Back at the battle: with Dayhawk not telling us what Lucy's doing, I have to keep the following action separable from Lucy's presumed derring-do. DAYHAWK, your next post should logically relate actions happening _concurrently_ with this post. You can easily kill an Ogre or two in the time this action takes.
============================
Two additional Ogres had fallen to Susan, and one more to Aravis. That still left several active, threatening, and not interested in offering to surrender.
There was no time for Peter to confirm that the others had heard his shout about a live prisoner. The Ogres had had something in reserve in case they met with difficulty; and that reserve, emerging from what seemed a cave mouth nearby, was bounding straight for the High King with a deafening half-roar, half-scream.
It was a Manticore.
Generally shaped like a lion, but with a face like a fanged ape, it also had a tail that was a vertebrate counterpart of a scorpion's tail...and an appetite for human flesh. In this instant of its onslaught, however, the worst thing about it was its sheer momentum, not less than the force of the largest normal lion at full charge. For the second time in two days, the High King regretted not having his spear still in hand--but no, not really; even if he died now, he could not regret having kept Lucy from being bracketed by two Ogres at once.
There was at least a clumsy substitute within reach: the spiked bludgeon of the Ogre he had crippled. Grabbing this with his shield-hand, he got it lifted for an awkward one-handed lunge at the hideous face which made Ogre faces look handsome. Aslan's mercy guided the lunge for Peter, sending the spiked end into the Manticore's mouth. Letting go of the bludgeon as soon as it drew blood, Peter sidestepped, AND raised his shield. The monster's momentum was reduced but not entirely halted...and the stinging tail was coming forward over the monster's left shoulder to strike.
Peter's Red Lion shield stopped the spiky stinger, but he did well to keep on his feet after the impact. Knowing that the tail would naturally recoil, Peter knew that fangs and foreclaws would next menace him before the sting could make another dart. Knowing it, he did not have to ponder it and die still thinking. His sword swung perfectly into the space of air that was being entered from the other direction by reaching forelimbs, wounding both legs though not severing either.
The nightmare face now filled his field of sight, and he got his shield between himself and the four-inch fangs barely in time. He was knocked on his back, but braced his sword-edge against the Manticore's hairy throat for a fierce draw-cut. At the same time, he heard the snarl of Horatius, and felt the vibration of the faithful Leopard springing onto the Manticore's back--wisely landing so close to the root of the huge tail that the stinger could not easily be brought into play against him.
The Manticore was trying to grasp the edge of the shield in its jaws, so as to pry it loose and then finish Peter; at the same time, its claws were tearing into Peter's chainmail, breaking dozens of links and inflicting gashes in Peter's flesh which--SO FAR--were minor. But Peter kept his shield in his control for a precious moment longer, while his sword sawed away at the massive throat, and Horatius was biting in deeper to attack the spinal column.
Suddenly seeming to realize the danger the Leopard posed, the Manticore surged up, throwing off Horatius--but also giving Peter an opening. The High King rose, or flung himself, up enough that he could redirect his sword. Straight into where he guessed the monster's heart to be went his point, and more than a foot of blade.
The Manticore had already been in the act of turning to attack Horatius; thus, what remained of that inertia yanked the sword out of Peter's hand. But the thing was at least weakened; a sting attack on Horatius missed as the Leopard evaded. As if with one mind in two bodies, Peter and Horatius went for the vulnerable armpits of the Manticore's forelegs--Horatius on the right with his teeth, Peter on the left with his dagger. For Peter, who was without a helmet, this had the merit of keeping his head away from the enormous jaws. There ensued the most chaotic battering around Peter had known since the day he slew Maugrim.
Both heroes drew blood copiously from their foe, as did the sword still sticking in its chest. Horatius, unarmored, took rather more harm from frantic claws than Peter did; but they both held out long enough, until--
--Susan, at close range now, finally found her opening to shoot without hitting her brother or the gallant Leopard. Her arrow entered the Manticore's eye, and pierced what passed for its brain. With a last abrasive screech so loud that Susan was literally stunned by it, the Manticore fell dead.
Or almost dead. The horrible tail, driven by a final reflex, lunged straight for Susan. But Peter also lunged, tackling the snakelike appendage and wrestling it to one side. Only when it stopped twitching completely did he let go of it. Then, seeing that the others were managing well enough, he scrambled to stop the bleeding from Horatius' wounds, which were far more serious than his. Peter was going to need new chainmail, but thanks to the craft of Narnian Dwarfs he was not critically injured.