by Stuart Daly
Sara nodded worriedly. ‘He’d more than likely start another war.’
They set off after Roland and caught him just before they rode into Castle Crag. The trio dismounted as soon as they reached the stable. Shanty and Kilt had readied themselves for combat, summoned their Wardens, and were about to join Saxon’s soldiers in the bailey.
‘Talk about cutting it fine,’ Shanty said. ‘A few more minutes and you would’ve missed us.’
Roland patted Georgina on the neck and grinned wolfishly at the dwarf. ‘Are you sure you’re not wearing enough armour? There must be a dozen poor fellows running around in nothing but their underwear thanks to you.’
Shanty beat a gauntleted fist against his iron chest guard. ‘Laugh all you want, but I’m not taking any chances. It’s better to be decked out to the nines than to find yourself in the thick of battle, wishing you had more protection.’
In contrast, Kilt wore her Brotherhood cloak and a leather jerkin. They didn’t offer her much protection, but Caspan reckoned she didn’t want to be encumbered with heavy armour. She was fast on her feet, and relied on her speed in swordplay. She looked at Caspan and opened her mouth to comment, no doubt to offer him some parting words, when Fin’s voice bellowed throughout the courtyard.
‘All right, men, it’s time. Form up in your lines. Those on the right will follow me up to the headland; those on the left will follow Baron Saxon around to the ships. So stop chatting and hurry up. We’ve got a war to fight, and I don’t want to keep the Roon waiting. They’ve travelled a long way, and my blade’s eager to meet them.’
The soldiers cheered defiantly and banged their axes and swords against their shields as they formed into separate lines.
Saxon sat atop a black warhorse that neighed and stamped its front hooves impatiently on the cobbles. Its tail flowed in silken ripples in the slight breeze. The Baron was now fully dressed for war, wearing a suit of half-plate over a knee-length mail shirt. His chest guard, metal shoulder-guards, or pauldrons, and shield were embossed with the heraldic sea-eagle emblem of House Clayborne. He wore his chainmail hood, or coif, pulled back so that it clumped at the back of his neck, revealing his long blond hair tied back in a ponytail.
Fin raised a horn to his lips to give the signal to move off, but Saxon placed a restraining hand on the commander’s shoulder. The Baron then rode through his parting men-at-arms to pull up in front of the members of the Brotherhood.
‘All the soldiers who defend the High Coast have a valuable role to play today,’ he said, his blue eyes resting on Caspan, Roland and Sara. ‘But none more so than you. You can end this fight before it even starts. I only wish we had more magical flying guardians to assist you.’
‘Geez, there’s no pressure on us,’ Roland muttered.
Saxon smiled doggedly, then turned to Shanty and Kilt. ‘Are you ready to ride out?’
Kilt nodded and swung lithely atop her panther, Whisper. She turned to Caspan. ‘I know you think you’re going to be safe, flying several hundred feet above the Roon ships, but be careful. There’s no telling what surprises they’ll have in store for you.’
Roland snorted dismissively. ‘This fight’s as good as won.’
Saxon’s expression was grim. ‘I hope you’re right, because if we don’t win today the High Coast will fall. The Roon will press forward until they join up with the northern army. They’ll then press on to Briston and lay siege to the capital.’ He regarded Caspan, Roland and Sara earnestly. ‘I wish you the best of luck. We’re all counting on you.’ Turning his stallion, the Baron rode back to join Fin.
‘Well, I guess this is where we say farewell,’ Sara said to Kilt and Shanty. ‘Promise you’ll be careful.’
Kilt smiled bravely. ‘We’ll see you back in the hall tonight to celebrate our victory,’ she boasted before riding off to join Saxon’s men-at-arms.
‘Don’t worry,’ Shanty assured Sara. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her.’
Caspan was sure the dwarf would do his best, but he knew anything could happen in the chaotic thick of battle. Surviving had just as much to do with chance as skill with a blade. Still, Kilt would have Whisper fighting by her side, and he couldn’t think of any better protector.
Caspan knew Kilt felt cheated that she didn’t get to play a more active role in their previous mission into Caledon. The boys had infiltrated the highland fort, snuck into the tomb, discovered the hidden Dray weapon, then fought their way out. Meanwhile, Kilt had waited, twiddling her thumbs, back in the camp atop the bluff. She hadn’t said as much, but Caspan could tell from the resolute glint in her eyes that she was determined to prove her worth this time and get her fair share of the action. She was a skilled fighter, but he worried that she’d be too eager to face the enemy and throw caution to the wind.
Fin’s horn sounded, and Saxon led his troops through the barbican and beneath the portcullis. Shanty pointed a finger in warning at Caspan, Roland and Sara. ‘Remember – watch each other’s backs and don’t do anything foolish. War is a cruel mistress; she rarely gives second chances.’ He gripped his reins and steered his magical faun, Ferris, after Kilt and Whisper.
The friends stood silently as they watched the soldiers exit the fort. Soon all that could be heard of them was the distant crunching of their horses’ hooves on the snow-covered track and the jingling of armour. It wasn’t long before these noises faded and were replaced by the sound of the sea-eagle banners above the gatehouse, flapping in the slight breeze.
CHAPTER 3
FROSTBITE’S NEW TALENT
The friends summoned their Wardens. Roland’s manticore, Bandit, and Sara’s pegasus, Cloud Dancer, weren’t particularly fond of the cold and snow. In fact, Caspan was certain they hated it.
In spite of his bulk and fearsome appearance, Bandit was a delicate thing. It was hard for Caspan not to laugh when the Warden whimpered as he tried to tip-toe around a puddle of icy slush that had formed near the stable. Cloud Dancer didn’t fare much better. She shivered as soon as she was summoned and tried to warm herself by a fire in a nearby iron brazier. All the while she stared at Sara, as if pleading to dismiss her back to the astral plane.
In contrast, Frostbite took to the cold like a duck to water. Caspan’s drake seemed invigorated and rolled about blissfully in a deep patch of snow at the base of the castle wall. He made an unusual grunting sound, like a dog makes when gnawing on a bone, and wiggled his tail joyously. Never before had Caspan seen Frostbite in such a playful mood, and he was reminded that drakes were distant relatives of the wyverns and dragons that lived in the icy wastes east of Vorsklagov. This was the first time he had summoned his Warden since the snow started falling yesterday, and he wondered if perhaps only now, after four months, he was really seeing the true Frostbite.
‘There’ll be plenty of time for frolicking about later,’ Caspan said to his Warden, whistling for him to return to his side. The drake dutifully obeyed his command, and it was when Caspan was securing the drake’s specially crafted saddle-blanket that he stopped and gave his Warden a curious look.
Roland glanced up from adjusting Bandit’s straps. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m not too sure.’ Caspan placed his palm in front of Frostbite’s snout. Small clouds of grey air were puffing out of his nostrils. He withdrew his hand quickly and looked to his friends, baffled. ‘It’s scalding hot.’
‘That’s strange. He’s never done that before,’ Sara commented as she finished tightening Cloud Dancer’s harness.
Caspan stared in wonder at Frostbite. ‘You don’t think …’
‘No, surely not,’ Roland interjected. ‘If he was going to start breathing fire, then he would have done it long before now.’ He turned to Sara. ‘Wouldn’t he?’
Sara shrugged. ‘You’d think so. But then again, Frostbite is related to fire-breathing dragons.’
‘Well, there couldn’t have been a better time for him to start,’ Roland said. ‘Mind you, he could have been a little more considerate and started y
esterday. Then we wouldn’t have had to waste all that time filling and stacking the bladders. We mightn’t even need them now.’ He rubbed his hands excitedly. ‘Hey, Cas, see if you can get him to burn something.’
Sara nodded eagerly and pointed at the snowman near the castle wall. Roland had made it yesterday evening, when Caspan and the girls had been busy preparing their aerial arsenal.
Roland was aghast. ‘No! Not Mr Edmund J. J. Cold Toes!’
Caspan grinned. He led Frostbite over towards the wall, then tried his best to demonstrate how to breathe fire through his nose. He felt incredibly silly, especially with Roland laughing hysterically at his efforts, but then Frostbite inhaled, craned his neck forward, and shot twin geysers of blue-coloured fire out of his nostrils, incinerating the snowman.
Roland pouted his bottom lip sadly, removed his bonnet and held it over his heart. ‘Poor Mr Edmund J. P. Cold Nose. His sacrifice will never be forgotten.’
Sara arched a curious eyebrow at him. ‘I thought his name was Mr Edmund J. J. Cold Toes?’
Roland silenced her with a raised hand and suppressed a wry smile. ‘Please, show a little respect, Sara, you cold-hearted woman. This is painful enough as it is.’
Caspan stared at Frostbite in amazement. ‘Aren’t you full of surprises?’
‘Just make sure he doesn’t sneeze on anybody,’ Roland cautioned. ‘Things could get a little roasty, if you take my meaning.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out Bandit’s black face mask. He tied it around the manticore’s head and patted him encouragingly on the neck. Roland winked at his friends, held Bandit by the cheeks, and stared hard into his eyes. ‘I know breathing fire might be a bit much to ask for, but I’m sure you’ve got some hidden talents. So, what have you got for me, buddy?’
The corner of Bandit’s lips curled mischievously. He then yawned in Roland’s face, sending the boy staggering away, coughing and gagging.
‘What on earth have you been eating?’ Roland said as he dropped to his knees and shoved snow into his mouth. ‘Forget Frostbite’s fire-breathing. All we have to do is get Bandit within twenty yards of the Roon and get him to breathe on them!’
Caspan chortled, then turned to Sara. ‘But why would Frostbite wait until now to do this? And why didn’t Master Scott warn me? He also has a drake guardian, and he never said anything about Shimmer breathing fire.’
‘Remember that Frostbite had been in hibernation for a thousand years,’ Sara explained. ‘Perhaps he’d simply forgotten how to breathe fire, and it’s an ability that’s been triggered by the cold. And Shimmer, well, maybe she’s never seen snow before? It might be that Master Scott has spent every winter in the deserts of Salahara, searching for Dray tombs.’ She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. ‘But Roland was right: Frostbite’s timing couldn’t have been better. The Roon are going to get the shock of their lives.’
‘And let’s not even get started on what he can do to snowmen,’ Roland said pointedly.
Caspan shoved Roland playfully. ‘We’ll stick to the bladders as planned,’ he said. ‘After what happened at Saint Justyn’s, I’d like to keep Frostbite well and truly clear of Roon archers.’ He quickly finished harnessing Frostbite. The friends then secured large wicker baskets to the sides of their Wardens. These would later be filled with the bladders, which awaited them at Haven’s Watch.
Caspan climbed atop Frostbite and glanced solemnly at his friends. ‘It’s time.’
Sara swallowed and nodded wordlessly while Roland grinned wolfishly and hooted as he swung atop Bandit. He flicked his manticore’s reins, sending him rising out of the courtyard with several powerful beats of his wings. The black-haired jester looked down at his friends and waved for them to hurry up and join him.
‘Come on. What are you waiting for?’ he hollered. ‘This is going to be epic.’
Sara gripped her reins in trembling fingers and turned to Caspan. ‘I stand corrected. He’s not only simple and uncomplicated, but a complete and utter puddenhead.’
CHAPTER 4
AERIAL ATTACK
The friends first stopped off at Haven’s Watch. Assisted by the sentries at the signal pyre, it didn’t take long to fill the wicker baskets with the bladders. With lit lanterns attached to their belts, the treasure hunters then headed out to sea to attack the Roon fleet.
Caspan led, with Sara and Roland following close behind. Caspan was eager to climb sharply, to hide behind the low-lying clouds so that the Roon wouldn’t see them coming and have time to prepare for their attack. But Cloud Dancer wasn’t a particularly strong flier, and Caspan was concerned that if they rose too quickly not only might Sara struggle to hold position but they might also lose some of their precious cargo. With this in mind, Caspan guided his friends up gently, then levelled off once they reached the clouds.
It was like floating through a sea of mist, with Frostbite’s splayed tail snaking slowly behind, leaving a trail in their wake. Beneath his black hood, Caspan’s sharp eyes spied through breaks in the grey blanket, studying the sea below. He doubted any Roon archers would be able to hit them at this height, but he wanted to remain hidden until he and his friends launched their attack.
It took them about a quarter of an hour to reach the Roon. Caspan alerted Roland and Sara, and flew Frostbite into a large cloud that provided perfect cover. He pulled back gently on Frostbite’s reins, slowing the drake down, then turned to the right, towards a hazy break in the grey screen, from where he could peer down at the enemy.
Since spying on General Brett and Roy Stewart back in Caledon, Caspan had known all along that they would face an invasion force of over three thousand Roon. Before, when peering from the headland, it had been difficult to spot the distant boats and appreciate the size of the fleet. But nothing could have prepared Caspan for the shock of seeing such a large force up close, and he shuddered.
Even from this height, Caspan could see the dragon heads carved into the ships’ prows and the circular iron-rimmed shields slung over their sides. Each boat was equipped with a single sail, which billowed in the wind, driving its crew steadily towards the High Coast. The ships could also be propelled by oars, but these lay in rows on the decks, kept in reserve, Caspan reckoned, for when the giants needed an extra spurt of speed. A helmsman stood at the rear of each ship, steering the vessel by means of a great wooden rudder. They were assisted by navigators standing at the prow, who charted their course towards the cove. The rest of the crew sat in rows on storage chests and crates that doubled as seats, their swords and axes gripped in their hands, ready for combat.
Caspan selected a bladder and exposed its wick to his lantern’s candle. He waited until Roland and Sara had done likewise, then, with his heart racing, began their attack. They kicked their heels into their Wardens’ flanks, sending them diving out of the clouds. The foremost of the Roon vessels were almost directly below them, and the friends carefully timed their shots, compensating for the distance and the movement of the ships. They watched with bated breaths as the bladders fell towards their targets.
Roland cursed as his splashed into the sea several yards behind one of the boats, causing its helmsman and several crewmen to spin around in alarm. But Caspan and Sara had direct hits. Their bladders landed mid-ship and exploded upon impact, engulfing the decks in fire. Ignited oil splattered onto the sails, which burst into flames, sending billowing plumes of smoke into the sky. Giants scrambled desperately for their lives and dived overboard, leaving the ships to drift aimlessly.
One vessel veered to the right and rammed into another ship with such force that the iron-rimmed keel of its projecting dragon prow almost cleaved the other boat in half. Wood splintered and giants screamed as they abandoned ship. Water flooded into the breach, and the shattered mid-section quickly sank into a frothing grave. Soon all that was left was the end of the stern and the dragon head, which slipped into the water like a sea serpent. Jubilant, the friends directed their Wardens back into the clouds and lit new bladders.
‘T
wo down, only ninety-eight left to go,’ Roland said, then sent Bandit swooping down for their next assault.
This time he carefully studied the speed of one of the lead ships and hooted triumphantly when the bladder hit its mast and exploded, sending a fiery shower over the deck. Sara again was successful, with a direct hit mid-deck. The Roon tried desperately to combat the fire with their cloaks and blankets, but these merely caught fire. Even buckets of water proved ineffective, splashing the oil about so that it spread to other parts of the ship, which was soon consumed by the uncontrollable blaze.
Caspan timed his shot to perfection, certain that he would hit his selected ship a yard or two in front of its mast, but the helmsman must have seen him release the bladder and pulled his rudder hard to the right. Assisted by a large swell, the boat sped ahead and veered away, avoiding Caspan’s attack by several yards.
Vowing that he’d do better next time, Caspan kept Frostbite hovering above the ship and readied his next bladder. There was no point returning to the cloud for cover, now that the Roon knew they were up there. It was better they stay where they were and try to hit as many ships as possible.
Peering down, Caspan noted that many of the enemy vessels had now readied their oars. The giants wouldn’t be able to outrun the Wardens, but they could at least try to steer clear of the falling bladders. And it was a tactic that worked effectively, with four of the next six targeted ships avoiding the oil attacks.
‘This isn’t working,’ Roland yelled to Caspan and Sara. ‘We need to go lower so they won’t have time to evade us. It will also allow Frostbite to blast them.’
Sara shook her head. ‘Their archers will pick us off. What we need to do is coordinate our attacks on one ship. We’ll use more bladders, but at least one of us should hit our target.’
‘It sounds like a great idea,’ Caspan commented, leading Frostbite above a ship. ‘Let’s see how it works on this one.’
