“It’s here man! Here!” The man beside him yelled hysterically. Mikahl was brought back to the moment by the beast’s hissing roar. He followed the man’s finger. He was pointing down at Mikahl’s sword. It was lying in the grass just a few feet away.
The creature roared out again. The horrible blast sent bloody, foamy spray out over them in a warm, breathy spew. The whole idea of the situation filled Mikahl with rage. He strode purposely over to his old sword, picked it up, and turned toward the blasted creature that had killed his horse. “Think, then act.” He heard King Balton’s voice speak the words in his mind, but he ignored them.
The giant lizard’s skin looked like rough tree bark, but it appeared to be much harder. The blood drenched man had managed to gouge several deep wounds on the inside of, and around the thing’s mouth, but his attempts to stab it anywhere else had resulted in mere scratches. Only its neck and breast area looked to be vulnerable to Mikahl. He still didn’t understand why the bloody beast was leashed to the fallen tree. He was glad it was though. It couldn’t leave the water to get all the way at them. Then there was the man. He was bald, and huge, almost as big as Lord Gregory. He was covered in blood, but didn’t seem to be hurt too badly. The giant lizard beast was dripping and spraying blood everywhere. Mikahl decided that was where the blood on the man had come from. He saw that the lizard’s tongue wasn’t a problem anymore. Only the snapping mouth, which twisted and shook, then lunged, and withdrew, had to be avoided.
“Where are you at man? Are ye daft?” the frustrated man managed to ask, just before the creature snapped down at him again. As the beast withdrew, he stepped forward, and stabbed his spear into the pale, scaly flesh under the creature’s jaw.
“Drive it deep, and hold it up!” Mikahl suddenly yelled, as he charged up under the beast’s neck. He’d had enough of this. His half conscious brain was clouded in a scarlet mist. He aimed for what might be the throat, and yelled. He used all the strength he had to drive his blade home. The creature brought its head down hard, trying to crush Mikahl under its weight. Mikahl let go of the sword, just in time, and leapt away, leaving his blade buried halfway into the lizard’s neck. The creature’s attempt to smash him, only forced the sword in deeper. A scrabbling claw managed to hook into Mikahl’s chain mail armor, but his momentum somehow won him free.
“Yahhhh!” The blood covered man yelled in acknowledgment of Mikahl’s insane attack. A second later, he was slung away from the grip he had on his spear, when the creature raised up from the ground, and shook its head like a terrier shaking a rat. The spear went flying from the monster lizard’s mouth, and the man followed it with his eyes, as he urged Mikahl away from the beast.
The creature thrashed and hissed, and thrashed some more, throwing bloody spume and pond water everywhere. Its death throes didn’t last long though, and the thing slowly collapsed into a twitching heap. Only its head and front legs were visible at first, then gradually, the rest of its long reptilian body floated to the surface of the pond, jerking occasionally in protest of death.
“Fargin big bastard, eh?” The man was bent over with his hands on his knees, laughing between his gasping breaths.
Mikahl fell to the ground and glared at him. He wanted nothing more than to go to Windfoot, but he was too sore to move.
“Why didn’t it advance on us?” he asked.
“See that busted up tree over yond?” The man pointed across the pond to the stripped trunk Mikahl had seen sliding across the ground earlier.
“A little while ago that was a healthy tree, still in the ground,” the man explained.
He squatted down a little closer to where Mikahl was laying, and then he continued.
“That fargin Bark Skinner pulled it up, roots and all, and drug it through the forest.” He laughed at the absurdity of it. “I was sure my chain would snap. I guess it’s true; Wildermont steel is the best in the world. That chain proved up to the test today, even when yon tree wedged itself stuck over there.”
“Why in all the hells was that thing chained to a tree?” asked Mikahl..
The man looked at Mikahl closely then. His brows narrowed. He reached up with his hand and used his thumb to wipe away some of the blood under Mikahl’s busted nose.
“Bah!” The man stood with the wince. “It got caught in my trap, boy.” The man belted out a hearty chuckle. “I thought ye had hair on your lip, but it was not but dirt and blood. You’re just a pup.”
Mikahl felt himself flush. The sensation was partly from embarrassment, but also from indignant anger. Either way, the rush of blood to his face reminded him of how swollen and battered it was.
“I might just be a Squire – a boy, but I just saved your hide.”
The man looked at him again, taking him in from head to toe. After a moment, a white grin split the man’s dirty, bloody face.