The Forgotten

Chapter 21

Lynden rode towards the town now appearing in the distance. Having the early start meant that he had nearly got to the city by late afternoon.

Reaching the peak of a nearby hill, he halted and gave his horse a pat on the neck before looking at the sight before him. Coming this way many times before he knew there was a great view, being able to make out the marketplace, training fields, keep and church. The marketplace always held a special place in his heart as all the varying colours that could be seen from the stalls made it so distinct and beautiful compared to the rest of the dull, grey place.

He saw black smoke rising from several places within Tocking vale. Frowning, he saw a large fire in the centre of the city with flames in danger of spreading to other dwellings.

Looking closer at the gates, he made out several figures running in every direction. Following them were three guards riding horses, cutting the townsfolk down as they ran.

Lyden's steed seemed to have seen the murders and destruction itself. Breathing heavily and stomping its forelegs, it was preparing for battle.

Lynden looked down at his companion, a grim smile on his face.

"Ride my friend, whether we die or survive let our enemies tremble in fear of us."

The horse gave out a war cry and charged. They were a little over a mile from the outskirts to where the people were running, he would be there in only a couple of minutes.

Dust sweeps up from the horse's hooves, a cloud of mist left in its trail. Many would cower in the face of a warhorse, and those who stood to meet its charge were often never heard of again.

Halfway there, Lynden drew his sword at his waist, preparing for his first strike. It was then that the first guard saw the charging knight approaching him. One giant warhorse donning silver and brown armour and the knight on top wearing deep brown armour like he had never seen but only read from stories. The guard gulped before readying himself, shouting for his friends to join him. they charged at Lynden.

The large warhorse dwarfed the smaller guards' mounts as they began to buck in fear at the sight before them. Using it to his advantage, Lynden swung outwards from his chest to the first guard's head.

Off-balance, the guard's defensive blow was useless. The swing meeting the cheek of his helm and the blow making the guard fall from the horse, hitting the ground below him with a crack. The two other guards charged Lynden with swords held high. Lynden's horse, knowing what to do, runs in an arch making one guard fall behind him while the other off to his left side.

One of the guards aimed a stab towards Lynden's midriff, the knight parrying the blow, pushing it to the side. As his horse continued to ride past, it then bit into the guard's legs, making them cry in pain. With a counter-attack, Lynden stabs the guard's stomach, penetrating his intestines. A fatal blow.

The guard fell forward on his mount. Lynden, taking no risks, drove his sword up through the lightly-covered area of the guard's armpit. His screams ended as he fell from his horse.

Looking for the final attacker and readying to charge, Lynden saw the last guard running back into the city, yelling "Lynden is here!". He smiled at that remark, as he trotted through the gate in front of him.

Bodies laid everywhere as the mounted knight rode slowly through the street. Most were just commoners, some even children. A few guards were piled beneath broken pots and wood that many seemed to have used as weapons to protect themselves. The streets were otherwise empty of life apart from the passing moans of people in pain.