We hear the wing beats in the distance and everyone stops. The soldiers turn to their horses to quiet them down. One shoots a glare at our cart to warn us into silence. The glare wasn’t needed. I knew better and from the looks on their faces my other two cart companions know better to. We don’t dare to rattle our chains. The iron cuffs dig into my wrists, but I’ll endure the pain a thousand times over than risk any noise now.
I can’t see it. My back is to the wing beats. It must be somewhere beyond the trees as I see a soldier point. Some of them move toward the underbrush to hide amongst the foliage. The prisoner beside me hisses “hey, what about us?” and the wooden handle of a halbred meets the back of his head as a warning.
You can feel the forest shake from the power behind the wing beats. Loud whoomps and whooshes. A slow and steady rhythm to drive a sane man mad. My heart thunders as I feel them drawing closer. The cart is abandoned aside from us three prisoners. The reins to the horses dangle on the driver’s seat. Whoomp. Whoomp. My breath trembles. My back is locked. All I can do is stare at the plate on the base of the kart where my chains connect. Whoomp. Whoomp.
The prisoner across from me shifts. I see his eyes flirting with the reins. My mouth goes dry. Whoomp. Whoomp. I don’t know whether to deter him or not. If he goes for it, we could escape, but we’d catch the attention of the wing beats. If he doesn’t go for it and beats fade away, we’ll be right back on track for our execution. Whoomp. Whoomp.
I think I’d rather face execution.
It’s the prisoner next to me that stops the other. His hiss was enough of a start to put the other guy back in his seat. We keep our heads down and the guy besides me whispers a prayer. Whoomp. Whoomp.
The roar of the greatest beast to tread the earth sounds over our heads. I gasp a breath I didn’t know know I was holding. My body goes frigid like I’m suddenly made of ice. Whoomp. Whoomp.
Powerful gusts of air blast down upon us. I meet the eyes of the other prisoners. The look of dead pales their skin. Whoomp. Whoomp. I dare to look up.
Black slits in radiant gold eyes stare down at me from a long muzzle of plated scales. The rhythmic beats. The blasts of air bring water to my eyes. Wings as long as oaks are tall. Shimmering scales like jewels of green and blue. A long tail that broke the tops of trees. I would be awed if I wasn’t so terrified. Whoomp. Whoomp.
Through the breaks of the gusts, I hear one of the prisoners bawling. The other shouts loudly in prayer. I keep my eyes fixed on the dragon. The long, silver line of throat remains just that. Will it not burn us? Will it land to destroy us? Whoomp. Whoomp.
It hovers in the sky. It’s moment pause bringing years of agonistic anticipation. Would it take just the horses? Is there any way we’ll survive? I meet the beast’s golden eyes once more in hopes to read its motives.
It’s about time. The voice in my head brings a new level of terror, and somehow, I know it comes from the dragon. I’ve been looking for you.
nikki diekemper 