Sunday, May 25, 2014

Timenall & the Captive Gryphon - Chapter 13

Everything seemed to happen at once. The other dragons pushed their boulders down from the rim. Men dropped the leads on their gryphon captives and scrambled from the avalanches created by the huge rolling stones.

As soon as Farloft reached the cage he wrapped his paws around the upper bars and flapped his wings to hover over the hatchlings protectively until Melozzo arrived.

The group of men who had gathered to discuss the problem of getting the hatchling cage around the impediment were regrouping and trying to arm themselves with weapons strapped to the packs on the backs of the their gryphon prisoners - the gryphon were having none of it. They were fearlessly bucking and kicking. The heavy weighted boots on their paws were lethal if they impacted a man’s head or chest.

The other dragons descended following the tumble of rock. They grasp men with claws and teeth and flung them against rock and hard packed trail.

Timenall landed among the gryphon near the caged wagon just as Farloft and Melozzo lifted it from the ground. Running toward Weirim he reached her just as she slammed a booted foot into the shoulder of a Varda. The man went reeling away from her. She followed with a fury he had never seen, nor thought she possessed. With the man on the ground from the first blow she proceeded to relentlessly stomp on him. She left nothing but a bloody corpse when she was finished.

“Get me out of this,” she yelled and shook her head at Timenall leaped to her side.

“Lean your head down,” he shouted over the den of fighting around them.

When Weirim leaned over he grasped the leather strap at the back of her head holding the wire muzzle over her beak and bit through it. He started to work on getting her wings free of their burden. She leaned forward and snapped the straps of the boots on her feet with her beak. It was slow going - much slower than Timenall planned.

The Varda were not going to give up so easy. They were regrouping. Some had been carrying their weapons strapped across their backs. These men wheeled their whips and laid into their gryphon captives with their metal barbed prods. They started to put bolt to crossbow and the lethal projectiles began to fly.

Farloft had just set cage safely down, with Melozzo’s help, back from the rim of the canyon when he heard a cry from Jozwik. An arrow hit her in the hindquarter.

“Stay here,” Farloft ordered. “Get them free.” He leaped back up into the sky and circled to join the fight. 

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