The Prophecy

The Stormy Road (5)

The brigands' heavy dragons moved away and each one targeted a prisoner to hunt. In spite of the handicap of their weight, which usually would make any precise maneuver delicate, they were equipped with powerful wings which allowed them gain on speed what they lacked in accuracy and sharp turns. That was a remarkable advantage in the game of cat and mouses. That would have helped the brigands to quickly get their hands on the wise elves men if the latter, rapidly realizing their inferiority in the race, had not started to twirl around like butterflies. They zigzagged in all directions, making the brigands' task more and more difficult and the collisions less and less predictable - and avoidable - as they moved away. The Wise Elves men had one and only one goal: join the clouds rising from the valley just below.

The Stallion was the last one to reach them. A gigantic shadow fell on him before he entered the saving mist. He spurred his horse to go faster, faster, faster. One lunia and he was saved. One... A shock violently pressed him against the silver neck of his mount; the brigand had jumped from his dragon to land on the fugitive! ...and he was now behind him! The winged horse, feeling this unworthy being on him, did not wait to show his anger: he sneered and struggled like a devil out of his box, missing to put his legitimate rider down. But the robber was a rough rider, he clutched the Stallion tightly, thinking that if he fell, he would not fall alone... With a hoarse voice, he scolded, between two jolts:

_If you don't stop that damned beast, we're both going to down.

Then, something happened that the brigand hadn't foreseen: The Stallion got up; forcing him to do the same so as not to let go, and the elf bent down dangerously, finally understanding the danger, his winged horse calmed down little by little and swallowed his anger and pride. The Stallion took his momentum and was about to rush into the void.

_You're crazy! shouted the brigand, who could clearly see that the "wise man" intended to jump. You're going to kill us both!

_Few seconds ago, you weren't that sheepish! When I thought You didn't want to die alone... That's alright by me: let's die... together!

The brigand, distraught by the determination of this strange elf, nevertheless managed to wrap his boot in a leather strap that protruded from the saddle. It would be the only element that would connect him to life if the Elf would act, or rather as he seemed determined to do act... And he did! The Stallion jumped into the void, dragging along the brigand who was still holding the elf by the torso. Thanks to the brigand's ingenious idea, they were now floating in the sky, tossed by the winds, held only by the thin leather strap.

_I'm slipping! shouted the brigand desperately, hoping his colleagues would hear him. Help! Help!

_You only have to let me go and you're safe! said The Stallion with a light joyful song in his voice.

_Never! Better to die than to face the great chief!

_Then, farewell!

_The Stallion! That's enough! said a powerful and fiery voice.

Out of the mist emerged an imposing form. The Great Pope, standing on Elsius, was heading straight for the Stallion. Other forms followed him; all the wise elves men were behind, following their leader. Flavian, the first escapee, approached the Stallion and, with Abela, helped him and the brigand to get back on his horse.

_That's wise, Grand Pope, I'm glad to see that you've got your point across! said the chief.

The brigands took their place around the wise men, guarding them even more closely than before. The Stallion, who was at the side of the Great Pope, could not help murmuring: