Hope (Knights of Av'lor - Book 1)

Chapter 46

Lanclor could feel Laktalin's controlled energy beneath him, a slight hesitation in his step. His mount would have loved to begin the charge now, but Lanclor made sure to keep his reins short. They had quite a ways to go and he had no desire to tire him before the battle.

Lanclor remembered when he had first seen Laktalin, throwing Hook to the ground when Hook had tried to mount him for the first time. Laktalin hadn't been broken and refused to let anyone upon his back. Lanclor had taken over Hook's "impossible task" and earned Laktalin's trust. He'd been a loyal mount ever since, not allowing any other knight upon his back.

Lanclor patted his neck, assuring him that they would soon charge into battle together. What a historical battle it would be. They would surely be outnumbered and a victory would be costly, but they had no choice. This was the only option they had to stand a chance against the Daemon horde. The knights couldn't sit in the castle hoping the Daemons would change their minds and go home. The Daemons wouldn't go home until they stripped this world and the next of life.

Lanclor glanced above him through the night, his Night Eyes spell showing him the winged squads above. They flew in perfect unison, circling when needed to avoid passing the ground troops, conserving their strength by gliding.

He felt comforted by their presence, knowing the winged squads would spot any foe unseen by the ground forces. The air was crisp, but far from freezing—the perfect temperature for a long march. It was then that he noticed it.

Not a sound escaped from the squads. The usual sound of quiet singing and the suppressed laughter of a shared joke were missing. The Knight-Commander looked around at his knights, noticing the haunted, yet determined eyes. It reminded him of Lady Kathryn's Last Battle Sight. He felt his thoughts melt away any eagerness for the battle, replacing that eagerness with a foreboding as he again patted the neck of Laktalin.