Chapter 51 Fugitives (1/2)

Chapter 51 Fugitives

It was a reconnaissance team, scouts – maybe twenty or thirty of them. A pair of three-meter-tall maneaters trundled among them, and a third were rangers. Several were mounted on enormous lizards that slithered over the sands of the wastes.

These beasts were a class above the mutated ostriches Tartarus mercenaries had used. They made effective war mounts that could fight back. They were fierce, had skin thick as armor and had incredible endurance. Their riders had longbows slung across their backs.

They were mobile, and good at close range or at a distance. Hunters.

Cloudhawk hadn’t felt them coming. With Mantis gone, chances that the two of them could fight their way out were slim. Their enemies were about a hundred meters away and closing.

“Goddamnit! They have rotwolves!” He spotted the closest of them, a wolf rider. Bristling with coarse, black hair the wolf had its muzzle pressed to the ground as it searched for them. Hiding wasn’t going to do them any good. “Go… we gotta go!”

The two of them scrambled out of their hiding place as quietly as they could then tumbled over the far side of a sand dune. They slid down to its base.

“Awooo! Awoooo!”

Rotwolves were sensitive to all kinds of movement. It raced to the spot Cloudhawk and the Queen had just fled, picking up their scent.

“We got ‘em!” The wolf rider beamed a hideous grin, he saw the bloodstains on the ground. It had to have come from a wound. He swung his arms to get the others’ attention. “A few of you get ahead and cut them off. Give the signal for the others to come.”

Lizard riders bounded off to either flank and made their way around the sand dune. Thanks to their webbed feet they dashed across the sand like the wind. There was no question they could overtake their prey.

One of the sweepers pulled an arrow from its quiver and doused it in fuel. Lighting it ablaze he fired it into the night sky. Instantly the burning red light split the darkness, visible for kilometers in every direction. When it reached the apex of its trajectory, it exploded.

A signal?

Cloudhawk cursed inwardly. When the others sweepers saw the signal they’d come running.

“That damn wolf will be able to follow us anywhere. We can’t shake it.” Cloudhawk said to the Queen. “You gotta use your cross to kill it!”

She was speechless at how stupid his suggestion was. Yes, the holy light could be used at a distance, but using it once drained her of almost all her energy. It was supposed to be used as a last resort. Turning it on a single sweeper and his dog was like smashing a fly with a war hammer.

By now the lizards had overtaken them. They were scrambling up a sand dune up ahead. The wolf rider was guiding the others by scent. They were just too damn fast!

When he saw that the Queen was unwilling to use her powers he skidded to a halt. Under the Queen’s curious and incredulous gaze he picked up a sharp rock and began to weigh it in his hands.

What the hell was this moron doing? The Queen thought.

They looked back and saw the wolf slinking over the dune, like a shadow flitting through the moonlight. It was coming closer, merely a few dozen meters. The beast’s keen green eyes peered through the night for its victims.

Close enough!

Cloudhawk kept his eyes trained on the rotwolf. He suddenly launched himself forward running one step, then another, and another, and another. The wolf spotted him but was stunned that its prey would choose to charge. The other sweepers spilling over the dune also saw the young man coming. They pulled their longbows free and began knocking poison arrows.

Danger! All of Cloudhawk’s hair stood on end.

A handful of archers took aim, perhaps only ten meters from their target. These were practiced killers, hitting their prey from this close was not difficult. Yet Cloudhawk made no effort to dodge. With precise control over every muscle in his body, his legs dug into the sand and sent him skidding. Everything worked in concert to send power up through his calves, thighs, waist, shoulder, arm, and finally his wrist.

Woosh!

What speed! The stone he threw streaked through the air and crashed right into the rotwolf’s snout. It yelped in pain and surprise from a crushed nose and bucked the rider off its back.

Direct hit!

Mantis once told him not to rely on complicated weapons. Any killer worth his salt could end a target with whatever was at hand. Only someone with those skills could call themselves a real master of the wastes. Cloudhawk learned to throw after seeing what Mantis could do with a scalpel.

Cloudhawk had incredible control, speed, strength and perception. He drew on those to pelt the rotwolf’s nose through the darkness… but there was no time to celebrate.

The twang of bowstrings warbled and a hail of arrows followed, many of them aimed right at Cloudhawk. He hunkered down and held up his alpha-wolf pelt. Thud, thud, thud! The arrows pummeled him, but couldn’t fully pierce his coat. All they managed were several nicks and scratches.

Some, though, were aimed at his head where he had no protection.

He was having trouble tracking the black arrows through the darkness but he felt the danger they presented. There were too many for him to dodge or deflect. Then, in this critical moment the Bloodsoaked Queen appeared, dagger in hand.

Ting, ting, clang! She knocked the remaining arrows away before pulling Cloudhawk after her in retreat.

Cloudhawk managed to shout his thanks as they ran. He’d succeeded in taking the rotwolf’s nose out of the equation, but it didn’t improve their situation much. Sweepers continued to close in on all sides. They were in danger of being surrounded.