Draft of Dragons

by T S Paul

  “I just wanted to learn. Will this now become my tomb?” Mack asked his friend.

  “No. Athena and the others created this place as a hedge against the darkness. The library, not the town or the fortress, the library itself. Let those scaly abominations come. We will destroy them on the very steps!” Owl squawked.

  “What about Marcella’s people and the Garden itself? Do they have an army as well?” Mack asked.

  “I’ll send through a couple of cohorts, but they are on their own. The town there has had a plan in place for more than a century, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. They do have Witches in abundance,” Owl reminded him. “Get moving. We have a great deal to do in an ever-shrinking amount of time.”

  Wiping the sweat from his brow, Boydicus Crvan peered through the shield wall at the enemy. The Draconic forces had been charging straight at them for days now. First the Legion ran out of artillery shells and then the heavy machine guns failed. Using combined arms tactics, his cohort managed to hold the first defensive wall and portcullis for four whole days. At great cost in lives, though. More killed than even he could remember. This wasn’t really his war, but he’d pledged to fight it. It was more than two millennia since he’d seen Rome, but he could still remember it; the buildings, the people, the civilization. An Empire to be proud of. That was before the death of Julian.

  After his murder, nothing was ever the same. Boydicus had found himself stranded in Syria after the new Emperor gave fifteen provinces to the Persians to enable his own escape back to Rome. Boydicus and his comrades had walked home, or at least tried to. It was in sight of the sea that the Owl of Athena had found him. Roman legionnaires were hard men, but after having to fight endless battles on foot with no relief or supplies across hundreds of miles of desert, they were nearly decimated. Swearing to fight for justice and knowledge seemed a better fate than what might wait for them at home. Who was to know whom Emperor Jovian laid the blame upon.

  “First formation!” Centurions walked the line, shouting out the next movement.

  Boydicus pulled his head back from the hole and resumed his line. His cohort and three others stood in an oblong square, facing the enemy. Three groups stood in the front with reserves in the back. If the Drac army attempted to flank, it was their job to counter. His unit was to form the wall and advance. Modern weaponry added a new wrinkle to this classic formation. Men directly behind Boydicus were armed with modern assault weapons. It was their job to fire over the shields, inflicting as much pain and grief as possible.

  “Advance at the beat!” Beating on their shields, the sergeants ordered the first units forward.

  “May my shield be mighty and my sword sharp,” Boydicus muttered to himself. He wasn’t much for prayer, but these weren’t just men that were attacking.

  “Lock shields!”

  Making sure his shield was aligned, Boydicus locked it together with the man on either side of him. They were the wall. At set moments, they would break and provide cover for archers and gunners.

  There was a snick and the sound of a ratchet being drawn. The gunner prepared himself. Gone were the fancy black rifles. Ammo ran out for those more than a day ago. This man held an older Russian model whose reliability was suspect.

  “Say another prayer for us all, Crvan. Death walks before us.” The gunner’s breath was hot and fetid as he leaned forward to speak into Boydicus’s ear. “We’ve had a good run, but Elysium awaits.”

  Boydicus shook his head but didn’t look back or break formation. “This is nothing we haven’t seen before. Remember we faced down Shapur the Great’s army in his own land. What are a few Dragons when compared to that? Stand firm and we will beat these as well.”

  The men on either side of him chuckled but also took a serious tone. “Ever the optimist. This is it for us, though. Better to die in battle than asleep in bed!”

  A loud roar interrupted the conversation before Boydicus could respond. Lowering his shield just a bit, he looked over it at the enemy.

  The biggest Dragon he’d even seen filled his vision. Walking forward on two legs, using its wings to pull it along, the beast shone like oil in the sunlight. Black gleaming scales of death hugged the Dragon’s body. Letting out another roar, the beast shot flame from its mouth straight up into the false sky.

  “At the ready! Brace yourselves now!”

  Boydicus lowered the shield again, even as the Dragon directed its stream of liquid fire at him.

  Whoosh! Fire like the blast of Vesuvius hit the shields and melted them away. The reserves and gunners barely screamed as a wave of flame and the molten remains of their comrades rolled over them. Cohorts on either side of Boydicus dropped their useless shields and ran. Stumbling backwards, they tripped and fell into fire and metal. The screams of those few survivors rang in their ears.

  “This is the end. Open the Gate and send the Legion through. Athena cannot strike directly at them. Her Magick will only last so long against the flame,” Owl’s voice echoed through to everyone in the town square. “Into the shelters or die here.”

  The last undamaged cohort held the fortress as the others fled to safety. Legatus Payne looked to either side of him. Only those with nothing to lose or the most honorable had chosen to hold. “Thank you, my friends. We shall give the heathen a battle the likes of which they have yet to see upon the plains of the Universe.”

  Men, fighters all, nodded to themselves and began to armor up. Fellow legionnaires still burned upon the Plain of Meggido. It was their sacrifice that would allow the Legion time to put their final plans in place.

  “Is everything in place?” The Legatus asked his commanders.

  “Yes. Troops have been sent to Earth and our wounded are sheltering within the Library.” Each cohort was broken up into six centuries, commanded by a centurion. All of the surviving centurions, save the ones sent to Earth, were standing next to the Legatus.

  Bringing a pair of high-powered binoculars up to his eyes, the commander watched the Dragon. It was standing by while the Dracaena and human warriors killed the Legion’s wounded. Muttering almost to himself, the Legatus softly spoke, “Animals.”

  “Drag out whatever guns you’ve got hidden and get ready. We need to hold them as long as we can. Fallback position is the tavern. It will be the only Gate we might take. I expect every one of you to do your duty to Goddess and country.”

  The fortress was the Legion’s ace-in-the-hole. Construction had begun on it almost immediately with changes coming every century. Thousands of years of construction techniques, both practical and otherwise, were incorporated into it. Every new innovation was included, even if it meant tearing half of it down. The current structure might look like it came from the crusades on the outside, but the inside was so very different.

  Rebar, laced with silver, oak, ash, and thorn was layered throughout the massive building with ten ton building blocks of stone lining the outside. The lizards had only once in the Legion’s history attacked the structure itself, but not like this. That had been a flying attack by a young Dragon. A lucky shot with a heavy crossbow had ended him. This was going to be different.

  Two blasts of a very loud horn signaled the enemy’s advance. Instead of the Dragon, it was the Dracaena, interspersed with human mercenaries, that led the charge.

  Long range snipers with Barrett .50 caliber rifles positioned on the fortress’s towers began picking off any human that appeared to be in charge. History had proven that the assorted monsters were mostly immune to modern weaponry. “Mostly” didn’t include rocket propelled grenades or bazooka rounds. Those items were a rarity among the Legion’s stores, and were reserved for dire emergencies.

  Legatus Payne himself readied the first bazooka. “This thing is heavier than it looks.”

  “Yes, sir.” The centurion at his side heaved the tube up onto his commander’s shoulder. Two ammunition bags swung at the man’s sides.

  “Just tap my head when you load,” Payne directed. Using the primitive s
ights, the commander looked down the fifty-four-inch barrel. Both the Dragon in the distance and the first wave of Dracaena behind the humans were to be his targets.

  Each rocket round contained three and a half pounds of shaped charge. If it was good enough for Demons, it should be okay against the Dragons. That was the theory, at least. These weapons were very effective in Europe during Earth’s first Demon war. How the Legion got them was a secret.

  Acting as the loader, the centurion inserted one of the small rockets into the tube and attached the wire connector. “Ready sir?”

  The Legatus nodded, even as he was tapped on the head. Making a sound much like a large shotgun, the bazooka fired as the trigger was pulled.

  Whoosh! With a range of about three hundred yards, the shell hit the first clump of monsters and exploded.

  Not even seeing the threat coming at them, the Dracaena in the center were thrown outward as molten metal from the shape charge punched holes in their armored skin.

  “Got some! Reload,” Payne shouted.

  All up and down the fortress, other Legionnaires were firing similar weapons at the enemy. As the human forces drew closer and within range, large caliber machine guns opened up on them. Men dressed in ancient armor were cut down where they stood. New rivers of blood joined those of the Legion’s.

  Across the field, the Dragon roared at them, but it stayed out of range of the guns.

  Payne felt a tap on his helmet and pulled the trigger. Expecting the kick and roar of a rocket, he almost fell over when it didn’t happen. Looking toward the centurion, he didn’t find him. Instead, Owl sat upon the rampart, looking at him. “We’ve got this. Get to shelter, milord,” Payne said.

  Owl squawked, “That is the first time in centuries that you’ve called me that. You don’t have to do this, Legatus. The bunkers will protect us. They only want the Garden Gate.”

  “No.” Payne leaned the bazooka against the edge of the wall and carefully slipped off his helmet. Sweat streaked and hair matted, the man still looked the part of a crusader captain. Or at least how the movie industry would make him out to be. “I abandoned the fight for one country already. This one I won’t back down from. To use the vernacular, we’ve got this. Get to your shelter and lock it down. We will stand fast until we cannot. Remember us and rebuild. Promise?”

  “Of course. And thank you. You and your men will be remembered and when you reach Elysium give them my best.” With two flaps of his wings, Owl passed overhead and down toward the town.

  “Elysium, that’s a fine sort of place for a quasi-Christian knight’s commander to go, now isn’t it? Hold the line my friends, hold the line.” Payne passed off the bazooka to one of the others, drew his longsword, and ran for the center of the parapet. There was a battle to fight.

  “They plan to fight,” Owl stated as he flew through the massive bronze doors of the library. “Payne wants to go out in a blaze of glory.”

  “What did I say when we advanced him to that position, remember? He’s always expected to go out that way. By making him the commander we were just encouraging him,” Mack responded.

  “No. This was his destiny. We both need to respect that and honor his wishes. Is everyone inside?” Owl asked.

  “Either here or the tavern. A great many passed through to the hall of doors and left. I don’t think they will return,” Mack explained. Otherwhere was but a single stop on what Owl called the Highway of the Universe and humans called the hall of doors. Each doorway opened into another reality or universe. Some only went to rooms, but many were lost worlds or conquered nations.

  “Lock the doors and start praying, then. We have to hold until they pass through. I don’t expect them to occupy us for very long. If our allies act, it should be over in days,” Owl responded.

  Slipping the large bar in place across the door, Mack activated the locking sequence that would prevent the door from being opened. Only a God could open it now. “Pray? I thought you said that Athena was on our side here.”

  “She and the other Gods of Light are, but you know how they can be. A whole Earth century might pass before she even gets out of bed. Don’t worry yourself about it. They’ll be here,” Owl said as he flew past Mack and toward the bunkers.

  “I wasn’t until now. You couldn’t have said something before now? Before the Dragons are at the freaking Gates? Gods above and below, you’re scaring me now!” Mack gave the doors a final check and all but ran toward the center of the library. He had a serious bone to pick with a giant owl.

  Pulao roared his pain into the sky. A rocket device fired by the accursed fortress pierced his wing, causing untold damage to his back and side. The attack had not gone as planned. Thousands of slaves already lay upon the field, dead. Years of preparations and selective breeding, lost to his father’s war. Only the Dracaena remained unaffected. The creatures were varied and unpredictable, too much so for him to direct. Letting them loose to battle upon their own terms was the usual method. “Kill until you cannot kill any longer. I want that commander’s head on a spike!”

  “Great one, shall I attend to your wing?” One of the female healer humans asked.

  Letting loose a gout of flame, the Dragon incinerated the human and all that accompanied her. “Do I look feeble? Aid me not. I won’t give my brothers the edge.”

  “If you keep that up, brother, we won’t have much of an army left. Did the human annoy you that much?” A very loud voice sounded behind Pulao.

  Lifting his large head, the winged Dragon looked backwards across what the humans called the Plain of Megiddo. Another Dragon approached. Wingless, this once bore a hard-armored shell upon its back and large body.

  “Bixi, what hole did you crawl from? Father is really scraping the bottom of the barrel if he sent you to me,” Pulao replied.

  “He instructed me to lead the main assault. You have displeased him by allowing so much to be destroyed,” Bixi growled. “With my shell I can ward off these rockets and melt that accursed place to the ground.”

  Pulao snorted, “Can you now?” Waving his brother forward, he replied, “Feel free to try. This way, at least I can blame you rather than the humans.”

  Bixi brushed past Pulao, knocking him over with his tail. “To victory!” The much larger Dragon, resembling an Earth turtle with a long tail and head, began to breathe fire at the men lining the fortress walls.

  The Legion fired from cover as much as possible, but the flames were too much. Burned and melted bodies of the fallen hung from the walls as the massive Dragon drew closer. Legatus Payne watched the advance with glee. This was it. The Legion’s final stand and the end of a Dragon.

  “Your fort is mine, humans! Why fight me?” Bixi roared and shot a long tongue of flame at the portcullis, setting it aflame. “I’m coming for you.”

  “You’ve come as far as you’re going to, lizard. This is our Universe and there is no place for you here,” Legatus Payne stood up to shout. “Now you die!”

  Bixi’s laugh was more of a roar in response. Tapping his shell, the Dragon taunted Payne, “Go ahead and try. I’m much more protected than you. Get ready to meet your maker.”

  “Race you,” Legatus Payne said in a soft voice even as he dropped the triggers he was holding.

  BOOM! A massive explosion rocked the front of the fortress, throwing shrapnel, earth, and flame skyward.

  Bixi might have been armored across his body but the belly and rear portions of his body were vulnerable. Massive land mines buried deep in the earth were considered weapons of last resort by the men of the Legion. At a quarter of a kiloton, the explosion devastated the rock facing of the fortress exposing the new reinforcements.

  “They are dead! Beyond dead if you can manage it. I want that fortress razed to the ground. Bring forth the Witch. It’s time to end this!” Pulao screamed.

  Esta may have escaped the Demon Lords, but she went someplace worse. New Draconia made Hel look like a paradise. Humans were considered fodder, and gladiator pits the only
key to advancement. It was the Dragons that performed Magick, not humans. If she had not been the host of the Book of Undying she’d have been lunch.

  “Renew our army. Use your Magick and bring them forth from death. Now is the time to repay me for saving you from the pit,” Pulao growled at the last living Strega Witch.

  The dark Witch crouched before the Dragon and pulled out the Book. She flinched as it gained control over her yet again. The spells in the book were the darkest of the dark and they wanted to be used. Raising it to the sky, she chanted words she didn’t even remember memorizing. Her dark spell swirling around her like a mini-tornado, she entreated the Gods of Darkness to hear her plea and grant her the powers of life and death.

  Pulao watched the bodies of the dead carefully. Smoke and dust still shrouded his brother’s corpse but there had been no movement until now. Human and monster alike began to stir on the field. Even the smoldering corpses of the Legion began to rise.

  When the power streamed from her, Esta collapsed onto the ground. The spell was complete, and the Army of Darkness summoned. She was needed now. Pulao wouldn’t eat her, because only she could control the dead.

  Chapter 15

  “Must you put your nasty sweaty feet on the dashboard all the time?” Amber pleaded with Beatrice.

  The much older woman looked away from her digital tablet and smiled. “Yes. The sun dries them out up there.”

  Amber shuddered at the thought of it. This was only one of many arguments the entire group had on this trip. Cramming six people into a van was bad enough. Taking them cross country was worse.

  “Do you think they’ve found Nadya by now?” Rob asked.

  Alex snorted, “Maybe. I hope it’s days before they get to her though. She can just sit there in her own waste and rot for all I care. I do not like being controlled. Saw plenty of that in the SAS.”