Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

of the camp from where they are,” said Samuel. “That’s why we gave ourselves a delay. Let’s just stick to the plan and wait for the others to attack.”
    “But I’m hungry! Look, even the Saxons think it’s lunchtime.”
    He pointed at a black cast-iron cauldron that sat on top of a campfire not far from the central tower. Several Saxon warriors were helping themselves to a bowl of hot stew. A little farther from the cauldron, a dozen were sitting at a wooden table, enjoying their meal and laughing together.
    Everything looked peaceful in the camp, until one of the lookouts in the tower started screaming at the top of his voice.
    “To arms! They’re here! The Britons are here!”
    “About time!” said Tony.
    In an instant, the entire camp sprang to life. Every warrior jumped to his feet and ran to his post, a weapon in his hand and a shield on his forearm. One of the Saxons, who was taller than the others, barked orders in every direction and hurriedly positioned the warriors. A few moments later, Samuel heard a distant tremor, along with the clamor of the Britons who were launching the assault.
    “Time to do our part,” said Thomas, standing up.
    “Not yet,” said Tony. “Give them a minute to create a proper diversion and engage the enemy.”
    “I’m sick of waiting! I need some action.”
    Without waiting for Samuel to call him back, the blond boy jumped to his feet and took a few steps toward the Saxons’ camp.
    “I’m going,” he said. “You can all stay hidden like cowards if you like, but I’m going to get the wizard.”
    Samuel watched Thomas rapidly cover the distance that separated him from the dormitory, hunched over to avoid detection. He flattened his body against the back wall. Samuel shook his head and took a deep breath to calm himself. Then he got up as well and joined Thomas behind the building, closely followed by Tony. After taking back the lead of the group, he slowly crept to the corner and carefully moved his head forward to check the position of the Saxon warriors.
    At the front of the camp, the battle was well under way. Briton and Saxon warriors were locked in awkward skirmishes. In a matter of seconds, what little order the leaders of each faction had tried to establish had gave way to the chaos of war and the battle was turning into carnage on both sides.
    At the speed with which men were dropping in the camp, Samuel and his companions would have to be quick if they did not want the battle to be over before they could rescue their friends in the tower. Tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword, Samuel turned the corner and hugged the short wall of the dormitory, before pausing again at the next corner. With one more step, they would be fully visible to anyone looking in their direction and nothing else could hide them until they reached the tower.
    “Don’t let them get to the tower!” yelled the one who seemed to be the Saxons’ leader. “They’re here for the wizard! If they get him back, everything will be lost!”
    Samuel took one last look to be sure the way was clear, and then made his way toward his objective. In order to limit the chances of anyone spotting him, he refrained from running and opted to walk rapidly instead. As he approached the tower, he raised his eyes and saw the archers on top of it raining arrows on their assailants. Luckily, not one of them was looking in his direction.
    The way seemed clear for Samuel and his companions. They might actually make it to the tower without having to parry a single blow. A few more steps and they would be hidden from the eyes of the Saxons.
    “We’re almost there,” said Tony, who was following Samuel like a shadow.
    At that moment, a group of Saxons came out of the dormitory behind them and immediately spotted Samuel and his companions. Without thinking twice, Thomas and Tony ran toward them, shouting wildly with their swords above their heads. Samuel’s first thought was to join them to lend a hand, but their mission was more important. They had to rescue the wizard if they had any hope of winning this war. After hesitating for a few seconds, he bolted toward the tower.
    Samuel’s heart was pummeling his ribcage and the sweat on his palms made the hilt of his weapon slippery, while his whole vision was restricted to the entrance of the tower. All it would take was one look in his direction to spoil their plan.
    A few more steps and he would be inside, shielded from the enemy’s