Medieval 03 - Enchanted

his frightened mount in place.
    At the last instant Simon yanked the bridle, spun
his horse on its hocks, and spurred it to the side.
    The war stallion swept past like a landslide, but
Simon was already beyond reach. Immediately the renegade yanked on
the rein, turning his stallion. But at a full gallop, the turn
would be wide. For a minute or two the eager renegade would be out
of the battle.
    Simon had no chance to appreciate his small
strategic victory. The smallest of the renegades was upon him.
Again Simon forced his horse to wait, then spurred it into flight
so swiftly that great clots of earth leaped from beneath the
horse’s hooves.
    The renegade was expecting such a maneuver and had
slowed to counter it. Still, Simon’s quickness and the
agility of his horse kept them beyond range of the renegade’s
deadly lance.
    Instead of retreating as he had done before, Simon
spurred his horse forward. As he had planned, he was now on the
knight’s left side, the side the renegade had been taking
such care to protect.
    A short, backhanded blow was all Simon could manage
from the saddle of his untrained mount, but it was enough.
Simon’s broadsword thudded into the renegade’s ribs.
Though the edge of the blade was stopped by chain mail, the force
of the blow itself was not. The renegade screamed in pain and rage,
dropped his lance, and doubled over in the saddle.
    Before Simon could follow up the advantage, the
last of the three knights galloped up. A glance told Simon that the
first knight had managed to complete his wide turn, the second
knight was out of the battle, and the third knight was planning to
pin Simon against the second knight’s horse.
    Simon spurred his own mount forward, trying to
evade the third knight and still not come any closer to the first,
bloodthirsty knight who was charging toward him again.
    Evading the third stallion wasn’t difficult,
for the horse was somewhat lame in the left hindquarter. But
Simon’s horse couldn’t spin aside quickly enough to
escape entirely the first knight’s charge.
    In a last, desperate attempt at avoiding the deadly
lance, Simon yanked harshly back and up on the bit and at the same
time raked his mount with spurs. Simon’s horse reared wildly,
hooves flailing. It was a maneuver familiar to war-horses, but
totally unexpected from an untrained animal.
    A hoof hit the first knight’s lance with
numbing force. The big knight grunted as the shaft was wrenched
from his suddenly weak grip.
    Yet even before the lance hit the earth, Simon knew
his luck and skill had reached an end. By the time his horse had
four feet on the ground again, the third knight would be on him.
There would be no room to maneuver. No escape.
    Simon’s only solace was that he had bought
enough time for Ariane’s mare to outrun the war
stallions.
    Grimly Simon hauled at the bit, forcing his horse
around to confront the death that he knew was coming with the next
breath, or the one after, as the third knight’s sword
descended on Simon’s unprotected back.
    What Simon saw as he turned wasn’t death, but
a chestnut juggernaut hurtling over the grass at a right angle to
the third knight. On the back of the thundering mare was a girl
dressed in amethyst, her black hair whipping behind like
hell’s own pennant, and her mouth open with a scream that was
his name.
    Just before the renegade’s sword would have
split Simon’s skull, the heavy mare slammed broadside into
the renegade’s stallion. The horse’s weak hind leg gave
way, tumbling the two mounts with their riders into a pile of
threshing, steel-shod hooves and flailing limbs.
    Even as the felled knight went down, he drew his
battle dagger and turned on the one who had caused his downfall,
either not knowing or not caring that it was an unarmed girl he
sought to kill.
    Simon’s own horse staggered and went to its
knees, but Simon had already kicked free of the stirrups. He landed
as he had trained all his life to land, upright, running, wielding
the heavy broadsword as though it were made of smoke.
    The wide blade descended on the third knight at the
same instant that his dagger slashed out at Ariane. The
renegade’s helm saved his life, turning Simon’s blow
aside.
    Ariane had no such armor. She screamed as she felt
the burning edge of steel cut into her.
    Simon went mad. His broadsword whistled through the
air as he brought it down over his head to cut the renegade in two,
regardless of the armor the man wore.
    Before the