Wizard's Last Battle

"Well, are you going to answer my questions?" He grunted, adjusting to the feel of her narrow back between his thighs. He had not ridden a horse in many a year, preferring to walk through the forest and gather seasonal herbs he would have missed otherwise. "You said you were called here."

Perhaps compelled would have been more accurate, she answered, clearly not intending to impart any further information. Her desire to reach the castle outweighed her willingness to indulge his curiosity.

"What about Queesim?" he thought to ask as she straightened to her full height.

Bloody stubborn creature. Didn’t he realize the danger they could be in? Now was no time to be holding a grudge. "Well, he’d best hurry because I’m not waiting."

No, we cannot, she agreed darting forward without further warning.

Sulach grunted in surprise, sending a prayer to any listening deity to keep him on the unicorn’s back instead of flat on his. He had never ridden a horse without a saddle. Why had he thought riding a unicorn bareback would be feasible with his fading strength and unsteady grip? Yet, after the initial jerk of movement, the unicorn’s pace became so fluid he might have been sitting in his favorite chair.

Queesim has seen the storm. He will meet us at the castle, Teresa informed him, rather late as it turned out. Queesim’s red-scaled hide flew above them in a spurt of nervous energy, propelling him rapidly toward the gray stone fortress before she could finish relaying the message.

"Lack wit," Sulach muttered, wishing fervently he had the ability to cover the distance as quickly. "I hope they don’t shoot him down, thinking he’s attacking them. He knows better than to fly close to the ramparts without first alerting the Captain."

I’ve reminded him, Teresa assured him, her confusion over his own lack of initiative in the matter evident in her tone. He assures me he is being welcomed.

Sulach had no doubt the little dragon was indeed being welcomed now that his identity was known. Even a small, fire-breathing dragon was a great boon if the castle had to take up arms. Whether a steady stream or a well aimed burst of the deadly fire, the dragon was capable of defending the itself and the castle without depleting the energies of the soldiers or those lackeys the guardsmen were able to recruit from among the castle folk.

Branches grabbed at his hair and cloak, the wind howling in fury as the storm chased them away from the cottage. Lightning danced in the darkness of the clouds. Thunder rumbled its dire threats as rain plummeted to the ground, striking the earth without mercy. Soon his cloak was soaked and the cold autumn rain chilled his aching bones. Joint pain flared in his hands and his hips threatened to disintegrate under the pressure of holding his torso upright. Fear of falling from the unicorn’s back left him breathless.

Only a short distance more, Teresa promised, encouraging him to remain calm. Queesim awaits us.

Sulach nodded, knowing that although the unicorn could not see the affirmative motion, his comprehension and relief were instantly conveyed to her through their special bond. Lightning dazzled his eyes as they burst from the edge of the woods into the clearing preceding the castle grounds. At her command, he twisted the white mane around his wrist, digging uncooperative fingers into the silken depths.

With speed unhindered by branches, roots, and forest debris, Teresa outran the leading edge of the storm. Sulach noted Queesim perched on the rampart next to the gatehouse. Men-at-Arms raced along the perimeter of the castle following the bellowed orders issued by a barrel-chested man on a warhorse. Local peasants scrambled through the open gate into the safety of the outer bailey.