Summer, 1326

The Fourth Brigade gazed over upon the Southern Ranges, having marched an astonishing thirty miles a day from the Doldrums. Martin had pulled every trick in the book to achieve this, having sent messengers ordering Stanton to provide supplies which were established in caches all along the road back to town and up the route to the dragon’s cave. Outsiders and scouts had long since detected the location of the fugitive wyrm and its human thrall, helped greatly by the creature returning to its cave and attacking the garrison there. Within ten days the Royals had again tracked down their quarry, now fleeing deep into the mountains.

“The dragon is only eight miles away, still taking the Old North Road.” Sergeant Towser assembled the reports provided by the scouts. “As far as we can tell, the wyrm was injured enough from its captivity that it remains unable to fly. That greatly improves our ability to recapture it.”

“A pity we didn't clip its wings after we caught it.” Martin muttered.

“A lesson learned.” Sergeant Towser unfurled a map sketched out by the Scouts. “Now our quarry is approaching Sweetwater Creek, which is located in a relatively steep gorge and runs fast.”

“We can trap them.” Martin finished as he mulled over the terrain, before pointing at several spots. “Send four regiments off trail here, here, here and here, and await my signal. We want our scent to be carried away by the waters. You and I will take the First Regiment up the road and drive the wyrm against the cliffs. Bring that test weapon from Jiangshan.”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.” Martin rolled up the parchment. “The game is afoot again.”

***

It was a sunny afternoon and Sweetwater Creek was rippling soothing music as human and dragon casually worked their way down the steep gorge continuing their trek North.

Suddenly, a sharp crack of thunder erupted beside them.

“What the hell was that?” Logan looked around.

Mera’s eyes slit like a snake: “Trouble.”

A second report caused the rocks above them to explode in a massive shower of debris. At the same time, figures in familiar great helms and mail appeared atop the cliff face.

“The Royals are here! Run!” Logan exclaimed.

Without further comment Mera quickly scooped the hunter onto his back and took off like a deer along the narrow trail along the gorge.

“How did they catch up to us so quickly?” The hunter asked aloud.

Another sharp crack echoed across the narrow canyon, and several branches above the fleeing pair were neatly clipped like a shear was run through them.

“Frankly I am sick of what that guy manages to pull out of his ass.” The dragon finally grumbled.

High on the cliff, Sergeant Tower coolly placed the ball and wadding into the barrel of his hand cannon, strung the fuse, aimed it at Logan’s head, and lit the powder, sending another shot whizzing above the hunter.

“Not a very accurate weapon.” The officer snorted as Martin's forces rushed all around him to attack their quarry.

Soon hundreds of Royal troops joined the attack, lining the canyon rim and firing more traditional bows and crossbows down at Mera while footmen began working their way down the steep slopes.

Arrows and bolts whistled through the landscape, clipping branches, bouncing off rocks, and embedding into the ground uncomfortably close to the fleeing wyrm.

Mera ran faster.

Logan hugged the dragon's neck as projectiles sang all around him. “They don’t seem to be trying very hard to kill you.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“They want to exhaust you.” The hunter explained.

“What?”

“They know you’re wounded. They want to trap us at the river before they move in for the kill.”

The dragon went silent, then veered towards the waters. “Then we jump the river.”

Logan grabbed the dragon's neck tightly. “Wait! Too close and they just shoot us from the other side of the canyon. Besides, we need a way to stop their pursuit.”

Mera stopped mid-leap, veering back onto the path to continue fleeing. “How?”

“Keep going! I’m making this up as we go!”

“Hmph.”

For a few minutes the dragon and hunter continued fleeing through the gauntlet of Royal fire. Enemy soldiers were now descending the canyon from three sides in pursuit. Soon the fugitives would be hemmed in.

Then the hunter saw it; a break in the cliffs, a steep but relatively gentle and well packed deer trail leading up from a series of tumbling cascades, hinting at rocks and shallow water below; a ford and a trace.

A path out.

“Here!” Logan cried.

Mera immediately turned, then hesitated before a blackthorn bush that appeared in front of him.

“Dammit-”

“Just jump you stupid lizard!”

Wincing as a few bolts found their mark, Mera took two steps back, then made a running leap over the bush and into the creek. With a splash, the dragon landed in the shallows in the middle of the ford, then slipped slightly, before half floating and half wading in the current, finding that the waters rose up to his chest. Sweetwater Creek flowed faster than expected, but the wyrm was able to withstand the flow.

“To the other side! Come on!” Though grasping tightly to his ride's neck, Logan was also up to his chest in water and barely keeping his grip against the current.

Without further prompting, Mera used all his strength to lunge out of the water, then scramble up the embankment and climb atop the trail on the other side, quickly ascending and leaving the creek between them and approaching Royal troops.

Finally the pair took a break. The dragon breathed heavily, wet and exhausted, with a few arrows and bolts sticking out from his hindquarters, looking very much like a mutt soaked in water. Logan was in a less sorry state, but also soaked and battered.

But they were out of the trap. As Logan pulled out the projectiles embedded within his friend, the two watched with satisfaction as the soldiers congregated at the blackthorn, some shooting harmlessly at extreme range.

“Great.” Mera muttered, wincing as Logan removed the last arrow.

“Now head back towards the road.” The hunter replied.

“What? They'll still attack us!”

“We want a way to keep them from breathing down our necks.”

“Alright.”

***

“We’ve lost them again.” Sergeant Towser reported. The Royal Brigade had reassembled upon the bottom of the canyon, finding no one to fight. A few soldiers attempted to scramble through the gigantic blackthorn and find a way across the creek, but failed.

Martin wasn't even surprised now.

“The wyrm is a canny one, and the hunter seems worse.” He glanced over at the site of the skirmish, then the ford at the Old North Road his troops needed to easily cross. What had presented an opportunity to surprise and catch the dragon had in an instant become an obstruction.

There was nothing to do but continue however.

“Sergeant Tower, take the archers of the regiments and try to pin them along the creek bed. I’ll give you command of the Fourth Regiment as a reserve. Carlson will take the footmen of the Second Regiment and cross the Sweetwater downriver, while I’ll take the First and Fourth Upriver. After crossing, Carlson will-”

“Hey Colonel!” The interruption echoed across the canyon.

The two officers looked up. The hunter was atop his dragon, waving at the two figures on the crest of the rocky ridge. At the same time, the wyrm turned around and with his hind legs gave a nearby outcropping a mighty kick. The stones gave way, cascading into an avalanche that in an instant wiped out the narrow trail that led up the steep mountain slope. For good measure the dragon then blew a fireball towards the two Royals, missing the distant figures by far but setting fire to the grove of trees in the shallows between the two opposing groups. Martin and Towser watched silently as the flames danced across the riverbed, kicking up a thick cloud of smoke and effectively halting any further pursuit.

“You can kiss our ass!” Logan yelled again across the canyon.

Martin stared with slight annoyance as the dragon and hunter finished their ascent and disappeared behind the ridgeline.

“I hate that guy.”

---

Irish Descendants - Come Out Ye' Black And Tans

From  Emiiz!

Original: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/61661289/