There was no time to think it through. Brina made the call the moment the shape resolved itself into something real and enormous on the road ahead.
"Elena, run back to camp and grab the oil. Girls, ready your fire bolts now!"
Elena was already turning her horse before the sentence finished. The rest drew and nocked, and Brina kept her eyes forward.
It was a juvenile. Even from this distance the proportions were wrong for a full adult, but wrong in the way that still made your stomach drop. It was massive, easily four meters at the shoulder, its feathers a mottled dark brown that had blended perfectly into the predawn road until it was far too close for comfort. The open stretch of paved road between them offered nothing in the way of cover. No treeline close enough, no boulders, nothing to funnel or slow it. Whatever happened next was going to happen in the open.
"Retreat slowly and keep firing! Make sure its focus stays on us!"
The bolts began to fly. Fire-tipped and humming, they caught the early light as they arced toward the creature. Several landed. The Bearowl shrieked at the impacts, a sound that was more rage than pain, and it kept coming, its forward limbs churning the road with that low ground-eating lope Robert had described. Fast for something that size. Unsettlingly fast.
Brina pushed her horse forward to meet it, drawing the thing's attention while Sophia, Mira, and Jen worked the flanks, jabbing with their spears at its sides whenever it turned. It was ugly, close-up work. The creature snapped and swung and its clawed forearms threw up chunks of road stone when they came down. Brina took a glancing hit across her shield arm that she felt in her teeth, but she held her ground and kept it occupied.
Then Elena came back at a hard gallop, oil jar in each hand, her face red from the run and the cold air both.
"Brina, I'm here! I'm throwing them at that ugly bastard now!"
She let both jars fly. The first shattered across the Bearowl's left flank. The second caught its forearm, the thick feathered gliding limb, and the oil spread dark and wet across the feathers. The creature shook itself and snapped toward the new source of irritation.
"Burn it. Now."
The bolts flew true. They hit the oil-soaked feathers and the fire took immediately, rushing up across the forearm and spreading to the flank. The Bearowl's screech changed register entirely, from anger into something rawer and more desperate, and it reeled backward, twisting at the flame it could not reach. The sound of it filled the whole stretch of road and rolled out into the surrounding fields.
"Poke your spears, loose your bolts, and then we run!"
They gave it one last concentrated volley, spear tips and crossbow bolts both, before Brina wheeled her horse and shouted the retreat. They rode hard, putting distance between themselves and the burning shape behind them.
When Brina finally looked back, the Bearowl was not following. It had turned. It moved back the way it came, still alight, its silhouette flickering against the gray dawn as it retreated into the dark at the road's edge. Its feathers were ruined, scorched down to uneven patches. It would not be gliding again anytime soon. What had seemed like an easy hunt had bitten back, and the creature had learned something about humans that morning that it would not be able to forget quickly. Its tiny feathered tail was tucked tight as it disappeared.
The adrenaline held for a while longer than Brina expected. It was only when they had stopped, caught their breath, and stood in silence on the empty road that it began to let go. When it did, she felt her hands shake slightly before she steadied them. Beside her, Sophia let out a long breath that was almost a laugh. Mira was gripping her reins too hard. Jen said nothing, just stared at the place where the creature had vanished, and Brina understood the look on her face because she was wearing something similar herself.
They had heard the stories. Everyone in the order had. But stories did not quite carry the weight of the thing in front of you.
They rode back to camp and found the people the Bearowl had been chasing still gathered there, some sitting, some standing, none of them steady. When the squad returned they looked up and the relief broke open on their faces all at once. Several wept without shame. A few had soiled themselves in the terror of the chase and they would not meet anyone's eyes, but Brina and her team gave no indication they noticed. There were things that happened to a body under that kind of fear and there was no dignity to be preserved by remarking on it. They waited, watered the horses, and let the shaking settle before asking anything at all.
Once the merchants had washed and changed and some color had returned to their faces, they told their story. They were traders who had set out early from Bareborough Peaks, hoping to make good time on the road. They had heard the rumors about a farmer named Grok the Crazy Farmer and his sighting of something large in the trees, but the village leadership had kept the details quiet to avoid a panic. Nobody had told them directly. They had not known what they were walking into.
Brina told them plainly why the squad was here. The merchants listened and were quiet afterward for a moment.
She led them back down the road to where their goods had been. The cart was wrecked, most of the cargo scattered or destroyed. Their two draft animals were dead. Two of their companions were also dead, further back, and they stood over them without speaking.
Brina helped them cover the bodies properly.
Afterward she stood with her squad off to one side, turning the situation over. Going forward meant arriving at Bareborough short-handed with a wounded and enraged juvenile somewhere in the surrounding area. Going back meant reaching Helwind quickly enough to bring reinforcements, but with no one watching the village in the meantime. The Bearowl was still alive. Still out there. Whether it was bleeding out in the treeline or already circling back toward easier prey, they had no way of knowing.
"If we leave now there is a chance that thing finds Bareborough before anyone else can," she said. "If we go back for help, who knows what will happen while we are riding back towards Helwind."
After some back and forth she made her decision. She turned to the merchants. "Is there anyone among you willing to ride hard to Helwind and request reinforcements? I will pay for the trouble and lend you one of our horses."
One of the men stepped forward without much hesitation. "I will go, sir."
Brina pressed one silver mownie into his hand and handed off the reins. She watched him go, then turned back to her squad.
"We move forward. To Bareborough Peaks, now. Let us help them prepare and hold on until our reinforcements arrive."
The merchants who remained asked if they could travel alongside, wanting to bring their dead back home for a proper burial. Brina said yes without needing to consider it.
They rode on, a larger and quieter group than they had been that morning. It had been a small victory. They had driven the creature off, kept the merchants alive, and none of her own people were seriously hurt. But the Bearowl was not dead, and a wounded animal with burned feathers and a grudge was not something to feel comfortable about.
Reinforcements could not come fast enough.