Lyra joined him and examined how the log sat on the rim. “Perhaps we will not be able to drop it into the canyon,” she agreed.
“We have to,” frowned Antello. “The raiders can move quicker than we can. All they have to do is follow our trail and we have to stop to figure out which way to run. This is our chance to stop them.”
“What does it look like?” Syman asked as he led the last horse off the bridge. “Are we going to be able to move it?”
“I may be able to burn it,” offered Lyra, “but fargi trees do not burn easily. They have been noted for surviving forest fires with only their bark blackened. If I knew how to cast a fireball we might stand a chance of penetrating the thick bark, but my fire starting spell is no stronger than a torch light.”
“Maybe we should use our time wisely and get moving,” suggested Syman. “If we can’t stop them from following us across, then we cannot afford to stay here talking about it.”
“But this is our chance to buy time,” argued Antello before his mouth stopped moving and gaped open.
Syman followed Antello’s gaze and saw the invaders charging along the opposite side of the canyon. “Get your bows quickly,” he shouted.
Syman ran and swiftly untied the horses and led them farther into the woods. There was a chance that the invaders had not noticed them and had instead focused on following the trail. Shouts from across the ravine dissipated his hopes and he tied the horses to a tree.
“Don’t shoot until they are half way across,” Lyra instructed. “I will see if I can get the log burning. Even if it doesn’t burn, it may make them think twice about crossing.”
“We can hold them off here until they are all dead,” Antello grinned. “This is even better than shoving the bridge into the ravine.”
Syman shook his head as he took up position behind a tree. Lyra scrambled to the end of the log and Syman saw tiny flames shoot from her fingertips into the wood. Doing a quick head count of the opposition, Syman frowned at the results. There were at least forty of the invaders visible and the line stretched into the forest.
Tiny wisps of smoke rose from the log where Lyra worked. The invaders sat astride their horses and looked over at the trio as if deciding on the best plan of attack. Nobody attempted to cross the bridge.
“What are they waiting for?” exclaimed Antello from behind his tree. “Maybe we should start shooting at them now.”
“These are not untrained students playing a game,” explained Syman. “They know we are waiting to cut them down and they have no real reason to cross the bridge.”
“What do you mean?” quizzed Antello. “If they don’t cross the bridge, they cannot get to us.”
“They do not need to get to us if we are not going anywhere,” Syman sighed. “There are plenty of them. I bet that they will send some onward to find another way across while some of them keep us occupied here. Let me know if you see any of them leaving. That will be the time for us to run if Lyra has not managed to start it burning by then.”
The invaders continued to sit and wait. A small group of them gathered around one man, clearly their leader, and talked as casually as if they were sitting around a campfire. One of them must have spotted the tiny wisps of smoke Lyra was making because he shouted something and pointed. The head invader came to life with shouts and pointing and movement rippled through the invaders as if someone had kicked an anthill. Six invaders dismounted and grabbed bows while half of the dark clad riders galloped eastward along the northern rim of the canyon, obviously searching for another way across.
“Darn!” shouted Syman. “We are not going to make it this time. Antello, I want you to get Lyra out of here. I will stop these men from coming across, but you have got to get her moving quickly.”
“Maybe she will get the fire started,” objected Antello. “Besides, if we both shoot at them, she will be safe.”
“Move!” demanded Syman as the first barrage of the invaders’ arrows began raining down upon the end of the bridge.
Lyra looked around nervously as she heard the thuds of the arrows landing. She was shielded from a direct hit by the massive log, but she was also stranded without any way to move and the fire she was trying to start was just not working. Her spell could not generate enough heat to penetrate the fargi tree and get the wood burning. She looked towards Syman and Antello and shook her head. Syman held up his bow and indicated for her to make a run for it when he started shooting and she nodded.
Syman was not the best archery student in Master Caulder’s class, but he was a good shot and had a strong pull. He had his arrows laid out before him for quick access before he started shooting. He did not aim for anyone in particular but proceeded to fling arrows quickly into the ranks of the enemy bowmen. All he needed to do right now was give Lyra a chance to run into the woods so she could get free with Antello.
Antello had two horses ready and stood on the reins while he joined Syman’s attack with arrows of his own. The combined attack scattered the enemy archers long enough for Lyra to dash into the trees.
“Thanks,” Lyra panted. “I’m afraid the fire idea will not work.”
“I gathered as much,” Syman said. “Go with Antello quickly. Move fast because another group of invaders is looking for a way across the canyon.”
Lyra looked at Antello and the reins for the two horses he now held. Slowly, realization of what Syman was doing registered. “No,” she declared. “I am not leaving you to die in my place. We shall all leave together.”
“There is no time for this,” growled Syman. “I can hold these men here while you two get a head start, but I can do nothing about the other group. Any more delay and you will be throwing away not only your own life, but Antello’s as well. When I have held them here for a while to give you a head start, I will run and catch up to you. It is not me they are after and given a choice, they will go after you.”
Lyra knew they would go after everyone. They surely had enough men to spare. But as she started to argue, Antello grabbed her and shoved the reins of her horse into her hand.
“There are times when we must trust each other,” Antello stated. “This is one of them. Get on your horse and let’s ride. The sooner we leave the sooner Syman can leave and if he doesn’t join us by nightfall, I will beat the sense out of him when he does catch up to us.”
Lyra laid her hand softly on Syman’s shoulder, but he ignored her as he reached for another arrow. Lyra turned with tears in her eyes and mounted her horse. Antello was already mounted and together they turned and galloped into the forest.
There was a narrow trail leading away from the log bridge and Antello led the way along it as they galloped deeper into the dark forest. The shouts of the invaders and the song of Syman’s bowstring faded quickly into the distance and were replaced by the sound of the relentless pounding of their horses’ hooves as they charged away from the ravine. Tears poured down Lyra’s cheeks and her eyes swelled closed. She wiped them constantly and was still barely able to follow Antello.
Lyra’s mind began to drift as she wished that she would wake up from this horrendous nightmare. Her mother. Her father. Master Caulder. All of her friends and fellow students. Now Syman. Why? When would it all stop? Why was this happening to her?
Her thoughts reeled and mental pictures of the Academy, both before the attack and after, flooded through her mind. She saw her father lecturing and smiled at him. She saw Rhodella standing with her hands on her hips, scolding Lyra about playing with swords, and smiled. She saw Syman lying on the grass behind the Academy with his hands up begging for mercy from her, and smiled.
“Lyra!” screamed Antello. “Get yourself together. We have to keep riding.”
Lyra opened her swollen eyes and looked about. Her horse was standing peacefully, well off the trail, and Antello was next to her. She must have let the horse go where it wanted to. Antello was frantic and Lyra silently scolded herself.