Owen waved a fist at the beast as it circled around again. “We’re on your side!” he yelled.
The dragon tipped a wing and flapped off to the other end of the tier to help another silver battling with a mage, who was levitating the debris from the broken buildings and hurling it at the dragons. Some of the stones were being caught by the dragon and thrown back, like a giant game of catch, but others were missed and came tumbling down the tiers in an avalanche. Screams rang up from the injured below.
Sordith was trying to rise when Owen grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.
“You alright?” he yelled. Both their hearing had been affected by the roar of the dragon and the explosion it caused.
The Trench Lord shook his head. Owen sounded far away and as though he were in a barrel. He couldn’t fight the High Minister in this condition. The mansion was right at the top of the last set of stairs, then only another sprint down the walk, but Sordith motioned they should sit for a minute in the lee of the tier wall. He had to regain his balance before he could move against Luthian.
Severent shook his head. He had lost part of his hearing with that last blast. He pulled at his ears, forcing himself to swallow in an attempt to pop the bubble that seemed to have formed over his hearing.
He looked toward the archers on the roof, but they were no longer there. Either the stone projectiles from the explosion of the mansion took them out, or they had not come to the same conclusion as Severent about the house being off limits and had run away. If he lived through this and found them, he would see they never disobeyed him again.
He was still trying to get his hearing back when the Trench Lord and his lackey appeared. At first glance he thought the men were looking to take refuge with the High Minister, but then something about their approach tipped him off to the fact that these might be the ones dispatched to kill the High Minister. If they were, then his work would be easy. These men were like him, with no magic to save them.
Severent looked for his own men; there appeared to be only two left. He could see another one dead, bloody head hanging over the same wall he was hiding behind, victim of a rock from the building below. The guard Severent had stationed at the far side of the compound was gone; the wall of the mansion next door was laying where he had been crouched.
He signaled to the two remaining men that they needed to take out the Trench Lord’s companion; he would handle the ‘Lord’ himself.
They waited until the two passed them before they attacked.
===***===
Owen, who had regained most of his hearing by now, saw them coming first. He pushed Sordith out of the way of Severent’s flying blade, catching it in his own shoulder instead. The big man yanked it out and threw it back at one of the approaching enemies, but it missed its target; Owen had never been as good with a dagger as he was with a sword, and a knife wound hadn’t improved his accuracy any. He drew his sword and shifted it to his left hand as the two men rushed him.
Severent was now out of hiding and descending on Sordith. The Trench Lord, hampered by his hearing loss, was operating almost solely on vision. He drew two knives and let them fly at Severent, but his aim was off; the explosion had not only taken part of his hearing, but also thrown off his balance.
Owen was hacking and slashing at the two other men as they tried to position him between them. Their intention was clear - to hamstring him and bring him down.
Sordith wanted to help, but he was having difficulty keeping Severent at bay. The man had drawn his sword and was thrusting and jabbing at the Trench Lord. Sordith turned his sword away easily enough, but could not get free to help Owen.
He heard his friend holler in pain and saw him go down. Sordith feinted back and pulled another dagger from its sheath, throwing it desperately at the man who was about to take Owen’s head off. This time his aim was true, and the man went down, falling over Owen. This gave the big man time to pull his own dagger, and when the other man hauled his partner’s dead body off Owen, the Trench Lord’s bodyguard rose up with a roar and impaled the man with both his sword and his dagger.
Sordith didn’t see the killing move, being fully occupied fending off Severent - the man was relentless. The Trench Lord had sliced him several times on the arms and abdomen, but he kept on coming. He must not have had another dagger of his own, because he jabbed at Sordith with his sword until he backed him far enough away to grab one of the fallen ones. Then, sword in one hand and knife in the other, he renewed his attack.
===***===
Owen watched the men fight, unable to rise to help. The sword swipe had taken out his right leg, and he knew he would be a cripple for the rest of his life if he survived.
The two remaining assailants circled each other, weariness showing in their movements. They were equal in size, but Severent was built slimmer, with streamlined muscles.. The better living of the Trench Lord had taken an edge off his speed, and the concussion he took from the explosion had only added to his being off-balance and slower to react.
Owen could feel his life draining away. He could not see it, but his adversary must have sliced a main artery. He was growing cold, and his vision was beginning to blur.
He dragged himself the few feet to the man he killed and withdrew the dagger. He needed to save the Trench Lord. The man was the only person the lower folks in the city could trust, and he was Owen’s friend – his only real friend.
Owen caught Sordith’s eye behind Severent’s back. He smiled through his pain and waved the dagger.
===***===
Sordith took a deep breath and charged at Severent. He hacked and slashed, driving the man back toward Owen.
Severent raised his sword and took the blows, but lost ground with each bone crushing whack. He did not have time to look back. He almost stumbled over Owen, and the big man raised his knife in time to catch Luthian’s henchman through the back and into the heart.
Sordith pulled Severent’s dead body off his friend. He fumbled with his belt and got it off to apply a tourniquet. He could not help but remember doing this just recently for Keelee. Keelee had lived, he reminded himself, tightening the belt until Owen groaned in pain.
“You’re going to be alright,” he said a little too loudly.
Owen shook his head. “Not this time, milord.”
“Of course, you are,” Sordith took the dagger from Severent’s body and used it to remove the sleeve from Owen’s shirt. He wrapped it tightly around the man’s leg.
Owen reached out and took his hand. “Leave it. I’m as good as dead.”
Sordith shook him off. “I’ll not lose another friend.”
“What about Luthian?” Owen asked as Sordith almost sent him into unconsciousness applying pressure to his wound.
“There is another who will take care of him,” he hollered over the sound of his plugged ears and the battle around them. “I’m taking care of you.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Keensight landed by the fire Alador kindled as a signal to the dragons. It was located behind the city – a direction no one ever thought of from which an attacking force might come. It wasn’t far from where Sordith and Keelee had crawled out of the trench during the storm.
The rest of the flights glided in to land behind the large red dragon – blue, green, brown, silver, and gold. There were no other reds. The blues were represented by Amaum, accompanied by his mother Pruatra, and three others. The other three flights had five to six dragons each in their groups. Silverbells led the silver, Ivy the green and Smallstone the brown.
“There isn’t much time,” Alador said as soon as they were all gathered round. “Levielle has joined us. As with the bloodmine attack, all who are with us will be wearing the silver dragon on their backs. Bariton will have one of his storm mages send up a lightning bolt when everyone is in place. That will be your signal to attack.”
Keensight moved to Alador’s side and addressed the assembled group. “If you see a human with the dragon sign in trou
ble, go to their aid. Otherwise, concentrate your efforts on the fifth tier. That is where the most powerful and resistant mages will be.”
Alador held up his hand, “But spare the mansion with the protective dome. This is the High Minister’s, and he holds a valuable prisoner. I must be the one to attack his home.”
Keensight did not look down at Alador, but mumbled under his breath, “unless I get to him first.”
Alador knew both his father and Sordith wanted to kill Luthian, but it was his geas that needed to be met, not theirs.
“I have to hurry,” Alador said. “I can’t use the amulet to get through the protective shield in place over the High Minister’s home. Will you take me?” He had never asked Keensight to carry him, though he knew from talking to Dorien that the dragon had invited his brother to ride.
“I will do better than that,” the large red dragon said with a lopsided grin on his face. “Smallstone?” he called.
The small brown dragon trotted up to the red who had taken charge of this attack, as he had the mission to save the bloodmine dragons.
“Yes?” Smallstone answered.
“Please show Alador the back way through to the fifth tier,” Keensight instructed with a wave of his wing.
“Back way?” Alador responded in surprise.
“Go with Smallstone. It is much faster and safer. Be careful my…” Keensight almost said ‘son.’
Alador patted Keensight knowingly on his shoulder and smiled. “You too.” When Smallstone extended a wing, the young mage accepted the invitation to mount, and they flew off toward the cliff top. Alador had nothing to hold onto but the ridge scales, which were uncomfortably poking him in the worst ways. Thankfully, however, it was a short flight.
===***===
Once Alador left, there was nothing for the dragons to do but wait for the signal from Bariton. They posted themselves along the deep shadows of the city and cliff face, waiting tensely.
Keensight sat beside Pruatra, though Amaum stationed himself lower, between a green and one of his blue flight members.
“His emotions are still running high,” Keensight observed.
Pruatra snorted, ruffling her wings in agitation. “The loss of his sister has been hard for him to overcome, but he will in time. He is his father’s son, and will eventually see that what Alador does, he never could do. Just as his father never could before him.”
“I was just like Amaum. Renamaum was wise beyond his years. I fought him, but now I see how wrong I was,” Keensight said, almost as though he could see through Amaum’s eyes. “He will eventually come to accept Alador and his position as dragonsworn.”
“The signal!” Ivy called out from the cliff face just above Keensight’s head.
The lightning bolt streaked through the sky and crackled across the sparse clouds hanging below the half moon.
“Mind the silver dragons,” Keensight intoned as a final warning. “They are our friends.”
He spread his huge wings and lifted off to take part in the battle he had been waiting decades for.
===***===
Amaum was ruthless in his attack. It was as if he were taking out all his pent-up anger on the city and its mages. He swooped and swerved, tucked his wings and dove with incredible force. He could not breathe ice yet, as his mother did, but he could rip, tear, and gouge his way through the humans. He envisioned every one of his victims as Alador.
As the other dragons concentrated on the fifth tier per Keensight’s instructions, Amaum dove lower and fought alongside the Daezun. His wings flapped as he treaded the air beside the fourth tier and ripped the opposing mages off the wall to chomp them and fling them out into the harbor. Amaum became what most humans thought of in a dragon. He was a killer.
A fire mage and a storm mage were standing back-to-back on a rooftop on the fourth tier. They were throwing everything they could conjure at the invading forces below them on the third tier. The fire mage was inundating the Daezun with balls of flaming liquid which exploded and danced across the stones when it hit the walk, catching everything in its path on fire - including the humans, who into flames and ran screaming; anyone they touched burst into flame too.
The storm mage had created a wind which whipped the fire mage’s flame even further. The third tier was becoming a blazing inferno.
Amaum dove into the fray. His ability to summon water was not as great as his elders’, but the water was not far away. He could smell it in the walls of the tiers - there were springs there on each level. He followed his nose, and when he found the source, he hovered, concentrating on pulling the water forward and onto the tier. It began to bubble forth and flow down the walk, extinguishing the flames.
However, he foolishly turned his back on the enemy to do this.
“Amaum!” Pruatra screamed, as she dove toward him.
Amaum turned just in time to see his mother hit by a blast of the fire mage’s flame. She had placed herself in the path of what was meant for him. Her back exploded with the fire, burning so hot it was blue like Rheagos’ flames. Her wings were engulfed in fire before she could make one more down-thrust. She plummeted toward the ground, a ball of flames.
Amaum roared in anger and followed her down as she plunged toward the harbor, her wings barely keeping her airborne. She hit the water and immediately sank. Amaum tucked his wings and dove in after her, but it was too late and her charred body drifted slowly to the bottom.
He thrust his powerful wings and exploded from the surface. As he rose he saw the fire mage had been incinerated by Keensight. The storm mage who had been his helper was scurrying over the wall onto the fifth tier. Amaum watched him dash into a house and slam the door shut – as if that would keep a dragon out!
The young blue attacked the house as if it were a living thing. He would dig out the mage and eat him alive. Nothing would keep him from dispatching revenge on these humans.
He tore and ripped at the house, his talons sinking into the stone like a knife into butter. He threw chunks off the tier, oblivious to the damage they might be doing to those below. He growled and roared, his anger beyond words.
He drew back and pounded his head into the house. It shook in his grasp, its foundation giving. He drew back again, his long neck curling with all the force he could apply, but when he opened his eyes, the mage was there before him on the roof… there was a blinding light… and then blackness.
===***===
Keensight heard Pruatra scream and saw her dive toward Amaum. He immediately perceived the danger, and would have taken the hit from the fire mage if he had only been closer. He saw her wings burst into flame, watching in stunned silence as the fire spread so quickly over them. He could do nothing to help her; she was on her way down before he could even change direction. Instead, he swooped in to dispatch the two mages on the roof, intending to flame them both. He hit the fire mage from behind while the man was still concentrating on Pruatra and Amaum, but the storm mage saw him coming and dropped down while throwing up a shield to protect himself from Keensight’s flames. It was a typical fifth tier mage maneuver – protect yourself – don’t worry about the other mage.
Keensight flew past and was looping around for another strafing run at the storm mage when he saw Amaum burst forth from the harbor in a fountain of water. The young blue saw the storm mage and went after him with tooth and claw.
Keensight was distracted for a moment when Silverbells flew by him and with a mighty roar blasted a house wall on the fifth tier into shards.
When he looked back toward Amaum, the young dragon was bashing his horned head into the storm mage’s hiding place and making the walls rock on their foundation. He was going to help him when he saw what Amaum did not, the mage on the roof.
The man struck Amaum with a bolt of lightning which sent the young dragon flying backward and plunging down the tiers and striking the third tier before Keensight could catch him. The huge red scooped him up, cradling him in his paws as he flew the blue dragon to the pla
in below the Blackguard outlook and laid him down as gently as he could.
Renamaum had been like an older brother to him. Pruatra, Rena and Amaum were like family. He had lost three, he could not lose them all.
He leaned over Amaum as the battle continued to wage behind him. The young dragon had been hit in the face, and had a horrible gash ran across one eye and down almost the full length of his muzzle. Keensight mumbled healing words and leaned in closer. He whispered a sleeping spell and then breathed a searing breath across Amaum’s face.
The young dragon would never see out of that eye again, but he would live to fly another day, and hopefully father other blues for his flight.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alador threw open the door to Luthian’s private office. He looked about wildly for his uncle, arrow knocked and bow drawn tight. When he spotted the older man at the fire, however, he was unable to take the shot - Mesiande had been strategically placed between them. They stood facing the mantle, so Alador was unable to see her face, but Luthian’s posture was relaxed, and that alone worried him.
“Oh! Alador, how nice of you to join us.” Luthian did not turn, but only glanced over his shoulder. “How goes your little uprising anyway?” he asked, the words conversational but his tone dripping malice.
“You are the last to kneel.” Alador stated. “It is over. Release Mesiande from your spell.” He needed her to have a free will for his back-up plan to work.
“Last? Oh, my dear nephew, why do you say that?” It almost looked as if he warmed his hands next to the fire. “You act as if you have won some battle or war.”
“We have taken the city, uncle. Now release Mesiande.” Alador demanded. “If you are going to resist, then we should even the odds. You release her, I will put down my bow.” Alador relaxed the bow as a show of faith.
Luthian finally turned, moving to Mesiande’s side, caressing her face tenderly before running his fingers gently through her hair. “Let her go? Such a shame. She was one of my best guests here.” Luthian sighed softly. “But I can always get back to her once I am ruling this isle. She will be my permanent property, after all.”
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