Chapter 22: Saccin's Bridge

“Ivan!” he could hear Trout cry from somewhere behind him, “Ivan you get out here right now or I will beat you blind! We don’t have time for this! …Ivan!”

The rain had started coming down in sheets, though the deeper Ivan went into the woods the thinner the torrent became. The water rolled off his hair in rivulets that caused his bangs to almost completely cover his eyes. This state of near-blindness made it all the more impressive when Ivan leapt for the lowest branch of a pine tree, pulled himself up, and shimmied as far up the tree as he could. His exhaustion from all the excitement of the last few minutes was so thorough, that this point only proved to be a little less than half the height of the tree, but quite sufficient for his purposes. His hands and clothes now covered in sap, perched on a sturdy branch, he turned his attention back towards the direction of the others and waited, thinking.

He could hear Trout’s voice cry out again, but it wavered weakly behind the grumbling peals of thunder.

Ivan wanted to come down, wanted to help, but he was afraid. He knew that if he said something, despite all that he had done for the group and all the ways in which he had proven himself, the chances were fairly high that nobody would believe him. Though Ivan had the capacity of most adults, he was still a child… and, well, there was the fact that he did tend to lie… a lot. Most importantly, though: Ivan knew he had many enemies in the world, people that would do him great harm if given the chance, in some cases, for no reason at all. But even among that sort there were very few people, very few things at all, that he genuinely feared.

And yet he was afraid.

So Ivan breathed, Ivan pondered, Ivan waited and waited on his branch in the rain and did not know what to do.

“I’ll go look for him,” Oliphant volunteered, glancing worriedly at the Lady, “But you should go on ahead… the Justice Knights will not be far behind.”

“No!” Euphrasia’s cried, the rain beginning to cake her hair in long, unruly strips around her face, “We all need to stay together.”

“Yes, you stay Oliphant,” Trout replied loudly, “I’ll go… and I’ll cut off his ears when I find him.”

Trout was pacing the edge of the woods back and forth just a few feet from the wagon as he spoke, kicking up mud all around. The others looked on curiously, save for Oliphant, who stood rigidly by the back of the wagon and gazed longingly for orders from his Lady. Normally quite graceful and composed, Euphrasia appeared uncharacteristically frazzled beneath the cold torrents of rain. She seemed powerless, despite the fact that she remained the only party member on horseback, and still seemed able to keep calm the horses that guided the wagon. Jnii crouched over the edge of the wagon, squinting deeply into the woods while the bird-beast Gareth glanced about absently from his curled up position in the wagon’s corner.

“I’ve never seen him act like that,” Jnii mumbled, “I really wonder what got in to him.”

“I really do not see how it matters,” Gareth sighed, and not for the first time, “He is just a boy, and he seems quite capable. We should really be worried about ourselves.”

“You could have said something sooner,” Jnii sneered over her shoulder at him... or ‘it,’ in any case, “Would have saved a lot of trouble.”

“I could say that I cared,” Gareth growled, “But all I desire is to keep moving and get out of the rain, so I will not lie or bother arguing the point.”

Trout all at once stopped pacing, staring intensely at the woods.

“Damnable boy,” he grumbled under his breath, “Damned boy!” he continued after a thoughtful pause, bellowing loudly into the trees, “Doesn’t he know the Justice Knights would kill a boy just as easily as they would a man?”

There was a long pause before Oliphant finally began taking long, ringing strides towards the woods, raindrops bouncing and exploding off his armor.

“I know this area well,” he said, “I will go after him. Euphrasia, take them north, over Saccin’s Bridge, and wait for me on the other side,” Oliphant directed the next part of his speech towards Trout as he passed by the man, “It’s a little out of the way, but Saccin’s Bridge is suspended by rope. Keep watch, and if the Justice Knights arrive before me, between the lot of you, you should be able to cut it down quickly.”

“Oliphant!” Euphrasia cried again.

“They wont hurt me,” he shouted back, stepping through the threshold of the forest canopy, “If I am caught, they will only return me to Gulliden. The rest of you need to go!”

“Yes,” Trout nodded thoughtfully, “He’s right, of course… I would go too, after all, but my life is quite in danger.”

“Hurry, then!” Oliphant pointed north, “I will be close behind, my lady, I swear it.”

The wagon lurched forward just as Trout pulled himself in. Jnii offered no aid, emphatically crossing her arms and turning away from the lean rogue as he made a seat beside her.

“What…?” he said.

“Could you lack any more chivalry?” she muttered.

“Yes,” Trout replied, quite confidently.

The rain came down harder and lightning streaked the sky as they fled. The thunder was not far behind.

Ivan nearly jumped at the crack of it. In his fear he had forgotten how things such as trees were supposed to be avoided in the event of a thunderstorm. He recalled a few of the wise words given by Box the Elder, Box the Blacksmith’s father, who would often lure the young ones around during village events to tells stories of his many journeys as a mapmaker. Ivan’s favorite stories were always the ones were Box and his companions were violently injured.

“… but the wolves in the northern lands are a vicious lot,” he once said, “They came for us again the next night, and though we managed to shimmy into the trees once more, nature soon became our next foe. The fiercest storm you did ever see brewed up that night, and there in the limbs of the tallest northern oak for miles around we did tough it out, still weary and wounded from the night before. After hours of waiting, clinging to those safe branches in fear of the wind and toothy death below, God himself did bring down his rage to punish those of us who deserved it. A fiery breath of lightning rained down upon the oak, knocking the tree like a mighty hammer and toppling it from it’s base, sending us all flailing towards the earth. Somehow, all but one of us survived the fall, the one being Shifty Pete, whom we all suspected had been thieving from us in the night… and was thusly punished by God and crushed beneath the oaken mass. Granted, Major Durnby was pinned beneath branches and then torn apart by the wolves as we fled, but he was a good man and it was a noble sacrifice that allowed the rest of us to live that night… except for Bryson… who hurt his leg in the fall and could not keep pace with us… and… well… was torn apart by wolves. Good man as well. So there it is. What was my point? Right… yes… all of you, except for Ivan, should remember to avoid trees during a storm. Ivan, on the other hand, will grow up to be as bad as old Shifty Pete and could stand to know the fear of God. Isn’t that right, Ivan?”

Box the Elder died a few months after this story. During the funeral procession, everyone was surprised to arrive at the gravesite and find the headstone missing, later to be found halfway up a tree over a hundred feet away. Box the Blacksmith was so incensed that he waited on the Applesmith’s porch until dawn to find Ivan to no avail. Instead, he caught the lad a week later and lashed him with a chain. Ivan later threw his tools in the village well. The feud went on for quite some time.

Ivan was just about to return his cycle of thought back towards the original idea of climbing down, just in case God did in fact have an immediate sense of justice, when he was suddenly snapped back to reality by nearby movement. His heart raced.

“Boy!” an attached voice became clearer, “Boy, come out so we can talk about this.”

Even in the dull light cast by the sky, fragmented by the wind-whipped trees, Ivan could make out the shine of Oliphant’s armor. He could also see that the knight’s hand was rather disturbingly draped over his sword’s hilt. Ivan shivered and tried to somehow make himself more hidden behind branches than he already was.

“I know what you saw me do, and I mean you no harm,” he continued shouting, walking slowly and pushing his way through brush, “My only intent was to keep Lady Euphrasia safe, have her returned to our Lord without danger overcoming anyone. It is my duty, you understand.”

The Knight’s gaze was oddly fixed fast on the path in front of him. Ivan gasped as he realized he was being tracked. As he had worried, the fear dulled his wits and he had forgotten he had left a trail. The muddy earth was a veritable map to his demise and it was betraying him with every second. Ivan’s eyes darted around, soaking in options, grasping for something…

To your left, boy. Look where the arm meets the body.

Mirrathan was still there, in his head. He had thought the magi’s voice had left him once they had cleared the tower. He scanned the area to his left and, surely, there was something stuck in the notch where the branch he sat on met the tree. Taking the object and examining it, he found it to be a rock, a black rock, about the size of his fist. It was unlike any he had ever seen.

“Is it a magic rock?” Ivan whispered as hopefully and softly as he could.

It can save you, but it is not magic.

Disappointed but understanding, Ivan wasted no time in looking over his shoulder, taking aim, and hurling the stone into the furthest bush behind him that he thought he could hit. The bush seemed to jump with the impact, and Oliphant jumped accordingly, keeping his head level like a dog as he moved double time towards the bush in question. Ivan descended the tree like a feather, dropping to the ground and racing his way back towards the others. He stopped after he felt he had a good lead on his pursuer, urged by a curiosity beyond his understanding to surmise what could have been from behind a safely concealing tree. Turning, he caught Oliphant descending with a creeping motion towards the bush, only to suddenly draw out and lash at the plant violently with his sword. Ivan felt a lump the size of the stone he had just held sink into his stomach and explode. The Knight surveyed his attack after a few solid hacks and looked disturbingly unsatisfied, perking his head back up and scanning about for an explanation.

“Come now, boy,” Oliphant shouted, “Just share a few words with me.”

Ivan backed away quietly, making every effort to keep a tree between his sightline of Oliphant until he was far enough away to make a dash.

Unfortunately, in the open grass and low-rolling hills outside the sheltering wilderness, Ivan found that the others had left him behind with the Knight. He was mad enough to spit over the idea of it, and so he did, with a silent vow to make Trout suffer. Once he had composed himself, he looked for the heavy wagon tracks in the mud and followed them north as best he could.

“Shouldn’t we be trying to cover these tracks or something?” Jnii noted, peering over the back of the wagon as it slogged along through grass and mud, “I mean, assuming the Knights manage to compose themselves faster than we expected.”

Trout scoffed.

“If what Olipants says is true, then we’ll just chop up the bridge, one-two, and it’ll take the Justice Knights half a day to get anywhere near us.”

“I wish you’d stop calling him that,” Jnii sighed, “And what happens if they get to us before he arrives with Ivan?”

“It was the lad’s fault for running off, then.”

“So Oliphant should be punished too?” Jnii protested loudly.

“We are not cutting down the bridge without Oliphant,” Euphrasia called back quite matter-of-factly from her place at the lead, still riding alongside the horses.

“Exactly! So shouldn’t we be worried about our tracks?” Jnii furthered her protest.

Gareth abruptly let out a shout that wavered between his deep, bellowing voice and the sound of a shrill, eagle’s cry.

“Do you people ever stop arguing?” he growled at the end.

As if on cue, a tiny head popped out from the pouch that sat before Gareth’s paws. The few wisps of hair left on Dool the Malignant’s shining scalp flew about wildly in the winds.

“A track cannot be tracked if it is not there,” he peeped, his head then becoming battered about by the large drops of rain, “My then, no need to be so angry! Hitting and spitting, no need, indeed. I’ll get right on it.”

The group in the wagon stared in shock as the magi’s slipped back into his pouch without another word.

“Good,” Gareth said, looking up, “You woke him up.”

“That was hardly us, beast,” Trout pointed back, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole Kingdom knew our location after that little fit of yours.”

Jnii did not take her eyes off the pouch.

“What do you suppose he’s doing in there?” she asked.

“You say that as if we can stop him,” Gareth replied.

“Worst case scenario?” Trout asked, with a tone that seemed quite certain that he would have some experience by which he could compare.

Gareth paused, eyes slightly darting about in contemplation.

“He set me on fire last month,” he finally said.

“Ha!” Trout said quickly, “Hardly a threat in all this rain, anyway. Besides, have you ever had burning pitch thrown on your groin? Far worse than just fire, let me tell you.”

“… You disgust me.”

“Not to interrupt your bonding moment, children,” on pure suspicion, Jnii had decided to peek over the back of the wagon again, and could not seem to wrench her gaze away as she spoke, “But you should see this.”

Gareth quickly craned his head around, hardly having to shift his body at all, and peeked over the side. Trout slid up beside Jnii, on his knees, and leaned over the back as she did. What they seemed to be witnessing, as a group, was the act of the entire wagon, and all the horses, as well as a singular and particular piece of earthen mass upon which all the objects traversed, sort of unzipping the rest of the world around them. In an oval shape that surrounded them, the horses appeared to be dragging a chunk of the planet through the rest of the ground as if it were an iceberg floating through frigid waters. It was an act of visual trickery made even more curious by the fact that the horses stood and seemed to canter along the very same piece of land that was being dragged, the wagon’s wheels turning as well. Rocks and trees were passing them by, almost jealous as they were pushed neatly from the wagon’s path and left to return as they were in their wake.

Trout was the only one who could seem to react at all, standing up and walking the confusing perimeter of the wagon in his examination of the phenomenon.

“Euphrasia…?” he finally asked.

“I’m trying not to notice,” she said, seeming to take great care in only moving in a particular way, as if a predator were nearby that she did not want to alert.

“What would happen if we tried to stop?” he continued.

“I would rather not investigate the matter, Beurel,” she said sharply, “To be frank, I would rather not attempt to change pace at all.”

“What do you suppose would happen were I to jump off?”

“Sit down, fool human,” Gareth interjected quickly, bringing his attention back to the wagon, “None of this would have even been necessary had your friend not run off like a… fool.”

“Ha! He’s no more my friend than yours. I’d settle for the pitch in the crotch again.”

Jnii sat back and pulled her eyes away from the ground, instead looking off into the distance behind them. Pushing away the wet hair that had matted itself to her face, she found she could not see far through the veils of water.

“Well I hope Oliphant finds Ivan,” she said, “Because Ivan’s not going to be able to find us.”

Ivan was, in fact, quite surprised to find the wagon tracks ending abruptly at a point which looked to be no more than a suspicious growth of grass. It looked at if a small tree had been uprooted, leaving a meager dot where the grass was growing towards itself in a violent effort to fill in the inch-wide piece of dirt. He spat on the point and circled around the area for a moment, looking for some sign of anything, a clue, an oddity that would give direction. He found nothing. Eventually, Ivan returned to that point he could not explain and examined it closely.

You need to hold still.

“Are you still there?” Ivan said, “What the hell is going on here?”

What is going on is that you are lucky, and you should be thankful for it, but not now. Now you must simply not move.

“What are you going to do to me?”

Sh.

Ivan could hardly distinguish the rumbling of hooves making their way towards him from the low groan of thunder in the wind. Riders were coming up behind him, and though every muscle in his body and synapse in his brain ached to, at the very least, turn his head to catch sight of the onslaught, he could not ignore Mirrathan’s words. Ivan knew that the undead sorcerer had better intentions towards him than most living people ever would, and he had come to gain both a fascination and faith in his field. In short, he trusted the mage… not to get him killed, in any case, and so Ivan surprised even himself and remained absolutely still, even as the terrifying horde of horses rode up to come to a stop just inches from his back.

In actuality, there were only about eight able-bodied Justice Knights that had managed to band themselves together for a pursuit after the confusion that had occurred back at the campsite. For Ivan, though, staring off into the empty rain ahead of him, quite prone to an attack from behind, it could have been an army. Their horses whinnied and shuffled about, eager to keep running. The group had halted, though, and remained amazingly silent for some time, as if stunned to find a boy standing the rain in the middle of nowhere.

“The trail has disappeared, Sir Guy,” a Knight called out.

“Don’t you think I can see that?” a familiar voice replied, it was the man that had shouted to them from the tower’s base before, “It is not a great surprise. They have magicians in their number.”

“Do we trust the note, then?”

“It would seem we have no choice,” he sighed, then switched his tone to be a rallying command, “Onward to Saccin’s bridge, men! No magic is powerful enough to blind Justice!”

“Justice!” the men loudly cried back.

They spurred their steeds forward, and for a moment Ivan braced himself for a thorough trampling. Strangely, though, he noticed the Knights broke formation to go around him, only to fall back in formation once a few feet beyond. Ivan had the odd sensation that he had, in fact, been a tree for a few moments, or at least inside his clever hiding-stump that he had used to fool the Knights before.

Go then. You have tracks to follow, now.

“Yeah, I’m not stupid.”

Ivan wasted no time in jogging after the Knights.

I suppose not. But remember that’s twice you owe me now, Ivan.

I owe you nothing, you sack of compost.

Ha… good then! On both counts. You have already learned much.

“What?”

No matter. Though you should know that once you cross the river, you will be beyond my reach. I will no longer be able to aid you as I have.

“Sure.”

Your insolence is astounding. Good luck to you.

Saccin’s bridge was a rope suspension bridge built by the great lumberjack, Saccin Fatbeard, many years ago. Saccin was a large and bright man, who had taken to the woods as an escape from humanity when he was very young and harbored a keen loathing of civilization. He had built a home for himself deep in the Black Woods, just on the northern side of the Velais River. Saccin and his like-minded lumberjack companions found it to be a quite profitable and satisfying life, living further away from civilization than most were willing and occupying themselves with their handiwork.

At first, the group would largely take care of the work of making planks by hand, taking shipments of lumber several miles into Brasfork once a week. Eventually, Saccin had the bright idea to establish a mill in Brasfork and simply float the trees down to it using the powerful currents of the Velais river. This worked quite well, both boosting production and giving Saccin more time for his other interests, in particular, building and traveling. Bridge building proved to be a hobby that appropriately fused both interests, and so he immediately set to work on building a small bridge that would allow him to cross the Velais without having to travel half a day’s journey east. The main problem, of course, proved to be that the Velais was very wide, and was so for miles in both directions. This happened to be much of the reason the existing bridge had been built so far away, at a point where the river remained quite narrow.

Saccin Fatbeard (who, as a point of interest, only donned a moustache) decided to employ very thick hemp rope, combined with planks made by his own design. He chose a point where the ground raised high over the water on both sides, and appeared sturdy enough to support such a project. He struggled for years to make an appropriate bridge, much time spent in planning, often having to scrap the project and start over from scratch. Ultimately, he made a fine bridge, excellent for foot travel, and large and sturdy enough to support the weight of a brave horse with a cart or small wagon. Unfortunately, upon completion of the bridge, Saccin was so determined to christen his project by being the first to trod across it, despite the heavy winds that day, he was blown clean off the bridge and into the waters below. It was not a far drop, but he quite thoroughly drowned in the violent current of the Velais… his body to be eventually found among the logs downstream… at the Brasfork mill.

Needless to say, this earned the bridge a rather questionable reputation for miles around, regardless of its actual quality. It became an object that the locals would only utilize only if absolutely necessary, mostly to be traversed by the occasional wanderer with absolutely no awareness of its history.

Eurphrasia and Gareth knew all of this, and Trout and Jnii certainly had heard enough to be wary, for all four looked on with some degree of trepidation as the wagon slowed along the southern bank of the Velais and came upon Saccin’s ominous bridge. The rain had let up slightly, but the wind was strong along the river, ever so slightly rocking the bridge from side to side.

“The wagon is too big for this,” Euphrasia said, “I would not risk it in this weather.”

Trout and Jnii had jumped out of the wagon and started stretching before the Lady had even completed speaking. Gareth stood and stretched his wings, taking up Dool’s pouch in his mouth. As Trout finished stretching, he fumbled to get his pack and other supplies out of the wagon and found Gareth motioning to him to take the pouch.

“I’m not taking that,” he said.

Gareth’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“Maybe if shrinky there had thought to give you some hands you-”

“Enough already!” Jnii interrupted, gingerly removing the pouch from Gareth’s mouth, “I’ll take it.”

Euphrasia dismounted and circled the wagon, looking deeply into the mist to the south and east. Trout and Jnii began to unfasten the horses from the wagon. Gareth poised to leap off the wagon, when he suddenly seemed to catch sight of something off in the direction the Lady was gazing, his face firm. He then leapt to the wet ground and approached Euphrasia’s side.

“I’m afraid you are going to have to make some difficult decisions in the near future, my lady,” he spoke solemnly, “The Justice Knights approach.”

Euphrasia’s eyes widened as she turned toward the beast, “What? So soon…? How…?”

“They have ways!” Trout shouted.

The noble Beurel had abandoned his effort with the horses at the sound of the word ‘justice’ and was already stepping out on to the bridge. He stalled there for a moment, but was positioned as to make it quite clear he would not be waiting long.

“We have to forget the horses now,” he continued, calling over his shoulder, “Or we’ll never be able to cross the bridge in time.”

“No!” Euphrasia cried back, “We can’t go without the others!”

“Easy for you to say! They don’t intend to kill you!”

“He’s right, though he may be an ass about it,” Gareth replied, “Go. Cross the bridge and cut it down. We will get the others across later. I will stall the Knights.”

Jnii followed Trout’s lead after this comment, checking to make sure Dool’s pouch was fastened tightly to her waist before moving towards the bridge.

“What about you?” she asked.

“The lightning has stopped,” Gareth replied, spreading his wings out to their fullest, taking care to avoid the Lady, “So I will dare to show them something more frightening.”

Euphrasia backed away to follow the others as Gareth slowly began beating his wings. At first, it did not seem the powerful lashing would be able to lift more than the front half of his massive bulk, which hovered off the ground about a foot, waiting eagerly for the back half to follow. But eventually the wings whipped faster than it seemed they should be able, and Gareth leapt like a cat with his powerful hindquarters, sending him rocketing up and forward in a vicious glide. Jnii and Euphrasia stood in awe of it for a moment, though Trout had not even noticed in his hustle to cross the bridge.

“Slow down!” Jnii said as she turned, “You can be such a filthy coward.”

“Only when I don’t have time for chivalry!” he called back.

Euphrasia approached the bridge just behind Jnii. The two of them gazed at the planks for a moment.

“You alright?” Jnii asked.

“Not at all.”

“Me either.”

Jnii stepped out cautiously and began walking, with Euphrasia not far behind. The wind whipped up as Trout reached the bridge’s midpoint, knocking him towards one side of the bridge and forcing him to stop for a moment and regain his balance. The ladies caught up with him after a minute.

“Decided to try that chivalry thing out after all?” Jnii toyed.

“The wind is bad,” he replied, “Just realized that it might be best for us to stay closer together, in case one of us slips.”

“Noble indeed, Beurel,” the Lady sighed.

The group continued across the second half of the bridge. The wind picked up from a different direction once they had neared the last quarter, carrying with it the sound of men shouting in fear. All three stopped for a moment to look over their shoulders, though all they could see were the horses and the wagon, as they had left them.

“Eerie,” Jnii mumbled.

“Balls,” Trout replied in a similar tone, almost instinctively, as he turned back towards the task at hand to find two men now standing at the other end of the bridge.

“What did you say?” Jnii said indignantly.

“Be quiet a minute,” Trout barked.

Trout drew his sword, grasping on to the side of the bridge tightly with his free hand.

“What’s going on?” Euphrasia gasped.

“You’ve wandered a little further than Gulliden permitted, my lady,” a familiar voice called out from in front of them, “It is time to go home.”

“What…? Ourood?” she replied, trying to look past the others, “What is the meaning of this?”

“The meaning is that you all need to turn around.”

Indeed, the knight Ourood stepped out from the shadows and on to the bridge, brushing the water from his magnificent moustache as it wiggled around inside his silver helmet. Braggin was the other man, and he moved forward to stand at Ourood’s side, such that they formed an intimidating wall of armor.

“Gulliden has become rather suspicious of all your traveling,” he continued, “Gallivanting about with strange rogues and what not.”

“He had you follow us?” the Lady said harshly.

“All you were to do was take our guests to Dool and return,” he shrugged, “If that was all you had done, there would be no need for this. Now turn around.”

“Things changed!” she said, “Dool is sick! He will die without our help! Gulliden would understand that!”

“Then that is for Gulliden to decide,” he replied quickly, “Now turn around!”

“If we turn around,” Trout cut in sharply, “Then not only will Dool die, but the Justice Knights will kill the rest of us.”

“Fa! Perhaps you should have thought of that before you broke the law.”

“Hey! I didn’t do anything!” Jnii cried out.

“Enough!” Ourood said, drawing his sword, Braggin quickly doing the same, “Turn around!”

The knight’s moustache twitched violently. He took a step forward and Braggin moved with him, a slightly more eager and sadistic look in his eyes.

“You would put your Lady’s life in danger on this bridge?” Trout said, floundering (ha).

“We were given this mission to make up for our cowardice against the skeleton,” Ourood said, making it quite clear he had no intention of exchanging any more words on the subject, “Right now, all of our lives are in danger.”

Gareth soared toward the enemy, perfectly poised and ready to dive, when he caught sight of something a ways beyond his target. A speck. He decided to investigate, swooping over the Justice Knight’s heads just low enough as to spark some confusion and befuddled exclamations as he passed. He eventually slid to a stop quite a distance beyond the Knights, digging his claws into the ground to slow his momentum just beside the speck he had seen before and now identified as Ivan. The boy froze in his tracks, panting, speechless. Gareth cantered towards him, turning such that he was right alongside Ivan, and then extending his wings.

“Get on.” Gareth barked.

“On?”

“Climb on my back!” he replied with equal harshness, “Hurry!”

Ivan wasted no time at the second command, certain that his punishment would entail being swallowed whole. Grabbing frantically at hair and feather alike, the boy pulled his way on to the beast’s broad, powerful back, straddling him like a horse.

“Now hold on.”

Ivan’s hair flew up around his face as Gareth’s wings began to pump, gently lifting them off the ground. He was just getting used to the process when the wings began to flap faster, becoming quite terrifying, such that with those hind legs finally pushed off for a launch Ivan very nearly rolled right off his back.

“I said hold on!” Gareth shouted back.

“Sorry!” Ivan replied.

Wind and rain stung his face as they glided north. Looking down fearlessly, beyond Gareth’s shoulder, he could see the small regiment of Justice Knights he had been pursuing. Gareth shifted his wings such that they angled off to the right of the men, preparing to circle around and come at the group from the side. They paralleled the Velais river for a moment, and Ivan made note of the small bridge that was nearby as they began a descent.

“When I land, you must jump down and run,” Gareth commanded, “Head towards that bridge, do you see it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

For superb effect, Gareth did not coast towards the ground as he had before. Coming up from the Knight’s blind side, lurched his bestial form to hover just above them and then drop like a stone in their path while turning to face them. Gareth slid in the mud until he came to a stop- dirt, screams and horses flying every which way from his being. Ivan had little difficulty jumping from Gareth’s back, rolling with the momentum of his spin and then hitting the ground running without looking back.

Among the eight Justice Knights, two steeds were so dumbstruck with fear at the sight of Gareth that they turned away from the attack entirely with the hope of escaping. Two more reared back such that their riders capsized entirely off their saddles, one of whom remained being dragged around by his horse with his foot stuck fast in the stirrup. This man pitifully whimpered the word ‘justice’ over and over again while being dragged over rocks. The four remaining men, able to calm their steeds quickly, drew their swords. Sir Guy was among these four, and proved himself to be the only among their number at all to not appear fearful at the sight of the enemy. Still under command of the elements of fear and surprise, Gareth shrieked and lunged forward with his powerful jaws. In a flash, he had torn a sizeable chunk of flesh out of one of the Knight’s horses, causing it to cry out and collapse immediately. Gareth stepped back, his eyes gleaming forth a challenge as he stretched out his throat and swallowed the lump of meat whole.

“Steady men!” Guy cried out, drawing his sword and doing his best to ignore the grotesque act that had been performed, “For Justice!”

Jnii pulled at her gloves, making sure they were tight against her hands as the men came forward. They were both sizing up Trout, giving her and Euphrasia little concern. All three men appeared very anxious, holding to their swords in one hand and then keeping a grip on the bridge with the other. Ourood feigned a lunge that caused Trout to sidestep, and then Braggin swooped in immediately afterward in an attempt to catch him off guard, but Trout parried it rather ably. The group, as a whole, found themselves retreating against the two knights, forced backward by their combined jabs and slices until they were almost back to the bridge’s midpoint. Eventually Braggin thought he had a shot at Trout with his guard down to one side and made a heavy-handed slice towards his head that forced him to let go of the bridge. Trout ducked the swipe, and, out of lack of a better idea, drove himself forward as he stood, aiming his shoulder toward Braggin’s midsection with the hopes of catching him off balance. The ploy worked, though Braggin managing to grab enough of Trout’s torso to bring the man with him as he toppled backwards loudly on to the planks.

Ourood wasted no time in attempting to monopolize on the event, bringing his sword back for a powerful stab towards the ground- most likely against Braggin’s potential well-being as well as Trout’s. The two men wrestled for just a moment before Ourood looked as if he would have a go at an attack, when he was quite suddenly pounded from behind. Jnii had pummeled the knight against the back of his head with her gloved fist, sending the moustached man stumbling forward over the others and nearly clean over the bridge railing. He clung to those ropes for support, head dangling senselessly over the edge as he watched his helm fly loose from his skull and drop into the churning waters below. He turned back towards the fray, gritting his teeth, expecting to find some new foe that had jumped in, but stared in shock to see only the same women he had seen before.

Trout and Braggin rolled from one side of the bridge to the other, swords spinning about like mad cyclones, such that Jnii felt it impossible to slip by them to follow up her attack. And while she could hit hard, she knew, but she did not have the weight or leverage to try to pry Trout and Braggin apart from their scuffle. This being the case, she simply stood her ground and waited for an opportunity to help.

“Help me, you psychotic harlot!” Trout beckoned.

The curious rogue found himself quite seriously pinned on top of the full weight of Braggin and his armor. The knight smiled at this advantage and took better grip on his sword for an attack, but Jnii quickly brought down both her fists like hammers in the general location of the knight’s kidneys. He dropped his weapon and lost his breath for a moment as his backside rippled with that inexplicable pain, a force that had managed to dent his armor. Trout let out a laugh of success and pushed the knight off him, backwards, just in time to roll out of the way of Ourood’s blade, allowing it to glance harmlessly off the bridge planks. Jnii dodged out of the way of the flopping body to watch Trout roll to his feet and awkwardly swipe at Ourood’s face, though glanced away by his armored shoulder.

Euphrasia looked on quite helplessly during all this, having no proper weapon for the combat and being in too precarious of a position to attempt to use her other means of defense. The bridge was too narrow for more than two people to engage at a single time, regardless, and so she simply waited for a chance to make herself useful. Needless to say, she nearly jumped clean off the bridge from fright when a voice broke out from right behind her.

“What’s going on?” it asked.

She turned, reaching for a knife at her waist, looking high for an attacker, though only having to look down at a small boy.

“Ivan?” she gasped.

“… sorry.”

“Where is Oliphant…? And Gareth?”

Ivan shrugged.

At this particular moment, Jnii was making the effort to crouch down close enough to Braggin to pry off his helmet and attempt to knock him out cold. But Braggin instinctively lashed out at his attacker, throwing up a gauntleted fist that caught Jnii across the side of the face and sent her sprawling backwards with a meek cry. Euphrasia caught her as she toppled in her direction, both of them stumbling backwards a ways past Ivan, who simply turned towards the knight and glared. Trout and Ourood were both too busy exchanging sword blows to pay much attention, though Ivan would like to think that the wily rogue would have been impressed to see him throw himself at Braggin’s back and wrap his arms around his neck like a vice.

“Nobody hits Jnii, you crapwad,” he shouted, Braggin confusedly shouting and cursing all the while.

But before this exchange could escalate, everyone on the bridge found themselves freezing in place, silent, all at once as they caught the sound of an unidentifiable whining noise from somewhere in the mist off to the eastern side of the bridge. Ivan was the only one that really recognized it, because he had heard it just a moment ago.

“Hold on to something!” he shouted, tightening his grip on Braggin’s throat and causing him to gasp.

Everyone braced themselves instinctively more than because of Ivan’s words, and in another second it was clear that the whining was the shrill shriek of a bird of prey. Gareth’s huge body streaked through the rain and struck itself against the side of the bridge right near Ourood with the force of a battering ram. The knight cried out with insane peals of fear as Gareth’s bestial head snapped at him repeatedly through the gaps of rope that comprised the railing. Talons lashed out as well, and were it not for his armor Ourood would have been fast torn to pieces. Trout simply tried to cover his face and keep away from the flurry of violence.

Those standing further away, though frightened by the sudden impact to the bridge and wild screaming, found themselves slightly more concerned with the sounds of snapping rope and cracking planks. Jnii clutched at her injured face as Euphrasia helped her to her feet, the Lady looking over her shoulder to size up the condition of the bridge only to spot the presence of Justice Knights about to step out upon it.

“No!” she screamed to them, “It’s too much weight! Go back!”

The Knights paused and glanced skeptically at one another.

“Do not listen to her, men!” Sir Guy retaliated, urging them onward, “She is only trying to deceive you with… non-Justice.”

“Non-justice?”

“Is that an actual thing?”

“Quiet! Go! I shall guard your flank!”

The handful of men pressed onward, muttering as Guy remained behind.

The sights of fraying rope and sounds of creaking wood worsened as the Knights stepped out further.

“By the Gods… We have to get off the bridge!” Euphrasia screamed, turning back towards the others.

“Gareth’s wings are caught in the rope!” Trout hollered back, still protecting his face.

Gareth, in fact, had attempted to end his attack some time ago, only to be caught twisting and flailing within the heavy grid of hemp. Ourood had sunk to his knees in tears, attempting to crawl away while clutching his face, streams of blood running down his armor. The women made a hasty attempt to slide by the struggling Braggin, but the knight lashed out wildly in an attempt to fling Ivan from his neck sending Euphrasia against the ropes and Jnii spinning back in the wrong direction. A stinging crack then broke the air, announcing the collapse of the entire eastern edge of the bridge such that the entirety of the structure now hung perpendicular to the water.

Having little grip on much of anything of worth, Braggin, Ivan, Euphrasia and two of the four Justice Knights were cast into the mercy of the waters below with a resounding splash. One of the Justice Knights had turned and fled back to solid ground at the first sign of collapse, only to be promptly run through by Sir Guy. The one remaining Knight quietly clung to the bridge, glancing down to determine the fate of his comrades. Much further along the bridge, Trout clung to the ropes as well, though having lost his sword in deciding to do so. A ways beyond that, Ourood had somehow managed to loop his arm through a sturdy knot at the first sign the bridge would go, leaving him limply dangling. Jnii was the only person not clinging to the ropes, instead holding fast to one of the bound planks more towards the southern end of the bridge with an iron grip. Gareth was still tangled precariously by his wings, suspended just below Trout, though in the fall some of the rope had gone taut around his neck, choking him more and more as he struggled.

There was no immediate sign of those that fell into the water.

After a moment of aweing silence, Trout let out a peal of laughter.

“Right then,” he said, glancing down to find Gareth being strangled just feet away, “Oh… dear. Ah- Hang on, Gareth!”

Trout turned his head all about, searching for a solution.

“Don’t worry! I’ll think… of… something. Hm. Are you okay over there, Jnii?”

“No! I’m going to die, help!” she screamed.

While watching her, Trout caught sight of the remaining support rope fraying, just a few feet away. He sighed.

“Good enough… Alright, here we go!”

The pitiful remains of the bridge broke apart from the middle, sending each side of the bridge crashing down into the river. After a moment of running along with the fast current, the respectively anchored sides of the bridge washed up along the banks. Trout, soaking wet and cold, immediately leapt to his feet and attended to unbinding Gareth. The beast was frighteningly still, but breathing… unconscious, though Trout noticed that he had at some point gained a minor sword wound to his side. He grumbled and glanced around his side of the river. Ourood was nowhere to be seen. Looking to the water, neither could he see a sign of anyone that had fallen in. Across on the other bank, his heart sank as he spotted Sir Guy making his way down a slope to examine the ruins on his side of the bank. The knight bent down near the water and grabbed at something, Jnii’s hair, pulling her head up off the ground and then the rest of her to her feet.

Trout cursed.

When Ivan emerged from the water, there was nothing even remotely familiar around him. Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that there was nothing familiar around him that he could see. He could not see the bridge, he could not see his companions, he could not see Braggin, though the last of these three was in fact not far away at all. Ivan was too bewildered to notice it until it was too late, but the man was clutching to his ankle.

Just as soon as he was breathing back in the open air, the powerful muscle had submerged him again. Braggin was gripping at his leg with the same ferocity with which Ivan had done to his neck just moments before. He could see the knight’s face now beneath the water, terrified, his armor dragging him down to the bottom. Ivan wrestled with him, tried his hardest to push away, but they both kept sinking. Then in another second, when Ivan was certain it was all over, the terror reached it’s peak and then was gone, numb, and he kicked away the arm that held him.

He gasped for air, looking around once again for some sign of friend or foe, but all he could see were a few planks from the bridge floating all around him. One of the planks a few feet downstream from him seemed to have a form settled on top of it. Ivan swam towards the mysterious shape to find Euphrasia resting what little of her body that she could upon it.

“Euphrasia!” Ivan said hopefully, “Are you okay?”

“Ivan,” she muttered, strangely motionless, “Oh my. I believe… I hit my head.”

Looking her over, Ivan noticed that the Lady had blood running down her forehead. She appeared sleepy, just barely clinging to the board as they flowed along with the current. Ivan pulled another plank towards him from nearby and slid it underneath her to support the original.

“We need to get out of the water and back to the others,” Ivan told her, “Come on, kick towards the bank.”

“I… I don’t think I can Ivan,” she mumbled, closing her eyes, “I’m sorry.”`

“I’m not strong enough to swim for us both,” Ivan pleaded, “Please!”

Euphrasia did not respond.