Dragon's Heart

by Martin Gallagher

  Emeldra woke and rose from the shabby cot she had been sleeping on. Scratching her arms, she muttered a curse under her breath. Conditions were very basic, and she was sure she shared her bed with several other tiny creatures, most of which seemed to take a spiteful delight in biting her while she slept. Sanitation was not much better; she had to be escorted by one of the guards to a shallow rock pool with dirty water to wash and slide down into a small gully to attend her other needs. She was only allowed one trip per day. What was more frustrating about it, though, was she wasn’t allowed to look around to see what was going on. The part of the island the guard took her to was relatively unoccupied, so there was no chance to see what her captors were doing.

  Emeldra went through her morning ritual more hastily than usual, her impatience to return to her room more than a little obvious. The guard looked bored and seemed not to notice or care, merely going through the process of returning her and locking her in as a matter of form. Once back, she paced the room, her nerves fraught as she waited for the half-breed to bring her breakfast. Several minutes went by, then several more.

  Emeldra tried to gauge time while she waited. As the minutes ticked by she began to take stock of her appearance by way of a means to make the time pass more quickly. Var Firedragor had supplied her with some fresh clothes: a plain white woollen dress that made her itch and had begun to smell for lack of cleaning, a grey cloak and leather shoes which chafed her toes. Not the sort of thing one would prefer to wear at court, she thought dourly, but at least functional and warm.

  The strange half-breed had managed to sneak her in a glass and a brush so that at least she could brush her hair, which had become knotted. At least she could make herself a little presentable. Emeldra grimaced, breaking out of her revelry; the half-breed must surely be overdue, with her breakfast. She chewed on her bottom lip in worry. Then she heard voices outside and the bolt nosily being drawn.

  There seemed to be a commotion going on outside as the half-breed man entered, carrying a tray with a bowl of what looked like a lumpy gruel with a wooden spoon in it. He put the tray on the rickety table and wordlessly went back to the door, listening intently before turning to Emeldra.

  “Highness, it’s time to leave. Several ships are drawing near to the island, and everyone here is preparing for battle,” the man whispered, keeping one eye on the door.

  “What about the guards?” Emeldra whispered back; she felt committed now. It may all be an elaborate ploy by Firedragor, but she could not turn back now.

  “They’ve left only one guard on the door; I’ll take care of him,” he said casually, drawing something from inside his ragged cloak. Emeldra drew a hissing breath as she caught the glint of steel in his hand. The man’s voice seemed to change from a nervous rasp to one of cold certainty. Without further remark he turned, rapping on the door for the guard to let him out, his dagger held low under his cloak.

  Emeldra held her breath nerves tightly wound as the guard opened the door. The two spoke, then, before she even realised what was happening the guard slumped forward with a low moan. The half-breed man bent and cleaned his dagger on his victim’s tunic as blood pooled on the floor. Rising, he turned in one fluid motion, gesturing quietly for Emeldra to follow. She followed the half-breed through a rear door in the building which had been her prison.

  “I think this is near enough, for now, Oswin,” Captain Daniel said as he studied the island. “How far do you think those wards extend, Matra?” the captain continued, turning to Matra.

  “They won’t come out as far as the beach, wards like that need solid ground to keep them in place,” Matra answered.

  “Are all your subjects this offhand with their king cousin?” King Faldarin, asked raising an eyebrow as he spoke.

  “The captain is anyway. I’ve known him a long time. I’ve tried to break him of the habit without much success though,” stated King Amard wryly. The Tennar bobbed slightly in the relatively calm seas as the companions gathered on the deck. The sky was clear and bright with only a few clouds.

  “When will these dragon friends of yours arrive, Matra?” The daughter-heir asked, her lips pouting and her long dark hair blowing in the wind. Her stance was one that made her alluring although she seemed unaware of it.

  “Any time now, I think,” Matra answered. A moment later a sailor shouted, pointing skyward. A small black hole began to appear in the sky above the gathered ships. As they watched it grew bigger, swelling into an inky black disc; then a gold dragon appeared out of the hole. Moments later more gold and blue dragons appeared from the disc. Then several more black holes appeared, and more dragons appeared, gold, blue and bronze, until the sky above them filled with dragons.

  “My God!” the daughter-heir breathed her eyes wide in awe.

  “I think we’re ready now, Your Majesty,” Matra told King Faldarin as the black discs began to wink out again. The king nodded, and Captain Daniel shouted to the helmsman.

  “We’ll get as near as we can then lower the long boats. If Matra is right we should be able to get well up from the beach before we hit those wards you mentioned that are supposed to be there.” His expression sceptical, the captain stubbornly refused to believe in something he couldn’t see for himself.

  Matra and his friends gathered on the sandy beach some time later as a group of dragons began attacking the wards around the island. Matra looked up to see flickers of light flashing, highlighting what seemed to be a dome that extended out to cover most of the island. The shield stopped a couple of hundred feet in front of them.

  The monarchs had agreed to stay on the ship until the wards had broken while Matra and Jason, together with the Amadon maidens and a selected group of hand-picked soldiers from each of the gathered nations, were to try and find a weakness in the shield so they could sneak through, hopefully undetected.

  “What now?” the daughter-heir looked around, her eyes intent. She had insisted on coming with Matra in spite of the two monarchs’ pleas for her to stay on board ship. Major Liskan stood protectively beside the daughter-heir.

  “We break up into groups. Each group will have a sorcerer to counter any magic traps we encounter,” Matra replied grimly.

  Jason and Marcus Lanton took one group and headed east along the beach while Matra, Casandra and most of the maidens went west. Matra headed slightly inland until he could sense the wards. Looking skywards he noted the dragons still attacking the island’s defences. He senses told him it wouldn’t be long before they broke, then the real battle would begin.

  He needed to be well inside and find Emeldra before the fighting got too bad. They climbed over a rocky slope dotted with an occasional bush. Matra studied the ground in front of him carefully, looking for a gap in the wards.

  “So what is this princess of yours like?” Casandra asked curiously as she came to walk beside him. Matra stopped looking at the daughter-heir. He liked this strong, wilful woman with her easy manner and quick humour. Matra realised perhaps for the first time that as much as he liked Casandra, he loved Emeldra. The beautiful pale princess had captured his heart almost from the first. Casandra noted the look on his face.

  “Oh, it’s like that, is it? Don’t worry, Matra, we’ll get your princess back for you.” She tentatively touched his arm.

  “Thank you, Casandra,” Matra said simply, and they continued together with Hedra giving the daughter-heir a frosty look that showed her disapproval.

  “There is a gap here which I might be able to widen,” Matra said, coming to a halt several minutes later.

  “Won't the red dragons be able to detect what you are doing?” Major Liskan asked, staring round intently.

  “With all that’s going on above us I very much doubt it,” Matra answered abstractly as he concentrated his will. “There, that’s it.” There was a sudden flash in front of them and a faint buzzing noise, then Matra walked forward with the others close behind.

  They had gone only a short distance when a group of Paenalirs jump
ed from hiding to attack them. Matra raised his hand and a bolt of energy shot from his fingertips. Half the attackers fell, either dead or writhing in agony. Casandra charged the rest, her two-handed sword swinging in deadly arcs. With each stroke a Paenalir fell. Hedra and her maidens cleared the rest with ruthless efficiency.

  “I expect they will have set ambushes like this all around the island, it’s a standard tactic to slow us down and whittle our numbers,” stated Major Liskan.

  “This is a coward’s way,” Hedra said disdainfully. Matra waved them on again before the major could mouth the objection on his tongue. They followed a narrow path up the hillside. Major Liskan had been right in his assumption of the enemy’s tactics; they met another two ambushes which were dealt with in a similar fashion, sustaining only light casualties. Matra hoped Jason and his group fared at least as well. They stopped near the crest of a hill, just out of sight of the ruined city.

  “We’ll rest here for a bit, it’s going to be a long day, and we will need all our strength,” Matra said. Casandra looked up at the display of lights above them as Matra’s dragon friends attacked the wards.

  “How much longer before they break through, Matra?” she asked. Matra seemed not to notice, lost in thought, then he grunted.

  “Sorry, I’ve just been communicating with Mother. It won’t be long now, as soon as the wards go down we go over the hill so get ready. Oh I’ve just got word from Marcus and Jason. They’re in position on the far side. They ran into a few ambushes as well but nothing serious,” Matra concluded.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  They waited tensely for what seemed like hours, then there came a deafening rattle like thunder. The sky lit up with an angry red glow which faded quickly to be followed by a fierce blast of wind which nearly toppled them from their positions. When all returned to normal Matra gave the word, and they sprang from hiding rushing towards the ruined city.

  The sky filled with dragons reeling and diving at each other. Fire laced across the sky and flashes of raw energy and lightning danced to and fro. The sound of the combating dragons as they bellowed at one and other and the screeches of their pain merged into a horrendous din. Dead and wounded dragons began to fall from the sky.

  The two monarchs and the main body of their armies beached their boats and charged inland, meeting no resistance as they clambered up towards the ruined city. Matra’s forces had effectively removed any obstacles keeping them from reaching the top of the rocky hillside.

  “Matra.” Emeldra’s voice cut into Matra’s thoughts with sudden sharp clarity. He turned calling to Casandra to cover him as he drew aside from the fighting around them.

  “Emeldra, where are you?” Matra sent his thought out, desperately seeking the princess.

  “I’m in a cave with a friend on the south west of the island,” explained the princess.

  “A friend? Matra sent back with some relief that the princess was at least safe for the moment.

  “Yes, one of Father’s spies. Is my father with you?” Emeldra sent, her tone slightly strained.

  “Not far away. Sit tight and I’ll come to you,” Matra answered as he returned to the fighting. Jason had joined them with Marcus Lanton. The sorcerer cast a spell negligently at a group of mercenaries rushing them. Fire blossomed from his fingertips, incinerating the attackers to charred remains. Several gold dragons hovered protectively above Matra, fighting off attackers from the air and on the ground.

  “Here comes your king, and the rest of the army,” Casandra called, panting slightly. She had a cut on her cheek and blood ran down her arms and spattered the light chain mail armour she wore. Major Liskan stood not far away, rallying his forces to the daughter-heir as she once more pressed forward. The two monarchs joined Jason, Marcus and General Sandar, pushing the enemy from the rear.

  “I’m going to find the princess,” Matra called to King Faldarin. The king nodded as he cut down an attacking Paenalir with a single sweeping stroke of his broadsword. As Matra left with Hedra and a few of the maidens he turned back briefly, to see King Faldarin lunge forward to skewer another attacker.

  “He told you to wait, Highness; if we wander out there now we could get mixed up with the general confusion and your dragon friend might not be able to find you,” the spy said with some asperity. He wanted to keep the princess safe as possible, and he wasn’t sure if he could do that in the middle of a pitched battle. Even from where they watched they could see dragons fighting overhead and what fell from the now murky skies almost like rain was gruesome indeed.

  “Damn it all, I can’t stand around here any longer. Father is out there and Matra, they may need my help,” Emeldra said, storming toward the cave entrance. A gold dragon alighted just outside the cave. Emeldra stopped, uncertain as to whether the dragon was friend or foe.

  Then she grinned openly in recognition of the majestic dragon before her. “Cara!” Emeldra exclaimed aloud. Relieved, she climbed on Cara’s back, waving the nervous spy to follow her. The gold dragon bounded into the open, her wings flapped in effortless motion as she lifted skyward, her two passengers hanging on tightly.

  Matra found his path blocked by several red dragons. Quickly explaining what he intended to Hedra, he shapeshifted and Hedra and the maidens climbed on his back. Matra’s shield flared as the dragons attacked. He sent dragonfire at his attackers then momentary dropped his shield. The maidens threw their poison-tipped spears at the attacking dragons as Matra wheeled off to the right, reforming his shield around him and the maidens as he went. It was difficult to find space to fly in as dragons seemed to be everywhere. Matra noted that some of the blue dragons carried sorcerers on their backs, the combined attacks of dragon and sorcerer having a distinct advantage.

  “I have her, my son, fear not,” Cara sent. Matra looked up to find the gold dragon above him; the princess sat on her back, wielding a sword from which fire and bolts of lightning shot forth to strike down their foes. It was an awesome sight to behold, to see her sitting on the gold dragon’s back, venting her wrath on those wishing her harm.

  On the ground, the battle raged on. Casandra, though growing tired, fought like a demon beside King Amard, Jason and General Sandar. King Faldarin took a wound to his side, and the fearless Knights of Ladlian had faltered in their advance, seeing their king seriously wounded. Only Casandra’s raw courage kept the momentum going.

  Battle-scarred and weary the three of them fought on, side by side, their gathered armies rallying around their leaders. From time to time, one of the opposing dragons tried to attack the ground forces, only to be beaten back by their dragon allies hovering protectively above them.

  Jason sweated in his armour. His arms growing heavy, he parried an attack from a Paenilar and battered the man back with his sword. The Paenilar screamed as Jason ran him through. He turned to see a mercenary stalking King Amard. Jason lunged at the stalker. With a snarl, he sent the man’s head flying with an overhead swing of his sword.

  The Daryl King turned and grimly nodding his thanks before turning to meet a fanatic Paenalir rush at him. King Amard sidestepped and gutted the man. Jason chopped at another attacker, splitting the man nearly in two. Wearily he advanced. He caught a glance of a spear aimed at King Amard. With one king already disabled it would hurt their morale if anything were to happen to King Amard now. Jason acted instinctively; he thrust himself in front of the king, his shield held high. The spear thudded into the shield; King Amard turned to thank the young knight for saving his life a second time.

  The king’s muttered thanks turned into a cry of dismay as he saw Jason fall beneath a foe’s sword. The young knight had left himself unprotected as he had rashly rushed to the king’s defence. King Amard’s anguish turned to rage and he charged forward, bent on avenging the young knight who had so gallantly saved his life not once but twice. It was only the quick thinking and determination of Casandra that saved the young King of Daryl from finally being slain as he rushed forward, heedless of his safety. Casandra saw w
hat had happened and she shouted to General Sandar to follow the king.

  The general took the situation in at a glance and called to his captain to follow just as Casandra rushed forward to stand beside the enraged king. Though tired beyond endurance Casandra fought on her sword, whirling in its circle of death.

  It was General Sandar who picked the exhausted daughter-heir up later and had his men take her to the beach where the wounded were being tended.

  Side by side in the air Matra and Cara fought, with Emeldra on Cara’s back. The jewelled sword Cara had given her glowed hotly with the energies Emeldra channelled through it. Soltin joined them, the bronze dragon Matra had befriended earlier. Soltin had been largely responsible for the large contingent of bronze dragons that had supported them and had come to their aid. The young bronze was scathing in his condemnation of the red dragons and went about showing his feelings towards them by showering his attackers with a special spell of his own. Balls of fire flew from him to break up into tongues of flame which showered the targeted dragons.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Towards sunset the outcome of the battle still seemed uncertain; then a bellowing roar of challenge came that could be heard above the general clamour of battle. Above the highest peak on the island, a huge dragon rose. The dragon’s blue-grey scales showed great age, half again the size of the largest gold dragon. The dragon spread its wings which seemed to cover the peak it hovered above. Searing jagged bolts of energy burst forth from its wingtips, hitting many of the nearby red dragons. Shields disintegrated under the sheer force of the attack and those dragons caught in the centre were no more. Those on the outer edges of the onslaught were tossed aside like rag dolls to fall dead or badly maimed to the ground.

  A sudden hush fell over the battlefield as both sides stopped in awed amazement at what they had witnessed. The fight went out of the red dragons’ ground forces, and only a few red dragons remained to fight on. Even the other dragons that had supported Firedragor either fled or surrendered.