### 327

Your blow has opened a wide gash in both the Drakkar and his mount. The Kraan spins uncontrollably, discarding its black-clad rider as it spirals earthwards. With the terrible cries of the doomed Drakkar fading below, you wheel to the south to avoid being caught between the two converging squadrons of Kraan-riders.

The quick change of direction increases the distance between you and your pursuers, but the Itikar is badly wounded and you are close to despair; your mount is losing so much blood that it could lapse into unconsciousness at any moment, dropping you like a stone on to Lake Inrahim.

Suddenly, you spot something in the distance. It is a sight that renews your faith in miracles.

Turn to 221.

Text copyright © 1985 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1985 Gary Chalk.