Michenth spoke up. “I agree with my rider’s sentiment. We as the vanguard of the republic must keep all our senses tuned against any threat to the Alliance, from all directions.”
This was a unique statement by Michenth, Mkel thought, suggesting that there could be actual enemies within the Alliance.
“Remember though, my children, we do have several weapons at our disposal besides our talons and breath weapons. Selenth, what is the chromatics most pronounced weakness?”
“We are,” the copper dragon replied.
“No, but close. Rapierth?” Michenth answered.
“Our riders, my Lord Michenth,” the venerable bronze replied.
“True, but that is still not their primary weakness. Gallanth?” the arch dragon continued the questioning.
“It is their pride and arrogance, Lord Michenth,” Gallanth answered.
“Precisely, my brothers, and this weakness is what we will exploit just as Gallanth has done in Battle Point. The chromatics are so obsessed with their own power and avarice that it blinds them to wisdom, and this is also the Morgathians’ weakness as well. Our own Enlightened senators suffer from this affliction in their own right, but they do have the patience to scheme and plot, to strike when they feel that we are at our weakest, so keep your wits about you and remember your oath to the Alliance. Also remember that all we do, all we sacrifice, all those who died defending the republic and its freedom only buys us time against the cancerous evil of the pseudo-enlightened or apologists, that dark side of men and dragons that can inflict destruction upon a nation through disunity, disloyalty, and disbelief. Enemies can come in many forms, external and internal, and we must be prepared for both. It has been a pleasure to attend this combined council meeting for the first time since the Great War. My wounds are healing, but slowly. My brothers and sisters, fight the good fight and remember to always keep your faith.”
All rose and formed a tight semicircle centered in front of General Becknor. The arch dragonrider drew his pure mithril long sword, its large diamond dragonstone glowing in an almost silvery light, and let it go. The famed sword levitated to the center of the circle and cast twelve beams of light from the diamond. The rays of concentrated light were directed at the dragonstones of the Weirleaders’ weapons, and they in turn levitated to the center of the circle formed by the riders and surrounded Becknor’s blade. He then crossed his arms and grabbed Keisem’s and Grommel’s hands. They in turn crossed arms and joined all the other dragonriders’ hands forming a human chain of sorts. Their dragonstone weapons glowed so intensely that they almost became one in the scintillating silvery light. Becknor stated in a firm voice, “Dragonriders, defenders of light and the soul of the Alliance,” which all repeated. They then all bowed to Michenth, as did their dragons with all their eyes glowing, before they closed them. This ended the ceremony after a quick prayer to the Creator.
“Young Captain Mkel, I trust that little Michen is doing well?” the mithril dragon asked at the end of the council session.
Mkel, slightly taken back by Michenth’s question, paused a second before answering. “Yes, Lord Michenth, he is doing very well and growing both in size and attitude,” he answered.
“That is always good to hear. Keep him well. I must retire now and sleep,” he stated as he slowly turned and limped back to his chamber, still very stiff from the wound on his flank. This inquiry puzzled Mkel. Why did the arch dragon care about his son? While his benevolence was well known, this focus on this miniscule issue in spite of the many things that Michenth must be concerned with seemed strange.
“Captain Mkel!” Colonel Lordan called over to him as the meeting was breaking up, and the dragons, riders, and other members were beginning to move back to the weir landing.
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
“Mkel, have you heard anything more of the fire giants from your rangers?” he asked.
“Not other than that they are continuing to gather more forces and more chromatics. We have had to be more cautious since my ranger lieutenant and his elf counterpart were compromised and then engaged when they were retrograding from the area. We can only get small teams of our best rangers in, and then they can only stay for a short time, so as not to risk detection. There is a sorcerer there who has a magic detection field in the area so a seeing-eye spell would be compromised at close range. I do feel confident that when they do decide to move, we will know quickly and at what strength they will come,” Mkel explained.
“Well, that will have to do. My centaur scouts and—mounted rangers are watching the passes to their south and have been observing some of their reinforcements arrive, but they must stay to the forested areas for concealment, and that region is very sparse. How did your ranger and elf get compromised?
I know of their reputation, and that would be unusual for them. Is there anything else of Battle Point and Handsdown?” Lordan inquired.
“No, sir. Captain Decren says that since our fight, the region as a whole has been quiet. Even the normal skirmishes from the Kaskars are reduced, so our show of force has all sides dutifully respectful, at least for now. As far as Lieutenant Lupek and Deless getting compromised, it was as if the enemy was actually looking for them, or like they knew they were in the area, almost as if the enemy was tipped off to their whereabouts,” Mkel answered.
“It sounds almost like we have a spy in our midst, so you might want to be cautious about who knows of our reconnaissance and battle plans. That was some fight out there; we can’t thank you and Gallanth enough for saving our hides.”
“We could not have won it without our planning and your and Padonan’s initiative. We did get lucky, but we also outwitted and outfought them,” Mkel answered.
“Let’s hope our luck and our wits hold out, Gold Rider,” Lordan said with his normal friendly smile.
“Sir, as long as the Capital Wing flies, you have no worries,” Padonan walked over adding his usual joking, bravado-tinged comment.
“Some things never change,” Mkel replied as he gave his friend a hug.
“Sorry I didn’t come over before the meeting, but you looked busy. Our fight is still being discussed among the capital dragons and riders, with these demon dragons and the other little surprises we experienced,” Padonan stated.
“I have faith that their superior intellect will come up with solutions and explanations,” Lordan shot a sarcastic comment back to the young silver dragonrider who smiled.
“I think there has been enough discussion on this. Our dragons need meat, and we need ale, my good silver riders,” Mkel interjected.
“I agree with my rider. Strikenth, may you lead us to the feeding grounds,” Gallanth stepped into the conversation to usher everyone into the landing and facilitate an end to the discussion. “Mkel, only a few ales, for you might have to shoot in the games tomorrow if your competition is picked by the drawing,” he added.
“Yes, my friend, just one or two to relax and to wash down this Capital Weir food, for we didn’t get to finish our dinner before the council,” he said with a smile as he looked up at his dragon. “Oh, Dkert, tell Scandalon that Jodem and I wish him luck in the tournament, and you, your brother, and Slidess owe me a drink anyway!” Mkel yelled over to his copper rider friend, who smiled an acknowledgement.
“I think I owe you one as well,” Keisem called to Mkel as he caught up to him and the others.
“I can only have a couple tonight, but I will collect later. Come on and join us for the rest of dinner, my friend,” he answered as he extended his hand to the bronze rider. It felt good to have all his friends back together at one time and in one place. The dinner, while not up to Draden standards, was good, and there was a wide variety of foods available to accommodate the tastes from all the weirs spread out over the far reaches of the Alliance. The Capital Weir spared little expense for a Dragon Council meeting, not to me
ntion the Honors Day Games and celebration. The evening went too fast for Mkel, but he knew there would be more time both during and after the games. He walked with Jodem and his Draden crew back to their temporary quarters beside the landings for the dragons, where Gallanth was already resting and quickly retired.
CHAPTER II
Honors Day Games
The morning of the first day of the games started with a spectacular sunrise over Sauric Bay. By first light, the fields had already been prepped for the games by the weir workers and halflings. Very industrious lot, Mkel thought to himself as they scurried all about the landings, parade grounds, and the amphitheater. As he walked out onto the protruding landing from his alcove, he marveled at the construction of the massive tiered seating that was carved right into the base of the Capital Weir. There were over twelve hundred landing alcoves for the dragons to rest on above the amphitheater, all set in on the northern side of the mountain. However, even with almost all of the dragons in the Alliance assembled there for the games, they did not even occupy a quarter of the external landings. The Alliance currently had just over two hundred and forty dragons of age serving in the weirs, compared to the over twelve hundred before the Great War.
The banners from each alcove were fluttering in the light breeze. Each marked with both the weir symbol and an embossment of the type of dragon perched at that particular landing. Mkel looked up at the dark-blue standard with its blood-red keystone in the center. The image of Gallanth’s head embroidered in golden thread almost radiated in the center of the keystone. The Capital Weir seamstresses are very talented, thought Mkel. Those were the colors that had led the weir into battle, flying beside the Alliance Republic flag. He also knew that the whole weir garrison would soon be marching to battle holding them proudly. He just hoped that he could do them well as their leader and he and Gallanth could get them all back.
After Gallanth had woken Mkel to get ready, he had flown down for something to eat. The Capital Weir grounds crew had a side of the large grouper fish ready for him. These were huge school fish that grew to eighty feet long or more and were a favorite prey of the bronze dragons. A full-grown specimen could satisfy a whole dragon wing. The larger ones could only be taken down by a bronze or larger dragon, the immense sharks of the southern waters, or a whole pack of killer whales. Gallanth liked his well seasoned, and it took a whole barrel of the region’s famous bay spice to get the several-hundred-pound piece of fish to his taste. This spicy concoction was made by halflings and the chefs from Lancastra.
Mkel looked behind him when he heard the down stroke of a huge pair of dragon wings and felt the rush of air from inside the weir. Gallanth had finished his breakfast and now joined him on the alcove as the halfling weir workers were getting food to the landings. “Your breath smells of the Lancastra spice, my friend,” he called to his dragon as Gallanth walked up behind him.
“You are not the only one who enjoys spice in their food, my rider, and remember, I breathe fire,” Gallanth answered with a hint of humor as he lay down behind his rider.
“Maybe you should breathe a little fire to clear your mouth of its aroma,” Mkel joked back to his dragon, who snorted in response in a sort of short dragon chuckle.
The handpicked legion was now assembling to the east of the parade ground, as was the aerial hippogriff battalion behind it. Mkel knew the Capital Wing was still in the weir getting ready. The huge flags of all the weirs and the Alliance provinces were also carefully lined up along the moveable platform in the center of the parade field where the master of ceremony would speak. Mkel knew that his friend Canjon and his brass dragon, Amerenth, were to officiate the opening ceremony and lead the games to begin. Mkel remembered Canjon and his talkative brass dragon negotiating a very skillful treaty during the formation of the Northern Confederation, comprised of the Alliance, Freiland, Southland, and the kingdoms of the northern shore of the Ontaror Sea. While very effective in battle, his and his dragon’s negotiating skills saved more Alliance soldiers’ lives than his sword or Amerenth’s claws ever could have.
“Jodem, Toderan, well, I see my weir council has finally decided to join us for breakfast,” Mkel chided his friends.
“There were some small matters to attend to this morning, sir, with some of our soldiers in the competitions today,” Toderan answered.
“I talked to them on the crystal earlier, and everything was fine,” he said with concern.
“Not our people, Captain, with their positioning for the games with the judges. It was a small disagreement and has been resolved,” he answered.
“I have faith in your negotiating abilities, Weir Sergeant,” Mkel replied.
“The wizards of the Council of Thirteen are almost giddy with excitement at both their part in the opening ceremony and the unveiling of the avenger dragons, along with the spiked drakes and dragon horses,” Jodem also commented.
“Jodem, how are our new young brothers?” Gallanth asked.
“According to Master Hestal, they are anxiously awaiting their debut, pacing behind the walls on the parade grounds of the prison island,” he answered.
“I look forward to meeting them.”
The bugles then sounded as the crowds started to gather in the seats by the thousands. Mkel saw Gallanth pick his head up and look north, and a second later, Valianth emerged from around the corner of the mountain giving a deep challenge roar with Amerenth close behind. Therosvet and his dragon did have a flare for theatrics. Seeing the two dragons so close in flight, Mkel forgot how small the brass dragons were in comparison to their huge gold cousins like Gallanth. Amerenth was roughly twenty-nine yards long, which was a little over one-half of Gallanth’s length. While still large and very fierce, the brass dragons were the smallest of the metallic dragon species, with only the white chromatic dragons being smaller.
They both circled around the parade field and then back-winged well away from the stadium seating so as not to stir up too much dust and loose grass. They both then walked over to the ceremony announcement platform, and their riders and passengers climbed off. The reaction from the crowd was almost thunderous as the dragons bowed their heads in salute. Two council wizards who flanked the platform raised their staffs and projected a huge image of that area up into the sky, so all the tens of thousands could see the proceedings. General Becknor and Colonel Therosvet walked up to the podium with Canjon, the Capital Weir senior cleric close behind them. Canjon drew his long sword and embedded it into a notch on the podium, its emerald dragonstone glowing as it amplified his voice.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, Friends, and Dragons of the Alliance, we welcome you to the thirtieth annual Honors Day Games,” his smooth but crisp voice echoed against the stone side of the mountain. A large cheer arose again from the tens of thousands gathered to watch. “The demonstration we have for you and these games and competitions will be particularly spectacular. The Wizard Council of Thirteen, in conjunction with our elf friends from Allghen Forest, has several surprises for you, which you should all enjoy. We want to thank King Denaris and Queen Eladra as well as King Drekar and the dwarves for their continued friendship and support to our great nation. We also want to remember the purpose of this auspicious event and the very name of this special day. Honors Day is to remind every one of us of the sacrifices of those brave Alliance soldiers and sailors, elves, dwarves, and especially the dragons, who made the ultimate sacrifice for the very freedoms for which the Alliance stands. For all those who have looked outside themselves to serve now, and in the past, for a greater good, thank you. Master Cleric Taylag, will you please render the invocation?” Canjon completed his remarks.
“Thank you, Captain, my children, let us bow our heads in prayer. Great Creator, master of all creatures and the heavens, we give thanks to you for the prosperity and gifts you have bestowed on us and for our great republic. We thank you for giving us the courage to see the good in all and the stre
ngth to defend it. We also thank you for our dragon benefactors, without whose power and guidance, our nation would not be the shining beacon that it is today. May you bless all those who have served and sacrificed for us and continue to do so. Amen,” he finished to the almost immediate cheers of the crowd. Mkel saw the image projected into the sky change to focus on a stunning young woman, who had been picked to sing the anthem of the Alliance. The war cry of Tegent’s griffon broke the short pause before she started to sing. He and two other master bards would provide the music for the anthem on their dragonstone-powered lyres.
All rose and began to mutter the words as the young girl sang the song. Mkel felt the tears well up in his eyes, for he knew what it meant; he was also thinking of those who died defending the republic. After the song, all sat down and General Becknor moved to Canjon’s sword and spoke, “Citizens of the Alliance, on behalf of myself and the Arch dragon Michenth, we declare the Honors Day Games open.”
At the end of his brief speech, four other wizards teleported to the flanks of the platform and fired dozens of multicolored fireball bursts into the air, where they exploded in brilliant flashes of light and almost deafening claps of thunder. Therosvet quickly mounted Valianth, and with a jump and a heft of his polished golden wings, they were airborne flying toward the crowd. The second largest gold dragon in the Alliance burst through the smoke and went into teleport at the last second before flying into the amphitheater, disappearing in a blue-streaked flash. The crowd went crazy with applause as Tegent, his bards, and a large contingent of bugles, flutes, and drums began to play the opening music. Canjon moved back to his sword and began the introductions.
The legion standing ready to the north began to move across the parade field in front of the stadium. The wizards’ projections focused on the marching soldiers, whose steel armor and weapons gleamed in the morning sun. Canjon began to speak.
Dragon Alliance Dark Storm : Dark Storm Page 9
