Page 108 of An Archer's Redemption

Dittler, enraged, snapped at the horse’s neck, gripping a mouthful of its mane in his mighty teeth. He yanked backward, twisting the smaller animal’s head around. The gray pulled himself free and, in the same motion, turned his hindquarters toward Dittler, landing a painful blow with both of his rear hooves straight into Dittler’s side. The Cretian snorted in pain, stumbling sideways a pace, then he charged forward again, teeth bared. The two reared on hindquarters and exchanged vicious blows on the other’s neck and head.

In battles for dominance, such fights were common.

To an outsider, it would appear the challengers were trying to kill one another, but this wasn’t usually the case. Horses generally fought until one submitted, then the order of supremacy in the herd was restored or remade.

But the gray horse wasn’t trying to dominate.

He wanted tokill.

And though he fought Dittler, his eyes kept returning to me.

Keelan darted out of the way of the dueling beasts and helped me to my feet. I threw off my heels and turned to run for help. The gray broke free of Dittler and charged again, this time slamming into Keelan, knocking him several paces away and onto his back.

My protector out of the way, the gray locked eyes with me and reared.

His enraged whinny tore through the night, and sharp hooves glared down at me, their helpless target.

As its hooves were inches from crashing into my face, Dittler charged and rammed his entire weight into my attacker’s side.

The gray, still on just his hind legs, was knocked off balance and flew into the side wall of the stone stables. His head smacked into the hard surface, and blood oozed from a massive gash the impact had created. The horse’s eyes lost focus, and he struggled to rise on wobbly legs, but Dittler was there before he could stand, battering him with forehooves and biting into his throat and withers.

Keelan shook off the last blow he’d taken.

He darted into the stables, returning with a manure fork he found hanging on the wall. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

He raced back to where Dittler continued to stamp the wounded gray.

The gray continued to bite and struggle.

In one lucky thrust, it managed to rake Dittler with a hoof, scoring a bloody line across the stallion’s chest.

Dittler staggered back a few paces, leaving an opening for the gray to try to rise.

Keelan was there before he could stand.

He raged and roared like a man driven by the lust of battle, stabbing the fork into the gray’s head and side again and again until the horse lay motionless on the bloody stones.

Keelan’s chest heaved.

Dittler wheezed and panted as sweat foamed over his sides.

His eyes were frenzied, so Keelan staggered away slowly, giving him space to calm.

I ran to Keelan and threw my arms around him.

He winced as I gripped his likely broken ribs but still pulled me into him. A moment later, silver-plated guards poured out of the Palace.

“The Queen! To the Queen!” they yelled.

Before Keelan could speak, we were safely surrounded by a protective ring of iron.

“I am all right,” I said in a small voice as I pulled away from the safety of Keelan’s embrace.

A man with a bright-green plume on his shiny helm stepped into the circle. He bowed curtly. “Your Majesty, are you hurt? What happened?”

I drew in a few breaths, then looked up at the man. “I am fine. Keelan may need a Healer, and Dittler definitely will, but I am unharmed. That horse came out of nowhere and . . . I do not know . . .attackedme. It all sounds insane now, but that is what happened.”

The guard’s brows knitted in confusion as he looked from me to where the gray horse lay, then back to me. “A horse attacked you, Majesty?”

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