CHASE OF THE BLUE BLOOD

CHASE OF THE BLUE BLOOD, S.K. Naus

 

Torrid black clouds blistered along the heavens,

Their bellies exploding with cold hard rain.

Majesta’s cloak billowed around her and the horse she was riding

Like a brazen red flame that could not be extinguished.

“Ride on, Victory!” she urged the gray stallion whose ears stood at attention.

The heavy hooves pounded along the well-worn path

As jagged yellow streaks of lightning split the sky in half.

Victory sprang over the narrow trembling brook

And Majesta relished the feel of momentarily lifting into the air.

Her long tresses, dark as midnight, were coiled around her head,

Like the crown of a noble woman.

Rain slashed at her face but her deep blue gaze never faltered.

A crack of thunder did not make her flinch nor alter Victory’s pace.

Up ahead, Majesta could see the castle.

The drawbridge was still down.

Sensing her desperation, Victory leaped in great strides,

Onto the wooden planks, hooves clattering.

Once inside the courtyard, Majesta jumped from the horse

And ran inside the crumbling structure,

Bound for the dungeons.

“Joplin!” she shouted, her voice echoing.

“I am here!” A man’s voice answered.

Feet flying, she found the prince sagging against

The bars of his prison.

“Hurry!” shouted Joplin.  “They will be here before the night ends!”

Using her dagger, she stabbed viciously at the lock till it gave way.

Despite the battle wounds he’d endured,

Joplin grabbed her hand and together they sprinted outside.

Victory, having had his fill of oats and water,

Stood tall and proud, tail flicking back and forth, in wait.

His mighty back bore the weight of them both with ease.

Galloping, they left the castle for the cloak of the forest.

That was when the winged creatures of the night came

Circling high above, their shrieking breaking through the storm.

Loud and piercing were their eerie cries.

Wings as black as midnight stretched across the sky.

They were the evil sorcerers coming to destroy

The home and the bloodline of Majesta and Joplin.

Suddenly the storm ceased.

Raindrops stopped in mid-air.

Fury crackled around them.

Hearts hammering, Majesta and Joplin rode

Eluding ghostly branches stretching towards them.

“We must get to the bridge.”

Joplin’s strained whisper met her ear.

His arms held her tightly.

Heads bowed against the fluttering of wings,

Against the clawing of talons.

They moved swiftly on the powerful horse.

“There!  Ahead!” Majesta pointed.

Light sparkled, colours winked.

Victory was spurred on by the brightness.

The sorcerers screeched and lunged,

Hurling themselves at the riders,

Trying to flay them with their wings,

To knock them from their steed.

To kill them.

To deaden their blue blood.

As one, Majesta and Joplin reached the bridge,

A rainbow arch that led to safety,

To a new kingdom,

To a new life for both.

 

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