For but a brief moment, Sevael looked on in horror as those soldiers who had the courage, or sheer foolishness, to remain engaged the creature. He wasn't even going to wait for the Duke's permission before putting a horn to his lips and sounding a general retreat, hoping against hope that they would understand. Only then did he mount his horse, riding at the creature, veering off just before he came into its reach. Hopefully a long strip of red and white cloth would attract its attention.
It was fast, but his horse was faster, and he hoped that he could distract it long enough for the others to escape. And of course, escape himself. No point being heroic if you don't survive.