Under the Shadow of the Eagle

Part Ten

—Aim for its heart!! —the druid commanded, raising her scythe as her apprentices charged the eagle—. Overcome now for all the fights that were and will be!! —the war cries sounded almost as loud as the screech of the huge bird—. Burn its wings!! —all of them attacked in unison: the warrior, the vengeance, the lost one, the apprentice and the slave, together with the animals that had joined their flock, two gigantic crows, a huge wolf, and a beast with feathers and horns—. Bite its neck!! Make it bleed!! Let this not be a stalemate!! Let this be a victory!! —then she charged as well.

Riding on monsters, the cuts that the vengeance, the lost one, the apprentice and the mistress threw were brutal. The shields were held high, the blades were sharp, the eagle was above them.

With its first flutter, the sound of chains was heard. As it swooped down, its screech was like a rain of javelins. The fluttering that it gave a few feet from the ground expanded its feathers, forming a circle around the flock, golden and tall like the walls of a coliseum.

—Remember the most important thing!! —the druid roared, trying to advance against the enemy although she felt countless chains trapping her.

The vengeance had broken the links that reached her, but the beast she rode had not. The blows from her falcata were not enough to free the monstrous bird, and while still insisting, she looked up.

She saw the iron wrapping the lost one, emphasizing the spots where her scars were still visible, covering her mouth and squeezing her neck.

With a battle cry that the gods would remember, the vengeance leapt from her animal, hurling herself at the desperate woman. She did not wield her falcata as a sword or machete against the chains, but used its guard, besides her shield, to hit the metal with fierce punches. She felt the defenses of the weapon and the materials of the shield bending and twisting, digging and splintering into her hands, but she saw the lost one freeing herself from the chains that besieged her.

—Being free!! —roared the taller one of the two women, clenching her still bleeding fists, though she could already see her partner free.

—... Always! —the lost one tried to shout, taking a battle stance, still clinging to her bardiche.

—Always!! —the warrior howled, feeling the skin on his forehead torn by the chains that wrapped him, as well as the broken links falling from his arms.

His sword and shield had managed to free themselves, but not his body or head. He tried to turn around, with the metal breaking the skin of his neck every millimeter, in order to see the druid.

She remained firm, already with shackles tightening only at her wrists and ankles, still fighting. Her strength was such that the chains could not even surround her again. Her limbs were tied, but she kept moving and advancing, with fierce cuts from her scythe. Her body bled from countless spots, but her weapon kept splitting the chains, and her feet kept going forward.

For a moment, the warrior felt that he was not himself, but his land. The cuts of his sword were filled with the strength of his ancestors, the blows of his shield became the wrath of so many defeated warriors, and his war cries were the voice of the conquered.

As he turned around, already liberated from the chains, a few feet removed from the eagle, he saw the druid. She was just a few feet behind him, with her chains about to snap, shackles still tight around her wrists and ankles, and her scythe moving quickly and brutally. For a second, when she saw the warrior, their black eyes met, and the woman, for just a blink, smiled at him.

—Being free... always... remember that... Please, remember that... —the apprentice told the slave, forcing her arms and hands to hold on to the chains that surrounded the man. She felt the blood running down her limbs, but more clearly she felt the despair of her companion, his rapid breathing and irregular heartbeat, from the other side of the metal.