Dragon & Dreamer | ONC 2023 honourable mention

15 - The king

The heart thumped like a drum in Liha's chest as Melish's detachment rode to battle. As Berim had asked, he stayed with the archers.

His first two shots went wild, and the third almost nicked a man of the royal guard. A human fighter proved harder to hit than a deer. Men's movements were less predictable than his usual prey's—and he lacked experience shooting from horseback.

Liha cursed under his breath and shifted his seat in the saddle. To avenge his loved ones, he had to improve. Another arrow nocked, he pulled the string to his cheekbone, aimed for a stout man threatening a guard with his halberd, breathed out and let loose. The arrow pierced the mercenary's arm with a thud. He dropped his weapon, an astonished expression on his face. The guard stabbed him, waved at Liha, and ran to the aid of a colleague.

Liha reached for a new arrow, searching for another target.

His quiver emptied fast, and out of shafts, he found he had lost sight of his friends. Other archers picked up arrows from the battlefield, so he dismounted and joined them to refill his quiver. The moment he dislodged a shaft from a horse's carcass, a shout made him look up.

"Archers, guard the crossing." On the other side of the Geai, a band of mercenaries gathered and stormed downhill towards the river.

With an armful of arrows, Liha joined the impromptu defence line the king's men formed on the bank to intercept the attackers. He jammed his shield between the one of a blonde man with piercing blue eyes and a wiry, grey-haired warrior who could have been his grandfather. They acknowledged him with a nod.

The old archer squinted and lowered his bow. "Too far. Let's wait until they are in the water."

Aside from a muttered "aye," the men kept silent until the enemy leader urged his grey into the river. The seasoned archer gave the sign.

"Now." With the shout, he let his arrow fly. The horse stumbled and fell, its rider getting carried away by the icy torrent until his head disappeared in the floods. Liha pitied the horse, but the enemies surged towards them, and he took aim.

Arrow after arrow flew into the approaching host until Liha struggled to lift his sore arms and ran out of shafts. His neighbour handed him a bunch of his. "Make them count."

Liha nodded, already aiming again. When the remaining enemies retreated downriver, the archers picked up their shields and followed, ready to install another defence line. The blue-eyed warrior brushed back his sweaty curls and smiled at Liha. "Well done. You're a master with that hunting bow."

"Thank you, but I prefer hunting deer."

The young man chuckled and bound his hair together with a leather strap. "Don't we all? Come, let's make a difference. The faster this bloodbath is over, the better." Together, they searched for stray arrows, observing the enemies on the other bank, working their way towards where the battle raged fiercest.

Liha scanned the moving masses of warriors for Berim, Melish, or Pentim—but couldn't find them when hoofbeats thump behind him. He whirled around. A front of mercenaries approached at a gallop.

"They crossed upriver." Liha's new friend nocked an arrow while Liha fumbled to pull one from the quiver—too late. He threw himself aside at the last moment, sharp hooves passing over him while he reached for his sword. His archer friend was less lucky. Around the spear point piercing his chest, his life gushed away with the blood. The sight of the dead man's broken eyes sent a wave of nausea through Liha's stomach, catapulting him back to the raid on his father's homestead. With his sister's face overlapping the archer's pale features, he fought back the bile in his throat and swung his sword to join the melee.