seymoure

Chapter 42

Into Another Battle

The cataclysmic battle behind them pushed them towards the cave with a speed that barely allowed them to keep their feet on the ground.

Carrying their charges with the greatest of care, the pair scrambled into the glowing aperture. A final explosion lifted them off their footing and into the air.

They came down in a more familiar surrounding.

They were coming out of a cave into a rock-strewn valley with stony walls on either side. The moment they hit the clay, the arrows began to fly in their direction.

The first volley was at least 20 in number and came uncomfortably close.

Instinct took over, and both men took cover behind two of the huge boulders at the mouth of the cavern.

The second wave of death bounced off the granite blocks, but they were beginning to zero in on their targets with increasing refinement.

Hawk gently laid the clutch containing the future king on the grass behind him. He looked across at Sandor, who was holding Slip’s limp form in his arms.

“There is still magic in your sword,” he spoke in a clear, but low voice. “If you will it to do so, it will return to you after you throw it.”

Hawk thought this might not be true, but having the hope of a weapon would do more for the kid than not having any hope at all.

Sandor’s face told Hawk that the story had given him something.

“Wait until I use up my arrows,” he continued as he pulled a shaft from his quiver. “If you need to, then you can follow up my attack.”

Sandor was clutching his blade in his hand and smiled reassuringly at his comrade.

As Hawk notched the arrow and drew the bow line, he did something he hadn’t done in many years.

He prayed a silent prayer.