The Piercer of Hearts

     I wheeled to the side, dropping one wing into a sharp gust.  Propelled forward, I shot into a dive.  My beak met linen before flesh.  My victim dropped his sword and clutched his bleeding shoulder.
     On my ascent, I peered to the other side of the battlefield.  My friends, the humans of Daikarth, were advancing steadily.  Their pile of dead was thinner than their opponents'.  We were hitting their right flank hard.  The pool of green shrunk further.
     I shifted position toward our opposite flank.  My wings had to beat double-time to conquer the wind.  After reaching the leftmost extreme, where the fighting was a virtual stalemate, I relaxed and dropped, pulling myself rightward.
     A red helmet gleamed on the ground.  I descended almost to his shoulder and opened my beak.  "Sir Godfrey, what news have you?"
     The knight looked up and flinched.  Once he had recovered from the sight with an exclamation of, "those darn speaking owls," he sighed.  "The Carathan infantry be strong here.  We can only hold them up.  How be it at the other side?"
     "The right flank be thick with our enemies' blood.  We charge forward," I replied at a raised volume.  "Need you cavalry support?"
     Sir Godfrey nodded.  "Sir Malley's men would reap here.  How be them?"
     I regained altitude to scan out our cavalry.  The largest group, Sir Malley's, held back just left of center.  "In reserve, Sir Godfrey.  Call for them?"
     "By all the saints, yes, fair owl.  What be you called, to tell our you aid?"
     "They call me Piercer...the Piercer of Hearts."