Page 60 of Reign

Tom’s head landed at my feet. Blood spurted from the tendons dangling from his neck, while his eyes were frozen wide.

For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw his mouth move. As I stumbled back, a voice in my head urged me to comfort him in his final moments—but I couldn’t find the courage.

“Goblins!” a knight bellowed, pointing his gleaming gauntlet skyward.

I looked up and, amid the drizzle, caught sight of the talons and iridescent skin of a wyvern. It wasn’t alone; many of the creatures glided through the air as effortlessly as kites on a blustery day.

Perched on their backs were small men with fiery amber eyes and wiry hair, easy to spot by their pointed caps in a bloody shade of crimson. Three or four rode together—one steering the beast while the others launched arrows, slung stones, and catapulted projectiles toward the soldiers below. Each brutal strike was met with raucous cheers from the goblins as they reveled in the carnage.

A swooshing sound whipped past my ear. I turned to see a twanging arrow sticking out of the black sands behind me. My heart thumped as I shifted my gaze to the misty sky, where I spotted a goblin astride a wyvern—his icy stare fixed me as his newest target. The goblin reached back, retrieving an arrow from his quiver and nocking it on his bow. I ducked sharply as he drew the bowstring taut, preparing to send the arrow spinning toward my head. Before he could release it, a lightning bolt struck him with a sharp crack, disintegrating him into nothing but ash. I darted my eyes around nervously, believing I’d be hit next.

On a nearby cliff, I spotted three cloaked strangers standing precariously close to the edge. Only their outstretched hands were visible, from which sparks—shimmering like shooting stars—flew from their purple palms. Fear gripped me. I believed that Regina had sent wizards to fight inland. But as I watched their impressive spellcasting unfold, I realized their attacks were aimed at the goblins and wyverns. The invading beasts tumbled through the fog, splattering on the sands like rotten fruit. A flicker of hope sparked inside my chest; these unknown wizards were on our side.

As I stared in awe at their mastery of magic, something suddenly leapt onto my back. I tumbled to the ground as sharp claws scraped my skin. Rolling over the gritty sands, I struggled to shake the creature off. Its maw was as lethal as a set of daggers, ripping through my flesh. Finally, I flipped over and locked eyes with a furious goblin. He snapped his jaw, trying to take a chunk out of my face. I held him off with all my strength, screaming in agony as grains of sand burrowed into the deep lacerations on my back.

Help! I thought desperately. Someone help me before I die.

A blur of black streaked past my face, snatching the terrifying goblin away. I scrambled to my feet, ready to defend myself, but I’d already been saved. The sight of untamable black fur and glowing amber eyes filled me with an overwhelming sense of relief—a feeling I didn’t think I’d experience again.

“Dog!” I cried out.

There, cracking a goblin’s neck in her locked jaw was the Black Shuck. With a flick of her head, Dog tossed the lifeless creature onto the sands, hacking up his red cap like it tasted foul.

Nearby, a trio of goblins hesitated, their expressions clouded with confusion. It was clear they couldn’t understand why the Black Shuck was defending a man—the sworn enemy of all things magical.

Dog leaped in front of me, her tail wagging ever so slightly, like she was enthralled by the thrill of the fight. She lunged at the nearest goblin, her powerful jaws finding his vulnerable throat. With one swift bite, she executed him before pouncing on the next. As she mauled her second target, the remaining goblin attacked her hind leg, gnawing with feral determination.

Dog yelped in pain, her agonized cries cutting through my fear like a knife. In that instant, I wanted goblin blood.

I unsheathed my sword and screamed as I swung it at the creature. The goblin ducked, tumbling among the sands as he narrowly evaded my clumsy strike. He lay helplessly on the gritty ground, panting in fear as I pressed my sword to his neck.

Dog whimpered.

“Thee’ar hirten?” Are you hurt? I whispered.

She limped on three legs, turning to reveal her thigh, which was shredded beyond repair.

“Giefan thou miltsian.” Give me mercy, the goblin pleaded.

Dog had avenged in my name many times before, and now I wanted to seek retribution for her.

“Niel.” No.

In a frenzied attack, I stabbed the goblin, bludgeoning him with my sword long after he was dead. I was only satiated with my revenge when his mutilation surpassed my furry companion’s. When my rage subsided, I turned to help Dog, but she was gone.

“Dog?” I called out, but my voice was lost amid the cacophony of war.

I stumbled across the battlefield, dodging the living and the dead alike. Men thrust their swords into ogres’ chests, while goblins slashed soldier’s legs with their claws, leaving deadly gashes.

“Damn me!” a familiar voice cried out.

I scanned the macabre scene of the maimed, mangled, and mutilated, searching for the source of the shout. Beneath a red-capped goblin, I spotted a shimmering shell of armor.

“Argh!” Fitzroy bellowed, pounding his metal fists against the creature attacking him.

I darted through the sands, unsheathing my sword and preparing to strike. The goblin, preoccupied with trying to maul Fitzroy’s perfect face, didn’t notice my approach. In one swift motion, I drove my blade through the goblin’s raw-boned back. Blood spewed from his mouth, painting Fitzroy’s complexion a deep scarlet. I withdrew my sword and shifted the mortally wounded goblin aside.

Catching my jittery breath, I glanced at Fitzroy’s armor—it was more dented than a farmer’s favorite bucket. But I cared not for the hours it would take to mend; I was simply relieved that he had emerged unscathed.