"Trianus! Stream up ahead, get to it!" a voice yelled from the head of the caravan: the colonel. Grasping the reigns on his horse more tightly, Trianus brushed his spurs into the stallion's sides and shot off like a flash, moving to the right of the dirt road and the caravan. The horse's gallop brought clouds of dust up, choking the knight. He put on his helm, baring the heat and hoping that it would clear his throat of the constant dust flying throughout the air - but to no avail. Breathing became a task in it self, but still he trudged onward.

He soon came to the head of the caravan, and looked back: fifty knights in full armor, and twenty squires, horsemen, and wagons carrying up the supplies. It had been two days since the beginning of the trek, and the Blue Mountains with North Keep, their destination, should soon be seen on the blue horizon later in the day.

Passing the colonel, his great two handed sword flashing in the hot sun as it lay, strapped to the knight's back. Trianus came to the stream ahead, and jumped from his horse, landing knee deep in the cool water. It splashed up over his silver armor, relieving him greatly of the heat that was baring down on him. He quickly began to fill the water sack that he was carrying, jumped back on the horse, and delivered the water to the colonel.

One more day and they would be at North Keep.

From there to the front line, and the war...

Memories of his first battle flashed back into his mind as he sat, waiting for the colonel to finish quenching his thirst. The blood had covered his entire form, as he chopped away rhythmically at the enemies flowing ranks...severing their limbs and brining more drenching blood down on him.

"I'm done, knight." the colonel said, tossing back the sack. "Ride with me."

With the colonel?

"Yes, I said ride with me. Stop looking so amazed and pick up the pace," the colonel said, irritated. He stroked his long moustaches falling from his upper lip - the sign of a true Solamnic Knight. Trianus moved his hand to his own moustache, small, but thick. It would grow out soon enough. Maneuvering his horse kindly, he matched the colonel's pace as they crossed the stream.

"I've seen you in battle, Trianus," the colonel said, his gray eyes sparkling in the sun, "and I would have to say that I'm impressed. Once we get to the Keep, I'm placing you in charge of a platoon of Calvary...you'll do well. I knew your father, he was also a great knight of his day..." the colonel suddenly stopped, his reigns fell from his hands as he stared out into the distant horizon, his eyes glazed over...

"Dragons." he said in a barely audible whisper. "Twelve of them...and riders. There coming this way." he stopped, counting the numbers that Trianus could not see for the blare of the sun. All that he could see was storm clouds gathering on the distant horizon...

Storm clouds.

Dragons.

"What in the name of the Abyss," the colonel began, but stopped, his throat choked up. "The Keep has fallen."

Suddenly, an entire regiment, maybe two, of the dragon armies appeared not two hundred yards away.

The trap was sprung.

Sapphire dragons, their cries rising to the sun came swooping from the sky. The caravan was outnumbered ten, maybe fifteen to one. Trianus' heart was caught in his throat as he realized what the consequences were. His silver helm flashed in the sun as he placed in over his head, the red feather of his Calvary burning bright in the glimmering heat. "Charge!" trumpets blared, the knight's cried and galloped forward. No dragons had been assigned to the caravan. They weren't supposed to have been in battle this early; the Keep was supposed to still be there, they were to receive their mounts there, but the Keep had fallen.

And death loomed near.

Trianus cut down the first draconian, his sword splicing the demon's right wing off. He chopped, right left, thrust perry. Four more dragon men fell, but the numbers were overwhelming. He was quickly thrown from his mount, and lay sprawled on the wasteland, draconians swarming over him. He razed his hand axe, and swung upward, taking the jaw off of a draconian. Blood splashed over him as the draconian melted into a pool of acid.

Trianus stood, battle rage burning in his eyes.

Another draconian fell, his head cleaved in two. Trianus looked up from the bloody scene to see the colonel, his back exposed, fall prey to a spear...hope was lost. The knowledge of his own demise swept over him, and Trianus flung himself at the enemy, not caring whether he followed correct procedures or not. Seven fell from his tremendous blows, his silver armor glistened crimson.

A blade flashed in the sunlight, came crashing down on his exposed neck, his helm now flung from his body. Blood spilled down his back - his own blood. He suddenly got very cold, and it anerved him, here being in the bright summer light that he should be freezing! Falling to his knees, the cries of his comrades came, calling his name...and darkness enveloped him.

This story is owned by Marc Dotson.   It may not be used without his permission.