“Why risk more death in a fatal attempt?” Nona interrupted, spitting her words. “It’s useless to—”
“Enough,” Simus commanded.
Silence fell, and no one met his gaze.
“Go back to your warriors,” Simus said. “Tell them to gather what gear and supplies they can and head out away from the Heart, to regroup. Tell them to warn the theas, protect the herds, and watch the skies at all times.” Simus took a breath, awaiting protest.
None came.
“Those that are willing to aid us are welcome,” Simus continued. “Return here, with ten of your best warriors, ones willing to take a risk. The winds favor the bold,” he concluded.
The wind rustled the grass around them.
“Agreed,” Mirro said. “My Warlord may be within and alive. I will return.”
“I don’t know,” Nona said, as the others around her looked uncertain.
“We will proceed,” Simus said. “With or without you.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Simus was alone on the edge of the rise, lying flat, watching and waiting to issue commands.
Almost all of the warriors had returned, bringing others with them, with saddled horses and lances to spare. They were back behind him, hidden by the rises, waiting for his command. They’d organized quickly, once Simus had explained it in terms of an ehat hunt, putting on helmets and strapping shields to their backs for protection against the stings.
Simus drew a breath, taking a moment to appreciate the afternoon sun on his face, the blue of the skies above. One could plan and plan and plan, but it might all come to naught. “Aid us, elements,” he whispered in a final prayer.
All was ready.
Simus rose to his knees, the better to see. It was a risk that he might draw the wyverns’ attention, but he needed to be seen by his people. The risk was small, given the distraction he was about to unleash.
He raised both fists in the air, and dropped them down.
Behind him, two groups of horses began to run, charging past him and down the slope toward the Heart. As they galloped past, they called out battle cries and sounded horns. Their charge was swift, and they split as they reached the Heart, each taking a side, riding straight for the wyverns.
The wyverns noticed.
The monsters raised their ugly heads with their long, curling horns, focusing on the warriors and horses. Some started to turn, hissing, spreading their wings—
Simus’s breath caught, but his warriors never faltered. Both groups charged close to the lake and then as soon as they had the monsters’ attention—
—they each turned in the opposite direction, running along the lakeshore, rousing every wyvern that could be seen.
The wyverns launched, but the turn had caught them by surprise, and a few tumbled into one another, hissing and biting each other. But more than enough took to the air, following the riders.
“Move in,” Simus bellowed, and resisted the urge to stand in order to see better.
Warriors rose from the grasses around the ruined tent, Snowfall in their midst. It had taken time for them to position themselves, but it had been time well spent under her protection. They darted under the debris as others attached ropes to the edges of the collapsed tent.
Simus watched for the wyverns. But the beasts were all up, pursuing the riders. As they moved along the shoreline, more beasts rose into the air, adding to the congestion.
Simus held his breath as the first of the wyverns closed, but the musk teams darted away from the lake as planned, turning away from the water, still calling, still taunting the creatures. Some had strips of cloth in their hands, letting them flutter out behind them.
The wyverns screeched, and followed. The area was clear.
Simus raised his hand, drew a circle in the air, and then dropped it.
More warriors charged in on horseback, some with spare horses. They swooped in to grab those climbing out from under the tent debris.
