CHAPTER SIX
Richard and Bullant sat on their horses and watched the Rourazar approach through the small valley below. The forest had slowed it down. It might set the trees on fire, but they still stood. Even a creature of its size found it hard to push through them. Still it was getting closer with each passing minute.
Bullant turned to consider Richard. "Then we're agreed on the plan?"
"There's a lot that could go wrong."
Bullant sighed and nodded. "It's not a good plan. I'm honestly a bit surprised you went for it. You're either the bravest man I've ever met, or the most foolish."
"Is that supposed to be encouraging?"
Bullant laughed. "I suppose not. How long do you plan to wait?"
"As long as I can. For your plan to work I'll need to let it get as close to me as possible."
"If your timing is off, you'll die."
Richard snorted. "If your timing is off I'll die."
"I'll be ready when the moment comes."
"I can't believe I'm putting my life in the hands of D'Haran."
"I can't believe I'm doing this." Bullant drew the Sword of Truth from his scabbard and flipped it around, presenting it hilt first to Richard. "Your sword, Seeker."
Richard took the blade and slid it into his own scabbard. It felt good to have it at his side again. "You should go. There's nothing else for you to do now but ready your men."
Bullant grabbed the reins of his horse and turned it about, then drew back and halted it, staring Richard in the eye. "I'm putting a lot of faith in you Seeker. Be the man the people say you are, not the enemy Rahl makes you out to be."
Richard nodded, knowing that the decisions Bullant had made today were hard to make, and sensing the importance the man put in those words. But he said nothing, only turning his eyes back to the Rourazar as it continued to move closer. Bullant watched him for a moment, then spurred his horse and rode off into the darkness.
***
The stallion leapt over the crest of the hill and Richard saw the dam. It was clear shot across the long dry river bed, with the Rourazar only a thousand paces back. The raging flames that consumed the forest behind him cast long shadows before him.
He leapt up in the saddle, balancing precariously on the horse's back, crouching down to lower his center of gravity. A slip at this speed and the fall would be fatal, no matter how short.
The Rourazar crested the hill behind him, launching itself and crashing down in the riverbed, instantly halving the distance between Richard and the beast. Sweat poured down his face; he could feel the creature's heat on his back.
The creature moved faster over the smooth expanse of the riverbed, slithering like a snake and gaining the full advantage of its superior size. Richard's timing would have to be perfect – assuming Bullant could be trusted to do his part. If Bullant failed him, then his timing wouldn't matter. As the massive stone wall of the dam rose up before him he cleared his mind of all distractions and worries.
With his mind clear he focused his attention on the stallion he rode. He let himself feel the horse through his feet, reaching past the rhythm of its gallop to find the deeper rhythms of its breath. With each beat of its hoof against the ground it inhaled, with each bound it exhaled. Richard breathed in time with the horse.
He reached out and gently placed a hand on its neck, feeling the blood coursing through its veins, the pounding of its heart. The horse saw the wall, knew it was coming. No matter how fine its training its resolve would break and it would turn. Richard needed to be ready.
He scanned the dam, looking for his target. Dangling at the midpoint of the stone wall was a heavy rope. Bullant had come through with that at least. He looked up the wall and where the rope crossed over the dam he thought he could see a second horse, and a third. For a moment he allowed himself hope, then banished the thought. He could think of neither success or failure. To survive he would need to keep himself in the moment.
The stallion's heart raced, its fear growing, its resolve crumbling, and Richard knew he had to leap. The horse turned and Richard flew from the saddle, sailing through the air.
He hit the ground hard and rolled, bashing his head against the ground. He paid it no attention, instantly finding his feet and running. Running faster than he'd ever run before. The Rourazar was so much faster than him, and so close. The distance between Richard and the wall was half that of the distance between himself and the beast. He didn't know if he could make it.
The harder he pushed himself the closer the Rourazar came. He could feel his hair shrivel and burn, the leather of his vest crackling and crumbling. Blisters bubbled and burst on his arms; he screamed with pain but ran on. Ahead of him the rope burst into flames. The Rourazar was on him. It was too late.
Above them Bullant lost sight of Richard in the waves of heat radiating from the fiery behemoth below him. He offered a quick and silent prayer t the Creator and whipped the first horse, surprising its rider. It bolted, running for the far end of the dam. The rope connected to it's saddle ran around a post Bullant's men had set, then down the wall of the dam. Down to the seeker, ready to pull him up. Bullant prayed he'd caught it.
Richard watched the rope slid up the wall and cursed Bullant's timing. He jumped forward, his foot connecting with the wall. Using the wall as a step he leapt up. Not far, but enough to catch the rope before it disappeared for good.
The Rourazar smashed into the wall below. Just as Bullant had planned and Richard had prayed. The stone exploded, releasing a torrent of water that instantly turned to boiling steam, further obscuring the chaos below. The rope was taut and biting into the log that he'd set us a pivot; Bullant prayed it meant the Seeker had survived. He threw a glance down the length of the dam; his man was still riding hard and true, the rope trailing behind him. As the wall rumbled beneath his feet and his horse screamed in terror, Bullant began to consider his own safety. He rushed to his horse and readied himself to leap when the post suddenly lurched forward.
The rope was still on fire, and Richard clung to it through gritted teeth, wrapping the smoldering hemp around his arm and trying to smother it against his body. As the rope ascended Richard bounced against the wall's rough stone bricks, each fresh collision sending new pain through his arms. Below him he heard a sound unlike anything he'd heard before, a piercing wail, a monstrous shriek. The water flowed over the Rourazar, boiling between the plates of its armor and it screamed in pain. Richard smiled through gritted teeth, taking a small measure of pleasure in the beast's agony.
Bullant hesitated, his eyes darting back and forth from the post to the saddle. The post was rattling in the makeshift brace his men had constructed. He realized it didn't have enough support above the pivot point, and would tumble over the edge of the dam any moment. When it did Richard would fall, swinging towards the ground, with nothing to break his fall but the crashing waves that burst forth from the sundered dam. Waves that tossed rocks larger than the Seeker about like children's toys.
A crack formed at his feet, and he new the dam would not hold much longer. The Seeker would need more time. Bullant's horse rearer and scream, bolting off down the length of the dam. So the decision was made. He rush to the post and threw his arms around it, pulling it back. The rope hissed around the post which smoldered beneath him. Bullant realized he would die a hero. He found the thought offered no comfort at all.
Far below him Richard looked downward at the Rourazar. The beast had stopped thrashing and lay still, the lake beyond the dam had been too much water for it boil away. With its heat dissipated it appeared lifeless, but there was only one way to be sure. He let go of the rope and fell.
The rope went slack and Bullant knew the Seeker had let go. He released the post and it tumbled over the edge. He turned to run as the dam beneath him groaned and its cracks grew wider. He knew he would not make it.
Richard landed in the rushing waters below. The current sweeping out from the dam battered him about, slamming him into the inert Rourazar. He grabbed its armored plates and clung tight, slowly pulling himself up its body. Above him heard a thunderous crash, looking up he saw the wall of the dam burst. It was all coming down and Lake Cordacan had seen it's final day. The Cordacan River would flow once more.
Far above Bullant grunted, refusing to scream, as the dam crumbled under his feet. He tumbled, rocks bashing against him, and was certain the raging waters below would do nothing to break his fall.
The wave hit Richard like the kick of ten thousand horses. It took every last ounce of strength he had to cling to the Rourazar's body as the wave lifted it up and sent it sliding across the once dry riverbed. It slammed into the burning forest beyond and broke the first line of trees like so much kindling. But even a wave of such great strength could not uproot and entire forest. Soon it's power was broken, even as the forest drown.
As the rush of water subsided, Richard crawled along the beast's body, seeking it's head. He found purchase on it's back and regained his feet, running down the length of its spine.
Steam poured off the Rourazar's body, the small pools of water trapped in its rough carapace began boiling away. The creature wasn't so dead after all. Richard could feel its fire under his feet, knew the creature was stoking whatever internal furnace gave it its devastating power.
The head lay before him, surrounded by its long black tendrils. They twitched and convulsed as the creature awoke. Richard took aim on the center most of its seven eyes, the largest of them all, and drew the Sword of Truth. He leapt into the air and plunged the sword down.
The creature's eye burst as the sword sliced through it, spraying Richard with fiery blood that scalded his skin. His face, arms, hands and chest burned wherever the creature's blood struck and he screamed. As he screamed it screamed as well, rearing up as it came to sudden, horrific life.
Richard was thrown through the air, the Sword of Truth rent from his hands by the force of the beast's convulsions. He splashed down in the river Cordacan, its chill waters a balm on his burning skin. The Rourazar fared less well, thrashing and screaming in unholy anguish. A final series of convulsions snapped trees in twain and marker its death.
Richard broke the surface of the river and found himself caught up the branches of a towering oak, its strong roots unmoved by the wave or the beast's thrashings. He held on to it gingerly, even inch of him cried out in pain. As he slipped into merciful unconsciousness Bullant's men descended from their position in the hills, dragging Sebastian along with them.