

Chaos surrounded the northern gate, where Gavak’s entire tribe brought war to her city. Many va’chaak lay dead or wounded outside the gate. Arrows jutted from some of them. Others were broken and battered by Chir’raal. As neared the battle, Chir’raal swept along the outer wall, knocking off va’chaak that had clawed their way up to attack the archers. At least one of them ended up impaled on a palisade spike. With the walkway temporarily cleared, soldiers scrambled back up to it. Some of them were bowmen returning to positions, others picking up bows dropped by fallen men.

The gate itself was half open. At a glance Mirelle couldn’t tell if the va’chaak had battered it in, or if enough of them had scaled the walls to get inside to try and open it. The dead and wounded of both peoples littered the inside of the gateway. Blood slicked the cobblestone. A line of va’chaak with bows and slings hurled arrows and stones at the archers, providing cover for more of them to push through the opening. Soldiers dragged wounded back from gate while others rushed in to take their place, struggling to repel the invasion. Blades flashed, weapons and armor clanged. Screams rang out. Blood glistened in the sun.

“Drop me off, and go help your mate!” Mirelle shouted so Kurekka could hear. He swooped in and landed behind all the soldiers. She undid the safety rope, jumping off of his back. “When I whistle, come get me!”

Kurekka gave a single nod, shaking himself, feathers fluffed. “Be careful!”

“You too!” She thumped him on the haunch with a fist. “You don’t have your soup pot!”

The gryphon flashed her an open beak grin, thankful for the moment of levity, then shot right back into the air. Mirelle turned in a circle, surveying the area quick as she could. Some of the side roads were blocked off, others were not. A dozen or so horsemen in the market plaza not far away had already run down and slain a few va’chaak, but it did not look like they’d seen heavy combat yet. Mirelle wished she could send them up to the gate. As crowded as it was, they’d be in the way of their own people. They’d be easier targets, too. Maybe she could do something about that soon, if the tide started to turn.

She glanced up and saw more archers and crossbow men had taken to the rooftops of nearby buildings. They fired at va’chaak climbing the walls, or pushing towards the gate. Atop one particularly tall building, she even saw Tavaat and Beka. Tavaat was laid out with his giant crossbow braced on a decorative railing that edged the roof. Tavaat fired, and the bolt punched through an armored va’chaak’s chest and sent him tumbling off the outer walkway. Beka helped him set the next bolt, then ferried him a few more, watching his back all the while.

Dead and wounded soldiers littered the area near the gate, and along the walkway. Many more had been dragged off to be tended by the medics brave enough to serve near the front line. Others were being hurried off on makeshift stretchers towards the areas she’d set aside for medical treatment. Some of the soldiers being carried away wouldn’t live long enough to see the doctors. The screams of men and lizard alike filled the air, mingling with the constant shout of orders, and the clanging din of iron and steel and bone. Mirelle wanted to clap her hands over her ears. The sickly copper-sweet smell of blood covered everything, made the very air feel thick with its horrible scent.

“Lady Mirelle!” A young man with marks of minor rank ran out to her.

Mirelle snapped to attention again, whirling on him. “Who’s in charge here, soldier?”

“You are, Ma’am!” The guard clapped a fist to his chest.

That wasn’t really what she meant. She’d half expected the captain of this gate or the ranking officer to come to her first. But the frightened, uncertain look in the young man’s eyes told her there weren’t any higher ranking officers left at this gate. And the fact he was still here, still clutching a blood-stained sword told her if he lived through this, he’d have earned the promotion fate handed him.

“Report, Captain!”

The soldier blinked, stammered and glanced at his lower ranking insignias. Then he stared at the gate, where the battle had ebbed away again for a moment, giving her people time to ferry away some of the wounded, and move aside some of the dead.

“Ma’am, we’re out numbered here!” The soldier thrust his sword towards the gate. “But we’ve held them off best we can. The Captain lead the squad to repel the first breach, and he…he…well…” He shook himself, then hardened his gaze. “He repelled the breach, Ma’am! But took a bad wound and he…he didn’t make to their second try. Some of them keep scaling the walls, bastards can really climb! They got to the gate. I sent some of our archers to the rooftops to give them a better shot at those climbing the wall.”

“Good thinking.” Mirelle put her hand on his shoulder. “How many men have we lost?”

“I…I dunno, I’d say a third, at least. We’ve taken a lot of them with us, far more than we’ve lost, but they’ve got more to throw at us than we can stand to lose.”

“Then let’s hope Kurekka can help even the odds.” Mirelle gazed around. She needed to free up more men to fight. “You’re sending too many men with the wounded. I know it sounds cold, but half those soldiers being dragged off aren’t going to make it long enough to be seen by a healer. If they can’t be saved, don’t spare the men to try and save them! And don’t send healthy men to take them all the way to the medical area. Let the field surgeons see to those who have a chance. Everyone else has to stay and fight!”

The soldier opened his mouth to argue, then clamped his jaw shut. He either saw the reasoning in her words, or just didn’t want to argue with a superior. Mirelle would take it either way. “Yes ma’am!”

“If I think we’ve lost too many, or feel we’re about to be overrun, I’ll signal a retreat. Do you know where the fallback defensive locations are?”

“Yes Ma’am! We are to withdraw and fortify the-”

“I believe you, Captain.” Mirelle swung her maul towards the plaza. “When the time comes, I don’t want you to actually withdraw. I want you to set up an ambush. When you fall back, lead as many of them as you can into the plaza, give the mounted Calvary a chance to cut them apart. And leave the archers on the roofs with as many arrows as they can spare. And then regroup into formations, and stream back into the plaza while they’re trying to escape the horsemen! Hit them from all sides, if you can.”

“I like the sound of that!”

“Good! If you’re truly overrun, our second line of defense is already in position around our fallback locations. I ordered some men at the south gate to head this way to reinforce us. But I can’t order any more men away without knowing if we’ve a truce there.” She took a deep breath, then gave the man a long, hard look. “If you’re truly overrun, I don’t know that I can risk telling our second line defenders to open up their perimeter to let you in. Because if they get overrun… You understand?”

The captain swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes Ma’am I do. If it comes to that, I’ll make sure we take so many of them with us, the only thing left for the second line to do is clean up the mess.”

Mirelle wasn’t sure if she should be more proud or terrified for the captain. She squeezed his shoulder and gave him the best smile she could muster. “You make your city proud.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” He swallowed again, then pointed back towards the center of the city. “You should get to safety!”

Mirelle glanced at her bloodied maul, her stomach twisting. “I’ve never backed down in my life, Captain. Why start now?”

The newly appointed captain gave a laugh. “Then you make us proud too, Ma’am. What’s the signal? For the ambush, I mean?”

Mirelle put her fingers in her mouth, and whistled as loud as she could.

“That’s the signal?”

“No.” A moment later, Kurekka swept over the wall and landed just behind Mirelle. Blood stained his paws and streaked a few of his feathers. “That’s for him!” Mirelle hurried around the gryphon and climbed onto his back again. She tied her safety rope, and glanced back at the guard. “The signal is Revaramek!”

“What?” The man gave her a confused look.

“When the gryphons or I yell ‘Revaramek’, that’s the signal.”

As soon as Mirelle was settled, Kurekka leapt back into the sky. The ascent made her clench her jaws. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to that. She leaned forward against his neck. “Are you alright?”

“Few scratches.” In seconds, Kurekka was out past the wall, over the horde of va’chaak. “Most of the blood is theirs!”

“What about Chir’raal?”

“About the same! What do you want to go?”

“After anyone who’s giving orders!” Mirelle scanned the ground while Kurekka banked and circled around. A few arrows whistled past them. Each one made her cringe.

In the midst of battle, the va’chaak tribe had reorganized into several groups recognizable from the air. At one side, many wounded va’chaak lay sprawled on the ground or writhing in pain. Their healers struggled to stop bleeding and splint bones. Mirelle wasn’t interested in them.

Another group was gathered in formation, heading for the gate. A tall black and gray male was screaming orders as they sloshed through knee-deep water and rice paddies. Smaller squads of them split off and loped along the fence in either direction, ready to scale it again. Behind them were several uneven lines of va’chaak with bows and slings, covering the larger group’s advance.

A moment later and Chir’raal plunged in from the other side, scattering them. He snatched one in his fore paws and hurled him into the midst of the larger group, before charging after him. Chir’raal whirled in a gray and black blur. Claws and beak shredded scaled flesh. Kicks from his hind leg broke bones. Va’chaak were batted aside, sent tumbling into one another, and crumpled, screaming and bloodied. Then before more could surround him, or draw a bead with their bows, Chir’raal was back in the air.

The tall black and gray male thrust a bone spear in the air to point at Chir’raal, snarling orders.

“I think that’s Gavak!” Kurekka called back to her, spiraling sharply to make himself harder to hit. A stone hurtled past them, then an arrow on the other side. “If we go after him right now, we’re going to get swarmed!” He yelled out a warning to his mate in gryphon, and Chir’raal called back, swooping away.

“We’ll deal with him when we get the chance!” Mirelle leaned over his neck, pointing. “There, taking shelter!”

Behind the main formations, a few smaller groups had taken cover behind overturned carts and wagons the storm left strewn around the road. At the back, behind a yellow painted cart was a small, slender va’chaak with mottled black and green scales. A group of larger warriors stood around him as he gestured with a knife.

“That looks important!”

“Agreed!” Mirelle clenched her maul to her chest. “So let’s put a stop to it! Tell Chir’raal to come in from the other direction.”

Kurekka called out to Chir’raal in their native tongue, and the other gryphon wheeled about in the sky. Mirelle clutched Kurekka’s neck with one arm and her maul with the other as the gryphon swept down to the ground, landing in a bumpy trot just beyond the va’chaak behind the yellow cart. The smaller one giving orders shrieked something furious sounding. The bigger warriors around him all moved as one to intercept the gryphon.

Everything after that happened in a flash. The nearest va’chaak swung an immense axe for Kurekka’s face, only for the gryphon to bat the flat of it aside with a forepaw. He shot his head forward and tore out the lizard’s throat with his beak. At the same time, another hurled a throwing knife through the air that whistled just past Mirelle’s face. But even as she instinctively jerked back, another massive lizard charged at her from the side. As she swung her maul down to drive him back, she spotted one more running up behind the gryphon with a spear.

“Kurekka, spin right!”

The gryphon did just as she asked, pivoting hard to the right. She swung her maul in the opposition direction, this time striking one of the va’chaak in the shoulder so hard the impact nearly jarred the weapon right out of her grasp. He screamed and stumbled as bone shattered. The movement gave the spear-wielder enough pause for Kurekka to charge him. Startled, he frantically jabbed his weapon at the gryphon’s face. Kurekka pulled back and shattered the spear’s haft with a front paw. He followed up with another charge to drive his head into the lizard’s chest. Something cracked and he rolled across the ground, coughing blood.

Meanwhile, Chir’raal shot down behind them. He brought his weight to bear against the damaged yellow cart the strategist sheltered behind. The whole thing tipped forward, and with a tremendous crash it toppled over onto the smaller va’chaak, crushing him. In the same smooth motion, Chir’raal leapt off it as it fell. He landed atop the lizardman who’d thrown the knife at Mirelle. The big gryphon snarled as bone broke beneath his weight. Chir’raal twisted on his paws, and bound across the ground to barrel into the last warrior still standing nearby. The impact sent the lizard tumbling, and Chir’raal followed him long enough to sink claws into his skull.

“Kurekka, you hurt?” Chir’raal’s attention was on his mate the instant the nearest threats were nullified. He trotted over, panting heavily.

“No worse than you.” Kurekka stretched his neck to nuzzle his mate. Then he gazed over the gruesome scene they’d left in their wake. “This may be too optimistic, but I daresay we’ve nearly decapitated their leadership! Other than Gavak, at least.”

“And he’s with the remaining bulk of their infantry, trying to lead them inside!” Chir’raal glanced up at Mirelle, his ears back. “Gavak’s lost a lot of warriors, but he’s not giving up. I don’t know how much longer your people can hold that gate. And Gavak gets inside and disperses his people throughout the city, this could go on for days. They could decide to slink around, hide in houses, making running attacks…”

Mirelle wiped her forehead, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “Then we let them in on our terms. We’ll stage a false withdrawal, try and shepherd them into that plaza, then let out cavalry at them while the rest of us hit them from all sides. I can’t promise it’ll end this, but…”

Kurekka shook himself. “Should thin their numbers drastically, and then if Rekrek stays out of it we can have more of your troops come finish them off.”

“Yeah. How big of an ‘if’ is Rekrek staying his hand?”

Chir’raal warbled. “I think he’s got a more reasonable head on his shoulders than Gavak. He wants revenge for his ancestors…but I think he’d rather have peace for his children.”

“He has children?”

Chir’raal blinked, wiping his blooded paws off on the grass. “I was speaking dramatically, actually. I’ve no idea if he has children or not.”

“Let’s hope he’s looking at the bigger picture, either way.” Mirelle pointed with her maul at the other gryphon. “Chir’raal, I want you to tear them up wherever you can. Make it look like you’re trying to cover our retreat, and take out as many as you can. But be careful. And Kurekka? We’re going after Gavak.”

The gryphon gave a single nod, his crimson crown feathers raised. “I understand.”

“I know that…” Mirelle trailed off. What else did she have left to say to them now? Instead, she just rubbed the side of his neck. “I know you do. So, let’s do it. Get to the skies, and as loud as you can, yell Revaramek’s name.”

Chir’raal gave her a strange look, his head tilted, blue-flecked crest feathers half lifted. “Why Revaramek’s name?”

“I made that the code for our fake retreat. I needed something that wouldn’t be misconstrued. And…his name was the first thing that popped into my head.” She gulped, rubbing the haft of her maul with a gauntleted hand. “Seemed fitting.”

Chir’raal warbled his approval. “Agreed. Well then…” He nuzzled at his lover’s ear. “Let’s go scream our benevolent overlord’s name to the skies.”

Both gryphons took to the skies, spiraling upwards together. Down below, the battle continued. Va’chaak dead and wounded lay along the wall. The main thrust of their group pushed at the gate, trying to force their way in by sheer numbers. Given the time, they’d do just that. More of Mirelle’s people lay dead as well. Every one of those deaths, every valiant man and woman who gave their life for their city already weighed upon her heart. She knew that weight would only grow in the coming days. Yet she would gladly bear their burden if it meant their city survived.

She patted Kurekka, and loud as he could, he screamed Revaramek’s name. Chir’raal followed, the name echoing down to the men below, and across the city. Mirelle took a breath, tilted her head back, and shouted her friend’s name to the skies.

“Revaramek!”

_May the skies remember it well. _

Beneath the gryphons, soldiers and archers alike fell back in swift but orderly fashion. For men who had never truly been tested in battle, they could not have been more impressive. Hell, as far as Mirelle was concerned, hardened soldiers wouldn’t have performed any better today than her people did. As the retreat spread, rooftop archers took aim at va’chaak pushing through the gates and climbing the walls.

Tavaat and Beka were still in place, and as Mirelle watched from above, Tavaat fired another bolt through a lizard chasing after retreating soldiers. He had to be running low on ammo. She hoped he had a back-up plan. His valor today had damn well better make it easier for peace to settle between her people and his.

As the soldiers fell back, the va’chaak outside the gates roared and snarled as if sensing victory at hand. Some of them called out orders in their harsh tongue. Mirelle spotted Gavak amidst them, gesturing with his weapons as his people rushed forward around him. For now, she waited. She didn’t want to risk getting Kurekka swarmed.

The lizardmen at the front of their formation surged into the gateway. Some of them slipped through the opening. Others pressed and heaved against the gate, forcing the whole thing open. More and more of them poured forth to push against it, joining together in a desperate attempt to breach the city and seize the upper hand. Finally the whole thing tore free of its moorings and collapsed beneath them, the sound of its sundering lost beneath howls of effort and victory. When the gate gave way, some of the va’chaak fell with it while the rest rushed forward. The lucky ones made it back to their feet or had someone assist them, while others ended up trampled. More slipped on cobblestones slick with the blood in their heedless haste to enter the city.

Arrows and crossbow bolts dropped a few more into the path of the rest of them. Several stumbled across their fallen comrades, trampling a few more. Mirelle took no pleasure in such deaths, but she was happy to see their numbers thinned in any way possible. Every one of them that fell was another of her people who might live.

While the va’chaak stormed into the city, Mirelle forced herself to tear her eyes away long enough to gaze southward. Rekrek’s va’chaak still massed outside the gate, but where chaos reigned below her, everything on the city’s southern flank still looked orderly. They hadn’t attacked. Given the bloodshed in the streets beneath her, she took little relief in Rekrek holding back, but it meant they might be able to end it here. Granted, she knew it was possible he might waiting to strike at a depleted force, but the best time to attack would have been in unison with Gavak. He hadn’t, and so she let herself hope that her words had reached him.

When Kurekka wheeled around again, an immense flash of blue-white light lit up the southwestern sky. It was bright enough to shine even in the afternoon, and heralded the sudden appearance of strange, swirling clouds. They twisted in the distance, fixed on a single point, illuminated by more flicking bolts of blue-white. It looked as if a storm had coalesced from nowhere, the skies suddenly angry.

Somehow, Mirelle knew that was Revaramek’s doing. Whatever his plan was…he must have just done it. She only hoped that flash of light and the storm clouds behind it weren’t symbolic of Asterbury’s fury. But the storm faded as quickly as it arrived, dissipating into distant, swirling mists that slowly vanished. Revaramek’s voice echoed in her head.

I’m not coming back, Mirelle…

A cold knife cut deep into her heart, and twisted. Oh Gods, what had put himself through on their behalf?

“Did…did you see that?” Kurekka called back to her, his voice shaking.

“Yes!” Mirelle took a breath, trying to steady herself.

“Do…do you think…”

“I think…Revaramek just kept his word.”

Kurekka shuddered. He threw his head back and screeched to the skies. It was a new sound this time, a long, shrieking cry, like a mourning eagle. When Chir’raal took up the cry, Mirelle realized that was exactly what it was. A furious eulogy to a friend none of them would ever see again.

Mirelle took the deepest breath she could, and screamed her mournful sorrow to the winds.

*****

When the echoes of their grief faded, Mirelle sent Chir’raal diving down into the back of the va’chaak horde that pushed through the gate. So far her plan seemed to be working. Though some of the va’chaak did clamber over debris into side streets, most took the path of least resistance and chased after the retreating guards. A few smashed their way into shops and stores just inside the gate. Others simply ran from the black and gray gryphon tearing through them outside the walls. A few fired arrows at Chi’raal. One struck the gryphon in the haunch, but the pain seemed more irritant than deterrent.

From above, Mirelle saw withdrawing soldiers running through the plaza, and into side streets. Further away, out of site of the encroaching lizardmen, they pulled each other aside, starting to regroup. Just past the outer edges of the plaza, in alleyways and places hard to see from the city’s entryway, horsemen stood ready. Their steeds stamped their hooves, unnerved by the sounds of battle and the scent of so much blood. These weren’t horses used to combat. Then again, her soldiers weren’t used to combat, either. The beasts were the best trained in the city. Mirelle was sure they’d follow their riders’ commands. She told herself this was going to work. This had to work.

Mirelle searched for Gavak. Many of his tribe bore similar dark colors, and in a writhing, scaly sea, it was hard to spot a single va’chaak. A stone hurtled past them, and Kurekka dipped a wing, banking sharply. Mirelle pressed herself to his neck, an arrow whistling by where they’d been a moment earlier. She wished they’d had time to try and strap that makeshift armor to Kurekka’s underside. At least the va’chaak no longer seemed to have any organized lines of archers.

When the mass of va’chaak reached the plaza, they spread out to chase after the last few soldiers running to side streets. As they filtered through the area, Mirelle thumped the side of Kurekka’s neck, pointing down. “Swoop around the plaza!” The gryphon folded his crimson-edged wings and went into a stiff dive, only to level off and circle around the plaza at a steep angle. Mirelle grit her teeth against the way the motion flattened her stomach into her boots, calling out to the cavalry below. “Now! Now, now! Charge them!”

As one, over a dozen horseback soldiers exploded from all sides of the plaza, charging out into the fray. Some bore swords and axes, a few of them carried lances. From every direction, they sliced deep into the amorphous va’chaak formation. Each of them cut down a few startled warriors immediately. Howls of agony rang out, along with other cries of fear as chaos swept across the lizardmen’s ranks. Others were soon trampled as horses wheeled about, and made another pass. To Mirelle’s relief, every one of the nervous horses did what it was trained to do. A few bucked and kicked hooves in the air, but even that ended in a few crushed va’chaak, and to her relief, no lost riders.

When the va’chaak tried to regroup, the captain in charge of the cavalry shouted out coded orders to his men. Each order was the name of another geometric shape, and Mirelle was glad the riders all seemed to know what to do whenever he yelled triangle, or square. They crisscrossed the plaza time and again, and soon the wide cobblestone berth was increasingly covered with bloodied lizardmen. Sickening, red streams caught the sun as they trickled between cobblestones.

Some of the va’chaak tried to reverse course, only to run into their own people as more of them poured in through the gates. Those still outside the city could not see what was happening within the walls, only that there was a gryphon tearing them apart outside. They struggled to make it into the relative safety of walls and close quarters where the gryphons couldn’t so freely maneuver. At the same time, those in the plaza pushed back the way they’d come, trying escape the horses.

In all the panic, some of the va’chaak ended up knocking down more of their own people to be trampled. Others slipped into alleys and side streets, trying to regroup. That was when the soldiers who’d feigned retreat sprang their own traps. Some fired crossbows through alley windows. Others surged from doorways to cut off escape routes. More of Mirelle’s troops charged back into the side streets while the va’chaak were in disarray.

Back in the plaza, the va’chaak tried to rally. Mirelle spotted a few of them clambering up buildings. When she saw them chasing down her archers to steal their bows, and their elevated positions, she sent Kurekka after them. Mirelle clung to the gryphon’s neck as he dropped out of the sky. He snatched up va’chaak in his forepaws and hurled them, screaming, off the roof tops. Then he leapt over the main street, beat his wings once, and alighted upon another building. On that rooftop, a group of va’chaak with slings fired stones at the horsemen. Kurekka threw one of them to the street and hurled the second through a window of a neighboring shop.

Mirelle twisted her head around, keeping track of the others. “Behind! Right paw!”

Kurekka kicked out his right hind leg, and his back paw landed squarely on the va’chaak’s chest. The impact hit the warrior so hard it splintered his armor and launched him off the side of the roof to fall into an alleyway. Mirelle swung her maul around as Kurekka spun, shattering the forearm of the last lizard on the rooftop. He stumbled away screaming, and Kurekka took to the skies again.

A horrible sound, like a horse squealing, made Mirelle wince. Down below them, a horse toppled to the plaza, a heavy spear deep in its side. The va’chaak tore the rider away, beating and stabbing him. Another horseman tried to run the attackers down, only for an especially large black and gray va’chaak to pivot away, duck the man’s sword, and cut the horse’s legs out from under it. It collapsed and skidded across the blood-soaked stone, throwing its rider. Another va’chaak buried an axe through the soldier’s helmet and deep into his head. The big black and gray male roared out orders to the rest, bringing order back to their chaos.

“That’s Gavak!” Mirelle called out to the gryphon over the rushing wind and the horrible sounds of conflict. “We have to take him out!”

“I need an opening!”

Already Gavak was changing the flow of battle. His presence alone seemed to suppress some of the va’chaak’s panic. When he gave orders, they all listened. They were rallying around him, organizing to take down the cavalry riders. A few soldiers rushed in at Gavak. One thrust a sword for his belly, only for Gavak to side step and deflect the blow with one long, curved knife, and slice another through the man’s throat. The other va’chaak around him fought with two more soldiers. One man took a spear deep in his stomach, and the other a heavy axe in the chest.

Even as those men lay dying, Gavak stepped over them to yell more orders. Va’chaak nearer the edges of the plaza called out to each other, forming more orderly ranks again. They worked to seal off the side streets to prevent more soldiers from flooding back in, seeking to push them back instead. Mirelle wasn’t sure they had enough warriors left to take more than the plaza, and she didn’t intend to give Gavak a chance to find out.

“There!” Mirelle pointed down when Kurekka glanced back. “Can you land behind him?”

“I can, but they’re gonna be on us. So be ready!”

Mirelle nodded and pressed against Kurekka’s neck. Feathers rustled all around her as he dove. He landed hard, jostling his whole body under. On the ground, the sounds were overwhelming. Screams of anguish and fury, howls of sorrow and death rattles, the scraping clang of weapons, impacts against armor of iron and bone. A constant, horrifying noise, so overwhelming she couldn’t even make out what Kurekka was saying.

There were surrounded in a heartbeat by va’chaak eager to bring down their enemies’ leader and best weapon in one powerful blow. Kurekka moved as a whirlwind, lashing with his forepaws, snapping his beak, kicking hind legs. One va’chaak fell, clutching his rent throat, blood spurting. Another toppled through several of his friends, sending them all crashing down. A third had an arm torn from his body, and another, damaged entrails exposed as Kurekka’s claws cut him nearly to his spine.

Yet even as those fell, there were more. With all Kurekka’s movement, Mirelle lost track of Gavak, and for a moment, panic seized her frantically beating heart. She never should have had Kurekka land. She wanted to cut the heart out of her foes, but what about her people? If she died here, what would that do to her own soldiers? That was the sort of morale-crushing loss that might tilt everything in the va’chaak’s favor. Then survival instinct took over, pushing panic and more rational thoughts to the side.

With every movement Kurekka made, Mirelle made a counter move, trying to cover his blind side. He spun to the right, tearing open another lizard, and she lashed out with her maul to crush the olive-scaled skull of a warrior on his left. The gryphon lunged forward, and she struck at another va’chaak towards his hind end, where he couldn’t see them. As he turned back around, she brought her maul down against the back of an injured lizardman, trying to stab Kurekka’s paw.

Then in a dark blur, something heavy hit her from her own blindside, striking her with such force it tore her off the gryphon and knocked her to the ground. Wind rushed from her lungs. Her maul flew from her grasp. Pain spiked through her back as she rolled across bloodied plaza. Her safety rope snapped taut. Her ears rang. As she fought to rise, Gavak towered over her. Even as Kurekka spun towards them, Gavak sliced through Mirelle’s rope and kicked her in the chest.

The power of the blow sent her tumbling backwards. Agony poured through her chest, and she wheezed, struggling to breath. If not for her armor, he might have shattered her sternum. Fighting to breath, she tried to rise, and saw Kurekka coming after Gavak. The lizard pivoted away, two of his soldiers stepping to his aide. In Kurekka’s haste to get to Mirelle, he didn’t see the va’chaak with the spear running up alongside him. She called out, but the lizard warrior drove his spear into the gryphon’s side. Kurekka screamed, stumbling away as the pike came free. Gryphon blood splattered the ground, adding its dark red hue to the blood of men and va’chaak. Somewhere in the distance, Chir’raal called his mate’s name, a fearful cry.

Kurekka spun on the spear wielder, who thrust his weapon at him again. This time it struck Kurekka in the shoulder, scraping against the bone. Again the gryphon screamed, but with his other forepaw, he snapped the spear in half. The va’chaak backed away, only for Kurekka to lunge at him and sink his beak into his neck. As that lizard writhed in his final throes, more of them ran forward to try and take advantage of the gryphon’s injuries.

A mounted soldier spurred his horse onward, charging through the gathering warriors to come to the gryphon’s aide. At the same time, a dark shadow passed over the plaza as Chir’raal swept in to protect his mate, keening his fury. He landed in the middle of the battle, near Kurekka, and immediately began tearing apart the va’chaak trying to swarm them.

In all the chaos, Mirelle struggled to keep track of Gavak. When she thought she had an opening, she went for her maul, only for him dart back over and snatch it up. He snarled at her, and then hurled the thing at her head. She flattened herself down just before the heavy tool flew over her, crashing into a damaged building beyond.

As she got back up, another va’chaak grabbed her arms, trying to wrench them behind her back. She slammed her boot heel into the creature’s exposed shin, then dragged it down to stomp on the top of his foot. He cried out in pain, grasp loosened just enough for her to twist an arm free. She wriggled around and punched the lizard in the throat. He staggered back, and she yanked out the knife at his belt. Then she spun back around to try and stab it into Gavak as he came after her.

Gavak caught her arm, twisting her wrist. “Our land is yours no longer!” He snarled in her face, spittle flecking her skin. She struggled and he twisted harder, till something snapped. Sharp pained lanced up Mirelle’s arm, and she screamed, knees nearly giving out. Gavak released her broken wrist after she dropped the knife and shoved her back. She fell onto the bloodied cobblestone, gritting her teeth to fight back another cry.

The va’chaak snatched up the knife, advancing on her. “Our ancestors’ slaughter is no longer unavenged!” Animal skulls on his necklace bobbed against the bone-hewn breastplate protecting him. “Surrender your city, and you’ll live!”

Behind him, Chir’raal fought to keep Kurekka safe even as the red-brown gryphon himself kept fighting despite the blood slicking his feathers. All around her, battle waged, soldiers and guards and townsfolk alike fighting to protect their homes. Too many men had died for their home, died for their family. Like hell was Mirelle gonna betray their sacrifice by surrendering herself. She pushed herself back to her feet, holding her injured arm against her chest, eyes flashing defiance.

“You’re gonna lose.” Mirelle’s voice was a ragged snarl. “Rekrek isn’t fighting. Asterbury’s not coming back! Even if you win here, you can’t take the city. Send your people home. They’re dying for noth-”

Gavak crossed the space between them in an instant, snatching Mirelle around her throat. He lifted her off her feet, all his fangs bared, dark eyes gleaming. Hot pain and shock stole Mirelle’s breath when Gavak drove his dagger into her ribs. Her armor took some of the blade’s momentum, deflecting it off course, but cold steel still sunk between two ribs. Mirelle gasped, her jaw working. Her lungs seized. She couldn’t draw breath, nor even scream. When Gavak twisted the blade, it scraped bone, pushing ribs apart. The agony it brought was unlike anything she’d ever known, cruel and terrifying. She saw white spots.

“Call…off…your…” Gavak twisted the dagger harder. “Men.”

Mirelle finally managed to scream, ragged and anguished. Even then, unable to truly reply, she shook her head. Black hair damp with sweat and blood clung to her face. Her uninjured hand grasped at his armor, scratched at his scales. She groped blindly at his body, patting at him.

Gavak sneered, dark eyes narrowed. “You’re braver than I expected.” Mirelle grasped at his armor again, her hand weakly sliding down, her strength ebbing quickly. “But if that is your way of asking for mercy, I gave you your chance. If you won’t surrender, you’ll die.”

Mercy wasn’t what Mirelle was looking for. She was looking for the knife straps every va’chaak seemed to wear around their bodies. When she found one, she found a knife’s handle there, too. She closed her fingers and yanked it free in a single motion. Just as realization dawned in Gavak’s eyes, Mirelle plunged the blade as deeply as she could into the side of his neck.

With a gagging howl, he let her go and stumbled away. His dagger came free from her ribs, but hers stuck in his neck. She dropped to the ground, knees buckling. Blood ran freely over her studded leather armor, dripping in rivulets to the ground. It gushed far faster from around the knife in Gavak’s neck while he staggered back. A few more va’chaak pushed through the battle to come to his aide. He fell to his knees, clutching at his throat. Blood ran from his muzzle.

“Gavak is dead!” Mirelle knew her pronouncement was premature, but she didn’t think she had many words left. She wanted them to matter. If death could be a rallying cry for either side, she wanted that momentum on her side. She pushed herself to her knees, and fighting the agony a deep breath brought, she screamed to her people. “Gavak is dead! Victory is yours! Save…your homes! Save…your families! Victory!”

Across the plaza, those still standing, still fighting took up the rallying cry. They screamed for victory, screamed for their homes and families to be saved. Men who had been falling back instead surged forward, striking down injured va’chaak. The remaining horsemen called out orders, riding together through va’chaak formations. Murmurs of the opposite sort rippled through the lizardmen as each glimpsed their dying leader being pulled away. Soon some of them were grabbing injured comrades, trying to drag them away. Others broke for the gate, hoping to escape into the marsh.

Mirelle’s vision swam. Darkness closed in, pulled back, then crept closer once more. Through the wavering light, va’chaak closed in, no doubt hoping to claim her as bartering tool, or avenge their leader. Something big and dark loomed behind them. It batted aside the va’chaak, sent one crashing through a wall. Then it came for Mirelle. She tried to strike at it, but had no weapon left. Her fist struck soft feathers and hard muscle just before a foreleg enclosed her.

“I gotcha, girl.” It took her a moment to recognize Chir’raal’s voice. He carried her against his chest, hobbling on three legs. “You’re alright, you’re alright.”

“How’s Lady Mirelle?” That voice sounded familiar, too. She blinked, caught glimpses of blood on armor.

“Bleedin’ bad.” Chir’raal shifted her.

“Get her to the healers.” She knew that voice. A gryphon. She’d been riding him. He sounded hurt. He’d…been stabbed.

Mirelle tried to reach out for her. “Mmmrrrekka”

“I’m here, Mirelle.” His paw brushed her arm. “You killed Gavak! They’re starting to retreat…Chir’raal, take her now!”

“But you’re-”

“Going to keep bleeding! But I’ve got more to lose than her, and I’m too heavy for you carry. So go!” Something clacked, like a beak snapping. “GO!”

Then everything fell away as Chir’raal leapt into the air. He cradled her against his chest. His feathers and fur were warm, comforting. Mirelle pressed her face to them, seeking warmth as darkness washed across her.

“You’ll be alright, Girl.” Chir’raals voice grew further away with every word till it was just a whisper in the silence. “You’ll be alright…”

“You’ll be…alright…”

Then nothing.

*****

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed, please leave a FAVE, and a comment with your thoughts! Off for a furry con, so with any luck I'll be back to regularly posting till its done starting next week! )