Bleda rode after Riv. He’d heard her scream, seen her dive into the fray, but he lost sight of her as a handful of acolytes threw themselves at him, grabbing at Dilis’ bridle, trying to rip him from her back. He put an arrow into one at almost point-blank range, hurling the man to the ground. The other acolytes fell in a heartbeat or two, more arrows thumping into them, and then Ruga and Yul were riding alongside him.
“Where is she?” Bleda called to them, standing in his saddle as he searched for Riv. All was battle and blood, White-Wings and acolytes fighting, Kadoshim sweeping and screeching, stabbing. The ground trembled as draigs lumbered from the town.
Then he saw her.
A space had cleared thirty or forty paces to his right, White-Wings dead or battered to the ground. Asroth stood there, his dark wings furled behind him, stumbling as Riv slammed into him.
They twisted and turned for a few moments, Riv seemingly trying to gouge Asroth’s eyes out with her thumbs.
“Clear my way,” he called to Ruga and Yul, then spurred his mount on. In front of him acolyte warriors spun away, pierced with Ruga or Yul’s arrows. They shot a path in front of him, filled with the dead, and then Asroth and Riv were clear before him. His heart lurched into his chest. Riv was hanging limp in Asroth’s grip, he had one hand clasped around her throat, a black gauntleted fist pulled back for a blow that would surely crush her skull.
The space between them disappeared as Dilis galloped towards Asroth. At the last moment Bleda pulled on his reins, leaning back in the saddle, a lifetime of learned commands passing through the touch of his knees and feet. Turf sprayed as Dilis skidded out of her gallop, then reared up, hooves lashing out, crunching into Asroth, hurling him through the air. Riv fell from his grip.
Dilis’ hooves slammed to the ground and Bleda was leaning low, one hand on the saddle pommel, the other grabbing Riv’s arm and hauling her up from the ground, laying her limp form across the saddle in front of him. He spurred Dilis on again, a tight turn and he was speeding back the way he had come, Ruga and Yul skewering any who came close to him. Then the three of them were galloping away, towards the makeshift bridge across the blue fire.
Ukran, Alcyon and Raina were there, guarding the bridge, allowing more White-Wings to cross. They called out to Bleda, urging him on. In a dozen heartbeats Bleda was clattering across the bridge and then he was riding hard along the road, Raina and Ukran running alongside him, Alcyon upon Hammer’s back. His Sirak formed around him and they swept along the road and plain, the sinking sun sending their shadows stretching long behind them. In a hundred heartbeats they were disappearing into the gloom of Sarva’s trees.