would be too late. Armies moved only as fast as their slowest parts. Then gradually a determination and a certainty grew within him. He must act, and he must act now! He pushed himself away from the wall and raced down the stone steps into the citadel, shouting as he went. He rushed to the stables and found Jenny munching a bag of carrots. She hiccupped in surprise as he leaped on her back without saddle or reins.
Grabbing her mane, he tugged her head around, and she trotted obediently toward the gate of the citadel. Then suddenly she caught the terrible sense of urgency that was beating in waves from Oskan, and she let out a great squealing bray that echoed around the walls. Laying back her long ears, she thrust her head forward and galloped down through the town, hee-hawing as she went. Soon they reached the gateway to the city, where the party of white werewolves was preparing to join the battle on the defenses.
“To me! To me! The Queen is in danger!” Oskan bellowed at them as he thundered by, desperately clinging to Jenny’s neck. The Wolffolk instantly fell in behind, easily keeping pace with the wildly galloping mule. Down on the level they hurtled toward the gate in the defenses, the werewolves pulling ahead and bursting through the guard that would have barred their way. Then they were through and out onto the plain. Ahead, Oskan could see the enemy bearing down on the rear of Thirrin’s cavalry, and the alarm was being sounded at last all along the embankments. Olememnon was already leading his infantry out through the gateway, frantically trying to catch up with the mule and the small party of werewolves that were swiftly drawing ahead.
But the Polypontian army was winning the race. Thirrin and Tharaman would soon be cut off. Oskan shouted and screamed in an attempt to warn the cavalry, but even with Jenny and the werewolves joining in, their voices were lost.
On they galloped, heading for the rapidly closing area of open plain between the advancing Imperial troops and the defenses. Soon Oskan and the werewolves were fighting their way through enemy soldiers. Jenny lashed out like a trained warhorse and the Wolffolk struck and beat at the soldiers. Such was their ferocity that they hardly slowed, and still they howled and screamed.
At last, Tharaman seemed to realize the danger and, looking back, he let out a huge roar. The cavalry turned around and reformed. Thirrin circled her sword above her head and they charged back toward Oskan and his party, but it was too late. The enemy soldiers closed the escape route, and Jenny and the werewolves broke through only to join the cavalry in certain death.
“No!” screamed Oskan in total and utter despair, then all went black as he was knocked to the ground. He came to seconds later. Jenny stood over him, kicking out with her powerful back legs and sending enemy soldiers flying through the air. Grinelda, the huge captain of the white werewolves, stooped down, and carrying him in her arms she ran to clearer ground, her warriors around her. She set Oskan down, and he watched as the enemy bore down on them. In the background, the thunder of cavalry hooves drew closer as Thirrin and Tharaman galloped toward them. But it was too late; the Imperial troops had surrounded them.
Oskan wept in despair, his frame racked with sobs as he realized they were finished. But then, oddly, two voices sounded in his head, a conversation from his and Thirrin’s past.
“Can you draw down lightning?”
“I’ve never tried. Seems a silly idea to me. You could be hit.”
Could he draw down lightning? Would it be enough? Wenlock Witchmother had said he was the most powerful warlock in generations. Now was the time to find out. He opened his arms wide and threw back his head, staring deep into the clear blue sky. He called on all his strength and forced his mind far and wide questing for power. He ranged over the realms of the four winds, and slowly ions began to gather and accumulate in the air high, high above him. The sky seemed to thicken and roll like muscled water, and then the power started to fall through the sky, crackling and snapping as it tumbled toward the small figure of the boy who stood on the plain, thousands of feet below. It hit him with shocking force, but his thin frame withstood