Juan had never been a fan of pushing horses, but the thunder of hooves behind them spurred him to keep their horses at a gallop. The horsemen of the Steel Falcons, no longer at full strength, were eating up the distance too quickly.

  “I wish I had grabbed a bag of those caltrops,” complained Harper over the cacophony. “They really would have come in handy here!”

  “Focus on what we can do,” replied Juan, just then spotting the ancient bridge in the distance. Just a little closer…

  Jerseil pulled out a stringed instrument and began playing while singing a song of a quick and clever fox running from a pack of dogs. By the time he was done, Juan felt hastened in mind and body.

  “Whoa! What was that?” Finn asked, wide-eyed.

  “Bard magic! Too far away to do anything to our pursuers, but at least I can give us a few buffs,” Jerseil replied before bursting into another song.

  Juan noticed Harper looking at Jerseil with newfound admiration. Her increased interest in the bard worried him, but it wasn’t going to matter if they couldn’t get across the bridge. Jerseil went through several songs, providing more buffs to strength and intelligence, as well as increasing their stamina and defense. Though the effects were not as great for Juan, he knew every little increase could make a difference.

  He glanced at the mounted mercenaries chasing them. They are still gaining on us, and behind them are carts full of warriors and archers. Even if they could whittle down the number of horsemen by a third, they would still be outnumbered 50 to 1.

  “There’s the bridge!” cried Harper.

  “Be ready to leave the horses!” replied Juan. Summoning his bow, he nocked an arrow. Though he hadn’t needed different arrow types in years, he wished he had stocked up on them. I really wish I had explosive arrows. Those would be extremely useful right now.

  He decided to take out the mercenary horses. Each one would cause a domino effect if he could kill them in one shot. He aimed high and started loosing arrow after arrow. Not all of them hit their marks, though, striking tack and saddle, and even the riders.

  Finn started firing off his poison bolts, which sought out their targets with unerring precision. Juan was pleased to see the boy could shoot more of those things than before. Even with the irregular route his training had taken.

  The roar of anger and bloodlust, as well as the crash and cries of the horses, rolled over them as men and horses fell to Juan’s deadly arrows. He actually saw a couple drop off their horses and assumed it was from the poison buildup in their systems. Horses tripped and reared, slowing down entire sections of the crowded formation. Carts swerved and tipped, the screams of the soldiers riding them reaching his ears. A grim smile graced Juan’s face at the devastation he had wrought. But still they came.

  Juan’s thoughts became dark as he continued to twist and fire with increasing accuracy while the enemy caught up to them. Even if the four of them could get over the bridge without the horses, they would be constantly fighting and retreating. They couldn’t cut or even burn the bridge. Despite the age of the structure, the enchantments layered on the bridge by the long-dead Zuul civilization remained effective. They had no choice but to fight.

  No, I have no choice. The thought made him tired and filled him with regret. He had fought for so long. His entire life from the point of waking up here had been of conflict. There were moments, though, that had been pure. Moments with Allianna. The thrill of stolen kisses in the garden, away from her ladies-in-waiting, her chaperones. The sweetness of her laugh. Mi amor.

  Juan had found joy even in the training of hundreds of people newly come to this world. They were the closest thing to being his children as he would ever have. And he had watched them grow into amazing individuals. No, into heroes. Mis hijos, he thought proudly.

  As he watched the confusion and pain of the dying and injured, he knew what he had to do.

  He had to hold the bridge.

  The four of them were at the bridge before Juan was ready for it. He quickly dismounted and slapped his horse’s rump to send it on its way. Poor thing didn’t need to die. Finn hugged his mare, which the boy had affectionately been calling GB after Harper’s little joke. Finn then turned and unleashed a massive stream of chain lightning against the approaching horde. He must have surged, because it was devastating as it jumped from mercenary to mercenary.

  “Go, go, go!” Juan yelled at him. Harper was hurling daggers as quickly as she could, and Jerseil grabbed his saddlebags. Finn ran onto the bridge, drinking a mana potion, clearly ready to keep fighting. “No time, chico! We must go, vamanos!”

  Juan was the last one on the bridge. The angry yells and jeers of the mercenaries coming after them were almost deafening. Harper ran backwards, throwing daggers over Juan’s shoulder at the first mercenaries on the bridge. Juan stopped, switching to the Seeking Bow of Harmon, which had a full set of charges.

  “What the hell are you doing, old man?” Harper asked.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Not all of us are going to make it if we don’t stop them here.”

  A look of horror and then anger flashed over her face. “The fuck you are! Don’t you fucking do this to me!”

  “Mija,” he said quietly.

  “You can’t do this. I need you. We need you.”

  He smiled sadly and turned to face the oncoming threat. “I’m sorry, chica. I’m proud of you, you know. And I’m counting on you to watch over Finn. Help him get everyone home,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Juan. Please don’t do this! We can figure out something else. I know it!”

  Juan calmly released arrow after arrow into the oncoming soldiers, their bodies falling off the bridge or being kicked off by their living comrades. He knew eventually he’d have to step back several times to keep the needed distance. His arrows would eventually run out, too.

  “We don’t have time for this, mi mija. If you stay, you die. If you die, Finn won’t make it and no one goes home,” Juan said in a voice calmer than it had any right to be. “That, mi hijo, is something I will give my everything for. But I won’t sacrifice you. Do what I cannot. Finish the quest. Please, mija. Go.”

  Harper let out a sob. She held the rest of her grief in, though. “I wish… damn it. No. You, more than anyone know… you raised me. I’m going to miss you, old man,” her voice broke, and she fled.

  “I love you too, mi mija,” Juan whispered. He took his first step back. He’d killed what, 60? 70? There wasn’t enough room at this rate. I’ll just have to kill them faster. He switched to the Elemental Bow of Harmon. Its area of effect was larger and would do the most damage per shot. He had only twenty pulls left on it before it had to be repaired. Not that he’d have to worry about that.

  Two mercenaries went down burning from within and without. Three convulsed with lightning. The wind got six, killing the target and blowing the rest of them off the bridge.

  Juan took a step forward. A wild joy filled him. With nothing to lose, it was just him against the horde of men and women of various races. Some of whom he likely knew from when Nalloth still was a proper country. They would recognize the quality in him that made him the Hero of the Dew-kissed Rose. Their fear and awe would make them hesitate. He laughed and pressed his attack, not backing down.

  He heard someone run up behind him on the bridge. Spears of ice flew past him to impale several soldiers, causing some of them to fall off the bridge alive. Juan didn’t turn around as he heard another potion being swigged. 35 poisonous bolts flew around him and hit with enough force to push the oncoming mercenaries back. Another potion drank.

  “Finn, you’ll kill yourself doing this! What did I tell you about drinking too many?” Juan yelled over his shoulder.

  “Fuck you, Juan. I’m not going to let you commit suicide like this. We can stop them together!” Finn said grimly.

  “How many mana potions was that? Three? Four?”

  Finn fired off more green bolts, pushing more mercenaries back and drinking another mana potion. “That’s six. And I don’t care. My head is throbbing, and soon my stomach will rebel, too. But sacrificing yourself is wrong, you old son of a bitch!”

  Juan switched to the Negative Bow of Harmon. He had only used it once against a naked assassin. The first arrow went through several of the men coming at him before stopping. “Dios mio! It ignores all armor. That would have been nice to know,” he muttered to himself.

  “Juan, come with me! We can win this,” Finn pleaded. He stopped abruptly, groaning. “Oh, God.”

  The sound of Finn throwing up behind him made Juan shake his head. “I warned you, chico. You should go before you poison yourself,” he said with little sympathy.

  He was firing arrow after arrow when one flew past him. “Finn, you need to go NOW! This is too dangerous for you!”

  Finn groaned behind him before throwing up again. “Finn!” Jerseil cried out as he ran up.

  “Get him out of here, Jerseil! Then I need all three of you to run,” Juan snapped. “I’ll hold them as long as I can.”

  “Yes, General! Do you need more arrows? A sword?”

  Juan mentally counted how many arrows he had used, and nodded. “How many arrows can you give me?”

  “I’ve got only 15 bundles of ten, sir. But it’s better than nothing,” Jerseil replied.

  “True, that’s at least 150 more of them I can prevent from getting over this bridge,” Juan said. “Quick, hand them over.”

  Jerseil placed each bundle in his hands, and Juan popped them away to his inventory. “Thank you, Jerseil,” he said tensely as he fired more arrows at the oncoming mercenaries. “Now take Finn and run. He’s used too many mana potions, so you’re going to need to carry him.”

  Juan blew out his mustache as more of the enemy ran onto the bridge. He had only 200 arrows left. For over 400 men, women and God knew what else they had. He heard the male cambion grunt while picking up a groaning Finn. Vaya con Dios, mis hijos.

  An arrow narrowly missed his leg, and he stepped back. Thoughts of his trainees accompanied each arrow. Seeing their quarry get away, the mercenaries changed their tactics and came forward with shields protecting most of their bodies. As long as he was using the Negative Bow, it didn’t matter.

  More archers fired back, and he had to retreat further. Juan risked a quick look back, and no longer saw his charges. Thank God. Now I can give them the time they need.

  But looking back was a mistake. An arrow hit his thigh, glancing off his femur and damaging the muscles there before poking out near his kneecap. “Pinche estupido!” he cursed. The pain was great, but he took a moment to push the arrow the rest of the way out and drink down a health potion before limping back and returning fire. He didn’t have many health potions left. No matter.

  Juan knew the ache in his leg would fade, but he didn’t care. He had a job to do. He couldn’t do anything for his trainees, his children, who had died before. But he could die to protect those who remained. This was how he was going to get them home.

  His arrows weren’t doing as much damage. The mercenaries coming toward him were much higher level than the first ones to attempt crossing the bridge. Much better equipment, too. He was going to run out of arrows. Another enemy arrow barely missed him as he leaned a little to avoid it. I might be old, but I’m still better than these poor excuses for soldiers.

  But then the members of the Steel Falcon company retreated. And he saw why. An ogre. They had a god-forsaken ogre. The massive creature was four times his size, and somehow, they had been able to outfit it in armor. That’s how they dealt with the golems, he thought. I wonder if my prayers will reach the God I was raised with.

  The thing roared at him, spittle flying from its mouth. Juan had no idea how to tell the sex of the monster in the armor it was wearing and only cared clinically. The damn thing was near in level to him, which did not bode well for his chances. Behind it, they had moved up several archers, and they released a volley of arrows at him.

  Juan grinned. At least the cabrones are giving me a resupply! He danced back before the arrows struck and began shooting at the ogre, ignoring its armor. But the Negative Bow of Harmon was out of charges, causing the arrows to be deflected by the ogre’s thick armor.

  The ogre laughed harshly and stepped onto the bridge.

  And I really have to give Finn props for stepping up and joining the fray the way he did! Brave and foolish as it is, I'm glad he did. But the high mana cost combined with the potion sensitivity is a real doozy.

  Thanks for reading!