Gallanth circled around and flew back toward the garrison as the legion’s catapult stones were streaming through the air. The sky suddenly became crowded, as hundreds of hippogriffs and several griffons were making their way toward their targets. They passed to Gallanth’s left, giving him a wide berth, for they would not fare well ramming into a gold dragon in midair. After they all passed, the immense dragon performed a wing-over-tail maneuver almost over top of the burgeoning lines of the legion formed below.
Gallanth always warned Mkel about this maneuver, in which the forty-five-yard-long dragon almost turned within his own body length. The snap of the maneuver could easily break several of Mkel’s bones or his back if he was not ready for it. Mkel locked his crossbow into place and bent down and hugged the security straps on Gallanth’s neck to spread out the force of the action. The dragonstones on Mkel’s weapons’ shields also aided him in protecting from the force of Gallanth’s flip. The maneuver took less than a second but was very intense. Gallanth nosed down and curled over as he whipped his tail over and then, with blinding speed, straightened himself out, making the 180 degree turn within his own body length. He then gave a forceful down stroke to gain speed and lift and let out a tremendous roar to get the legion’s troops in the battle mind-set. They were also grateful for having him as their ally.
“Captain Mkel, is Silvanth still in the air?” Colonel Wierangan’s voice and image came out of the crystal.
“Yes sir, I will have Gallanth call her over,” he answered.
Silvanth replied immediately as she swung her sunlit shimmering, silvery body around and glided toward the legion infantry columns. Cries of “Dragon, nine o’clock” echoed throughout the legion formations as they quickly adjusted their shields and assumed a defensive posture. The hundreds of legion archers and crossbowmen quickly took aim and began to fire at the diving silver dragon.
Literally hundreds of arrows struck Silvanth’s shield as she breathed a cone of frosty mist onto the legion soldiers. Mkel watched the practice dive run on the regiment through the magnified sight of his crossbow. They reacted well to the attack, although a couple of frosted faces and arms indicated that some were not as quick as they would have liked.
Now the rest of exercise is in the legion’s court, Mkel thought to himself. He could now just watch as Colonel Wierangan, Captain Peasem, and Captain Curram worked to keep the regiment formation and coordination running smoothly. So far, they were doing well. Their eighteen catapults were now pounding the target area. The company of land dragons also began to fire their ballistae, and the archers and crossbowmen were readying to fire.
“Keystone Weir, turn right and move to get out of the regiment’s way!” Mkel ordered his subordinate leaders through his crystal. The leaders shouted out orders, and the whole garrison, including the land dragons, performed a right face and began to walk out of the way of the approaching regiment’s line. They likely did not mind, as there was a great deal of deadly projectiles going over their heads. As the regiment’s main force passed the garrison, they yelled out to wish them good luck. The catapults took the longest time to reposition as a result of the weight and size of the wagons that held their siege machines. This would soon be corrected, Mkel thought hopefully.
Gallanth flew down and back winged about one hundred yards from the garrison to avoid spraying them with dust and debris from his huge wings, just as Silvanth teleported the support corps train behind him. Gallanth walked to the garrison as the catapult section was arriving. “Excellent job,” Mkel shouted from Gallanth’s neck twenty-five feet above the ground.
“Yes, excellent job to you all,” Gallanth echoed in his deep, commanding voice.
“The first round is on the Weir!” Mkel yelled as a loud response came back from the men and dwarves in particular. “All right gentlemen, I will see you back at the Weir. You’re dismissed except for senior leadership and the ones designated to be wounded for the healers to practice their art. I will need the after action report from the leaders by evening,” he explained.
Mkel wanted to give them as much leeway as possible with his and Jodem’s trip to Battle Point in a couple of days. The battle with the giants and their allies could happen at any time, but he felt confident that they would fare well. However, he did not want to underestimate the enemy either. The garrison and regiment overall had a great deal of strength between Gallanth, the key leaders, and his men, dwarves, and elves, as well as the substantial combat power of the regiment. Together, the Weir garrison and the Draden regiment formed the Keystone Legion, or Strike Legion, as it was known. This combined force was roughly the size of a traditional legion, but much more powerful.
As the garrison started to make its way to the bridge to get to the Weir, Gallanth began to walk toward the regiment. They were getting within archer range, for the catapults were firing their last volley and the company of hippogriffs was finishing their last diving run. As they began to fire with all archers and crossbowmen, Gallanth walked softly, or as softly as a forty-five-yard, sixty-ton dragon can walk, to within a hundred yards of the rear of the regiment’s line in between the catapults.
The siege engine battery crews were cranking up the counterweights on their catapults for one last volley. The battery battalion commander was riding back and forth, giving out ranges and directions to his crews. “Range, one thousand paces, converge angles to mass center, fire on my mark, match crystal images,” he yelled out to synchronize the catapults’ angles and distances with a matching point on the map of the area as seen by his crystal. The image was relayed through either a ground observer or one of the aerial battalion hippogriffs or griffon riders. The catapults were turned on their large wagon platforms by a double crank located on either side of the wagon chassis. It took four men to turn them. Distance was determined by how far the counterweight was hoisted on the throw arm. At full lift with the dragon sinew pulley ropes, the catapult could send a sixty-pound stone over a mile or a thirty-pound stone a mile and a half. The regiment’s catapults were larger than the Weir’s but not as mobile, nor did they have the same density of dragon sinew as the Weir’s.
Once all were loaded and locked into place, the commander lifted his battery banner high and then lowered it quickly, while also giving the command through his crystal. Always good to have a backup method of communication, Mkel thought to himself. Within seconds, the commands were echoed and eighteen sixty-pound clay projectiles were hurtling toward the target field. They whistled in unison as they sailed over the heads of the regiment’s marching soldiers, and all crashed into the ground almost simultaneously, giving a tremor as if a dragon had performed a crash landing.
The legion was now only one hundred yards from the targets and quickened their pace. As the front row of infantry thrust their spears into the wooden frames and moved through, Colonel Wierangan called to his cavalry troop to charge in from the left. The troop commander acknowledged and raised his lance and spurred his horse forward. All one hundred twenty heavy horses began to gallop into a charge. This was an impressive sight, to see all those heavy barded warhorses move out in front of the infantry line, armor clanking and lances pointed into a projected line of enemy. Not an easy thing to stop without some powerful magic, Mkel thought to himself.
The land dragons all let loose a stream of fire. Fourteen of the powerful beasts definitely had the garrison’s four beat, but those four under Lieutenant Wheelor were the biggest, fiercest, and most intelligent of all the land dragons in the Alliance. A charge of all fourteen would also be impressive and a definite morale check for an approaching group of giants and their orc underlings.
After the drill culminated, Mkel called to congratulate Colonel Wierangan for the excellent coordination of the exercise and was in turn thanked for the garrison’s performance, the work of the dragons, and the overall success of his men and comrades. He told him he would give him a copy of his summary of the event.
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br /> “Let’s go back, Gallanth,” he told his dragon. All right, but first I have to void, the gold dragon replied. Interestingly enough, dragon excrement was highly sought after by local farmers. It was highly enriched with minerals and promoted plant growth when spread over their fields; it also kept pest insects away as well. The farmers surrounding the Weir were on a rotating basis to receive either Gallanth’s or Silvanth’s wastes.
Gallanth launched into the air, and with three strokes of his massive golden wings, he was over six hundred feet above the ground. He then glided past the Weir fortress and pointed toward the farm on the western side of the mountain. It was a co-op farm with several human and halfling families maintaining it, all veterans. This is the location, Gallanth said to Mkel. “I’m glad you keep track of this,” he replied as Gallanth gave out a greeting roar to notify the farmers. He circled around the farm and then landed in the area beside the cattle stables.
The farmers and their halfling partners came out of the main house at a brisk pace, followed by several of their children. Mkel saw the farmer nodding and pointing that the location he was at was adequate, at which point Gallanth lifted his tail and proceeded to relieve himself. Since a dragon’s diet was composed of meat, organic material and minerals (i.e., gems, for their second stomach, or synthensium, which takes the gems and the very matter of the precious stones and transforms them into the power for their breath weapons and spell ability), their wastes had many positive attributes. The size of a dragon’s waste was equal to a full-grown steer. He only needed to void approximately once a week, and it did not have an offensive odor. It could be consumed by the otyughs but had better benefits elsewhere, plus it was one of the few things that was almost too rich for them to eat.
The farmers and their older children began to immediately shovel the waste onto a nearby wagon for distribution to the fields. The farmers looked up to Gallanth and Mkel and waived a thank you. Mkel waved back, and Gallanth bowed his huge head and said that they were welcome. These same farmers were among the many that supplied the Weir with its foodstuffs and livestock to feed both the garrison and the meat eaters (i.e., the land dragons, griffons, and of course Gallanth and Silvanth).
With that, Gallanth looked over to the farm house at the children that were gathering in the front of the dwelling. “Good afternoon children,” he said as he took several careful steps away from the farmers, and with a leap, a low roar, and one downward stroke of his wings, he was airborne again.
The farmers’ children were waving and shouting with great smiles on their faces as Gallanth and Mkel gained altitude. Gallanth loved children and went out of his way to defend them. Although he loved Michen most of all, and with all his colossal Draconic heart, he cared for all children. Woe to those who had committed crimes against the innocent, but especially to children. His goal would be their pain before he granted them final justice.
They flew up and around the Draden Weir Mountain as Gallanth let out a signal roar. The mountain itself rose well over three thousand feet above the waters of the Severic River that flowed in front of the massive Weir entrance. The gate watch blew the warning horn, which resonated inside the Weir to let any flying creature know to go to ground, for Gallanth would be flying through the entrance and onto the grounds inside the mountain. Gallanth’s right wing dipped as he made a gentle diving turn and flew into the Weir. He sailed over the large interior lake and back winged onto his landing. As he settled down on his bed of gold and gems, Mkel slid down his neck onto his forearm and then jumped to the ground. He took off his riding jacket and helmet and hung them up on the wall of Gallanth’s ledge by the entrance of his chamber, and then he hung up his crossbow.
“You will sleep for a couple of hours?” he asked his dragon mate. Yes, and I will be in attendance for the review this evening and for the dinner, Gallanth replied. “Excellent, my friend, get some rest,” Mkel said as he patted the gold dragon’s cheek. Laying his immense head down, he replied, Give Michen a hug for me, as he closed his four eyelids. Mkel smiled as he walked into his quarters.
“Daddy home,” his son said as he ran to his father as fast as a two-year-old could and hugged Mkel.
“Hello my son,” Mkel said as he grabbed Michen and picked him up. “Thank you, my dear, for helping out today along with Silvanth,” Mkel said to Annan as he walked over to her while she was reading a book by their bed.
“It was nice to get out and fly with her, and it is a beautiful day today,” she replied.
“How about we go for a walk along the river when Michen takes his nap?” he asked.
“All right, but only this time,” she said with a wry smile.
“Yes, I’ll have to sacrifice my crossbow and sword practice with Jodem for you,” he added.
“It’s about time,” she replied with a combination of teasing and irritation.
“Captain Mkel, I have some sandwiches and soup for you if you haven’t already eaten,” Janta said as she walked in with a tray of food and a small cauldron of stew.
“That sounds excellent. Michen, are you hungry?” Mkel asked his son.
“Hungree, meat, bread,” the little one answered.
“All right, Michen, let’s eat,” Mkel told his son as they walked into their small dining room.
Mkel fed his son as he ran around the room, while he hurriedly ate himself with Annan and Janta also helping. Michen’s smile and laugh were as good a medicine to Mkel as the best healing abilities that Watterseth or a dragon could muster, for his love for his son was as unconditional as that of a dragon and rider. The little boy looked just like Jmes, with his platinum blond hair and big but lively blue eyes and soft handsome face. Mkel knew Michen would be tall like Jmes, who was just over six feet.
I hope he will be a dragonrider someday, Mkel thought to himself. This was the wish of all dragonriders who had children, for otherwise they would normally outlive their offspring because of the blood bonding, which extended their own life spans. A blood bonded dragonrider lived at least twice the normal human life span, if not three times or more. This was also the curse of the metallic dragons, for they lived to see the riders they loved eventually come to death, as well as their rider’s children. This is what tended to keep them somber at times and why they were so protective of their riders.
Gallanth was one of the few dragons whose rider died prematurely. Most times the rider and dragon would fight to the death for each other, but circumstances prevented the gold dragon from saving Jmes. During the Great War, the few riders that had their dragons killed almost always went into a berserking frenzy, unleashing any and all spells or entering into a wild melee with their dragonstone weapons. They continued until they were finally brought down after inflicting an incredible amount of damage to the enemy. Only one rider was ever known to live after his dragon was killed; a brass dragonrider from Lancastra Weir.
“All right, little one, it’s time for your nap now,” Mkel said to his son.
“Noo, draagon, see draagon,” his son said in protest.
“Gallanth is sleeping; Michen,” Mkel said, “and you should take a nap too.” He and Annan carried the boy to his crib. “Janta, can you fill his bottle for me?” he asked the little halfling nanny.
“Got it already Mkel, sir,” she quickly replied.
“Don’t call me sir, Janta,” Mkel jokingly scolded her.
Janta was a middle-aged halfling widow whose clan’s caravan was ambushed by an orc raiding party in the unsettled lands. She was one of the few who weren’t killed or taken captive. She stood about three and a half feet tall, which put her just a couple of inches above Michen. A ranger patrol brought her and a handful of others from her clan back to the Weir after they tracked and killed the dire wolf-mounted orcs. They were then offered work either in the Weir or in the town for as long as they needed. She had a very gentle nature about her, and Mkel and Annan needed a nanny
for their son, since Annan went with the support corps if Silvanth wanted a rider. She loved to take care of the large two-year-old, even though he could be rough at times.
Mkel put Michen into his crib and handed him the bottle of milk. Drake the elf hound then moved by the entrance to Michen’s chamber. He was the ever present guardian of his son. “Do you need to go out on the ledge?” he asked the large canine. The dog shook its head and lay down. Elf hounds could sleep eighteen hours a day if they were allowed, but they were always vigilant, even when asleep. No better guardians existed.
“I let him out right before you came in, sir,” Janta explained.
“All right, are you ready, my dear?” Mkel said to Annan as he closed door to Michen’s chamber.
“Yes, just need to get my shoes on,” she replied.
Mkel grabbed his sword and hooked it on his belt; he also grabbed his crossbow from the wall just inside Gallanth’s ledge and slung it over his shoulder, along with a small skin of water.
“You need all that?” Annan snapped.
“Yes dear, just in case. Shall we go out the back and walk through the forest or go down the front entrance?” he asked her.
“Let’s go out the front to the river,” she replied.
“Hey, why don’t we take Michen with us and give him a later nap, that way Janta can get a little break?” he asked.
“All right, that sounds good. Go get him while I finish getting ready,” his wife replied.
Mkel walked back into Michen’s room and asked him if he wanted to go for a walk.
“Walk, Daddy,” his son replied.
“All right, my son, let me get your seat on Drake ready,” Mkel said as he grabbed the rig from the wall and called over the elf hound. He fastened the harness on the two-hundred-fifty-pound-plus dog, placed Michen in the seat, and secured him in. “Let’s go boys,” Mkel said as he directed the large canine out into his chamber. “Annan, are you ready?”
Dragon Alliance: Rise Against Shadow Page 13
