by Lucinda Hare
Below, Midnight Madness stirred sluggishly, rising awkwardly to his feet beneath the weight of the webbing. Flexing powerful muscles, he shook his neck, throwing off the mesh like a dog shedding water. He had suffered a broken front leg on impact, but that hadn't dulled the red-eyed lust to kill. He leaped up, trailing a tangle of ropes and weights, catching the scent he had been trained to hunt. His damp nostrils flared and his tongue snaked out to taste the air. The prey was still close. Midnight Madness raised his head, red eyes watching as the Earl's dragon corkscrewed down through the mist of falling snow.
Kill ... kill ...
'No!' Quenelda's scream brought the Queen to her feet again. Courtiers peered through the driving snow, trying to see what had caused her to cry out. The Grand Master looked at her curiously as he went to peer down over the balustrade.
Springing upwards on his powerful haunches, the black dragon struck out with his thick neck; his bared teeth snapped towards the Earl. Then he lurched into the air, slowly gaining height despite the rents to his wings, his fractured foreleg hanging useless beneath him. Above, the Earl reined in Knight's Mace and frowned at the mêlée below as stewards circled warily around the riderless rogue dragon, trying to force him downwards by sheer weight of numbers.
Kill ... kill ... The mad whisper persisted in Quenelda's head. Kill the Dragon Lord ... She was desperate. Her father did not know the danger he was in. The stewards didn't know. No one knew but her!
Break off ... break off ... Quenelda urgently instructed the raptor. Break off your attack ... But in his blood frenzy and pain, Midnight Madness either did not hear her or did not heed her words. Baffled, heart hammering, she had no time to puzzle out why, no time to think. Anger boiled through her veins.
Break off your attack ...
Nothing happened. Nothing! No dragon had ever disobeyed her before.
Break off your attack, she whispered.
The stewards crowded around the Earl, trying to coax his injured mount towards the safety of the list platforms, where archers waited.
Quenelda's head throbbed. Her eyes hurt. The slightest noise felt like a blow. Once again she concentrated on the dragon, trying to put her fear for her father out of her mind.
As she did so, strange runes formed in her mind. Words entwined themselves around her thoughts in a language long forgotten. She felt their power gather shape and a spell of binding and obedience take form. From somewhere between memory and imagination she cast the right words from the Elder Days and flung them silently at the midnight-black dragon. What happened next shocked her as much as anyone.
A freezing pulse of power radiated out from Quenelda, instantly turning snow to hail that rattled off the gallery. The wind shrieked, the force of its icy blast tearing at cloaks and ripping the damask awning loose.
All around the arena, men-at-arms staggered drunkenly where they stood, and those deep inside the palace lost their footing and fell. The screaming crowds on the far terraces shivered as goose pimples crawled up their spines and raised the hair on the back of their necks. Children cried out in fear and huddled close to parents.
As the pulse dissolved into nothingness, there was a deafening clap of thunder in the bowl of the arena, and the black dragon was flung upwards and sideways. Only just missing the Earl, he tumbled head over tail into the packed stands as if felled by a giant fist. His flailing body punched a ragged hole in the wooden struts. Oak beams and bones broke like matchsticks; stone imploded. The sound of protesting timbers filled the air, and then a whole section of the arena seating collapsed with a groan that carried to the Queen's pavilion.
Hindered by his broken leg, Midnight Madness clumsily tried to regain his balance. Screaming spectators found themselves crushed like broken dolls by the thrashing tail. New shouts and screams of terror filled the air as the crowd panicked, trampling those around them in their haste to get away.
Head ringing with the effort, trembling with exhaustion, Quenelda felt her legs give way. Chilled to the bone, she sank through Root's outstretched arms and landed heavily. She felt faint and nauseous, the unfamiliar taste of raw magic bitter in her mouth. Despite the wailing wind she could hear the screams and cries and wondered what she had done.
Questions ran wildly through her mind, tumbling, incoherent. Who had caused the dragon to crash into the stands and reduce the royal gallery to a shambles? Was it really her? Clearly nobody else imagined it could be her. She opened her eyes. It was pandemonium.
She saw men trying to anchor the awning as severed pavilion ropes lashed out. Several of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting were on the floor, unconscious; others were being helped back into the castle. The Grand Master had taken off his heavy cloak to throw it around the shaking Queen's shoulders as she gazed down disbelievingly at the scene below. Of those still standing, only Root had noticed Quenelda's collapse and came to her assistance; the others were all riveted by the drama unfolding in the arena below.
'Archers,' the Queen commanded faintly. 'Kill it!'
'Kill it!' The Grand Master loudly conveyed the Queen's wish to the stewards over the howling wind. But not yet, he thought to himself. Not quite yet ... You'll find your arrows will make no difference – he is armoured beneath that outer skin ...
A bugle rang out. Archers! Archers!
Root's head went up as he recognized the call. 'They're going to shoot him, Quenelda,' he said, looking anxiously at her. She was pale and her eyes streamed with tears. He had never seen her cry before, and took her hand. 'It's going to be all right! Your father's safe. The archers are going to kill the dragon!'
Strung out around the lip of the arena, archers lifted their great yew dragonbows and took aim, eyes narrowed to gauge the range, compensating for the wild cross-winds. It was going to be difficult.
Thunk!
Some of the six-foot longbows found their mark. Arrowheads thudded into the dragon's heavy hide, pricking his body like a pincushion, rending holes in his wings. His scream of rage rang out, tearing through the air as if it were fabric, the noise sending shivers down Root's spine. Midnight Madness wildly snapped at the barbs that stung him, but then, unfolding his wings, he took to the air.
Shock and disbelief rippled around the crowd. No unarmoured dragon should be able to withstand the heavy punch of those barbed arrows.
'Break off!' In her frustration and fear, Quenelda screamed out loud; but as the dragon slowly gained height her voice was lost amongst the cries around her. 'Papa! Papa!'
It was no use. The effort of challenging the renegade dragon had left her dizzy and exhausted. Midnight Madness could no longer hear her weak commands and she could no longer hear his thoughts. This problem had never happened before, and she had no idea how to respond. She had always taken dragons' friendship and loyalty for granted. Desperately, she tried to see through the thickening snow. Now if this was a battle ...
Of course! A battledragon! Her father needed a battledragon to fight the raptor, not a schooled jousting dragon.
'Two Gulps ... Two Gulps!' she screamed without knowing she did so, but her words were stolen away by the swirling snow.
'He won't be able to hear you.' Root tried to reason with her.
Quenelda was frantic, her thoughts tumbling, almost incoherent. She cried in dragon tongue, flinging the mental cry for help with all her might to the Winter Tower hidden in the storm. Would it be enough?
Oh, Two Gulps! Papa is in danger ... Two Gulps!
Dancing with Dragons ... The brush of his mind against hers was light as a flake of snow. I come ...
The battledragon was coming! He had answered her call! Relief made her weak at the knees and she collapsed back onto Root again. Hurry, she willed her dragon. Hurry!
Quenelda pulled herself up and leaned dangerously over the balustrade, whorls of snow wrapping her like a cloak of white. Suddenly Two Gulps swooped down like a blazing fire storm through the whirling snow, briefly blotting out the light. The downdraught of his wings blasted the royal gallery wi
th freezing air and blew the snow into whirling coils. Quenelda leaped up onto the balustrade then bounded off onto the armour-scaled wing. As the wing rose up again, she threw herself into the saddle, and then, before any could draw breath, she was away.
'Quenelda! Wait!' She heard Root's cry receding into silence as the snow enveloped her. 'Wait for m—'
She's gone without me! The gnome was stunned as he knelt on the balustrade. I'm her esquire; I'm supposed to be protecting her!
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Cauldron
Darcy watched in slack-jawed amazement as Quenelda executed the difficult manoeuvre to perfection. Unease prickled up his spine. He knew his sister could fly battledragons, but even in his wildest dreams he hadn't realized she was this good. He had not being paying attention, dismissing her as an irritation, someone whose antics generated scandal and gossip at court. For the first time Darcy felt afraid, for Quenelda was now taking his place at their father's side in front of everyone.
The Queen was now at the balustrade, her courtiers beside her, commanding her lords and men-at-arms forward to protect the Earl and his young daughter. The Grand Master was also out of his seat at the edge of the box, unwilling to accept what he had just seen: a young girl leap onto one of her father's battledragons like a seasoned veteran, sweeping down to her father's aid. How had she known the dragon was coming? How had he been summoned? He shook his head. Well, much good it would do her. She would die with her father.
In the labyrinth of corridors and stairs, Root had twice taken a wrong turning. Now, crying with frustration, ignoring the stitch in his side, he finally reached the top of the Winter Tower.
'Chasing the Stars! '
The dragon lifted her delicate head as she heard Root's voice and turned to nuzzle him affectionately. Clutching a stirrup, he bent double to catch his breath.
'Untether ... untether her ...' he panted. 'Quickly!' The roosthands stared at him uncertainly. A sentry started moving towards the roost.
Desperately Root hurled himself into the saddle, gathering up the reins as if he were born to it. 'Hurry!' he commanded as he heard the great roar that greeted the arrival of Quenelda's battledragon in the arena. 'Hurry! The Lady Quenelda's life is in danger!'
That had the desired effect. One of the roosthands slashed the tether rope.
'Up! Up, Chasing the Stars!' Root urged, and she obeyed him instantly, rising up and disappearing into the storm.
Far below, the Earl dimly heard the cheers of the crowd and was puzzled. Had Darcy finally decided to act like a man? he wondered.
Black arrows arced through the air, falling like diving cormorants around the rogue dragon. As Quenelda's battledragon swept into the centre of the arena, two quarrels thumped into his armoured hide. Quenelda screamed with mingled fear and shock.
'Hold your fire!' the keen-eyed captain cried, squinting through the blizzard to identify the flame-red dragon enter the fray. 'Hold your fire. The wind is rising. We might hit the wrong mark!' Beside him the bugler rang out his command. Longbows were lowered. The flight of arrows ceased.
Root was flying, a blaze of magenta-blue flitting through the growing dark. Ducking and diving around the castle towers, gnome and dragon swept over the startled heads of soldiers patrolling the inner bailey battlements and up and over the side of the vast arena. The thundering boom of the crowd rose to greet them but Root hardly heard it as he searched for Quenelda. Banners cracked in the wind; braziers smoked wildly, making him cough as he landed briefly on the mid-landing of the list tree. As yet no one below had noticed him. All was muddle and turmoil. Shouts rose and fell on the wind. Shapes came and went in the murk. He squinted through the snow with his telescope ...
The snow was falling thickly around Quenelda, muting all sound save the whumph of Two Gulps' wings and the frantic thump of her heart, loud in her ears. The wind had teased out her braids and her long hair swirled wildly around her face, whipping into her eyes; her heavy cloak tugged in the cross-winds, threatening to pull her from the saddle. With numb fingers, she fumbled at the clasp and let the storm seize it.
She saw dark shadows below scything through the snow; then, on the far side of the arena, she saw the wind suddenly buffet the injured Knight's Mace into the netting. The mare's shriek pierced the air like a dart. At the same time the snow parted to reveal Midnight Madness far below Quenelda. He was turning towards the sound.
Hold tight, Dancing with Dragons ... ! Two Gulps
and You're Gone folded his wings and dropped like a stone towards the dark dragon below. The sheer speed of their descent punched the breath out of Quenelda's lungs. The wind shrilled in her ears. Snow filled her nostrils and open mouth till she was choking. Intent on his prey, Midnight Madness didn't see them coming until Two Gulps smashed into him, locking his talons on harness and neck.
The shock of the impact nearly unseated Quenelda and rattled her teeth in her head. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth and spots danced in front of her eyes as her dragon drove his enemy relentlessly down towards the floor of the arena.
With Midnight Madness helpless in his grip, Two Gulps drew back his neck for the killing strike. Smoke was pouring from his nostrils, streaking Quenelda's face with soot. As the battledragon's opened his jaws and prepared to flame, Quenelda leaned forward, pulling back on his reins.
No! No! she choked. She had thought to rescue her father, not kill the black dragon, who, she realized, must have been trained to his task through no fault of his own. Don't kill him, Two Gulps! Don't kill him!
Dancing with Dragons? He was confused. How can I defend your father ... ? As he questioned his mistress, his grip on his opponent slackened. Taking advantage, the black dragon rolled to free himself, leaving Two Gulps with a talon-full of saddle and tangled harness. On the far side of the arena, injured and faint from loss of blood, the Earl was still strapped beneath his injured mount. With a powerful flick of his tail, Midnight Madness headed into the storm towards him.
Dancing with Dragons? Two Gulps was baffled. I had him beneath my talons ...
'Oh, no!' Cupping her face in her hands in despair, Quenelda realized what she had just done. By preventing Two Gulps from killing the rogue dragon, she had once more freed him to attack her father. What was she thinking? She had thought battle was glamorous, as if death played no part in it. She had been like a child playing games. To save her father the dragon had to die.
Oh, Two Gulps ...
Letting the harness fall into the netting, Two Gulps and You're Gone turned in hot pursuit.
Root's eyes were streaming in the stinging snow as he scanned the arena. There was a sudden flicker of movement nearby. With his heart in his mouth, he saw Quenelda's cloak flit upwards like a demented bat.
'No!' Fearing she was already injured, maybe even dead, he cried out, fiercely brushing tears from his eyes. 'Go, girl! Go, Chasing the Stars! We're too late!'
Hearing the urgency in his voice, feeling it in the touch of his hands and knees, Chasing the Stars flew like she had never flown before, down and down into the swirling cauldron of snow, where the smell of blood rose up to greet her. A small dragon materialized in front of them, making Root's heart leap into his mouth.
'Get away! Get away you fool!' The steward tried to block his path but a gust of wind took him sideways. 'The dragon's gone rogue!' Dodging the man's outstretched arms, dragon and gnome flew on in pursuit of their friend.
Midnight Madness loomed over the stricken Earl, who had lost consciousness as they tried to pull his leg free from beneath his screaming mount. Half a dozen men-at-arms bravely stood over him, shields and spears raised.
Alighting on the netting, Midnight Madness killed Knight's Mace with a single slash to the throat. Then the scent of the Earl's blood reached him, and he raised his eyes to where Quenelda's father lay helpless. Now nothing stood between the rogue dragon and his prey.
Saliva and blood dripped from his jaws. Kill ... Kill ...
Quenelda and
Two Gulps swept in above her father. Two Gulps! She choked as the dragon beneath them raised his head to strike. Stop him! Stop him!
Two Gulps' wings flapped frantically as he hovered above Midnight Madness. To attack now might also kill the Earl beneath him. With a sound that started in his stomachs and worked its way upwards through the bellows of his great lungs, Two Gulps and You're Gone opened his jaws wide instead and let out a rib-rattling battle challenge.
'Kwwwwaaaakkk!'
The arena vibrated. The Earl flinched at the familiar battlecry and stirred sluggishly back into consciousness.
Root's mare was not battle-hardened.
'Whoa! S-s-steady there, girl.' He tried to keep the wobble out of his own voice as he quietened Chasing the Stars: she was snorting and frothing at the mouth with fear. Her large, sensitive ears lay flat along her neck and her tail was curled in under her belly as she tried to hide in the storm.
'S-s-teady there. Steady, girl.' Root finally managed to bring her under control. 'It – it's going to be all right,' he repeated unconvincingly, as much to himself as to his mount. 'Come on, girl,' he said bravely, coaxing the little dragon forwards. 'We've got to help Quenelda.'
Suddenly Two Gulps' challenge boomed and reverberated around the arena. Unable to resist the primeval roar, Midnight Madness turned from his prey to face the other dragon and return his challenge. 'Yyyaaakkkaaa!'
With a few flaps of his four thickly muscled wings and a push of his powerful hind legs, the black dragon sprang up to attack. Quenelda screamed as Two Gulps feinted sideways, and the Earl looked up with disbelieving eyes.
'Quenelda?'
'Papa! We're coming to save you!'
As Two Gulps let the wind scoop him upwards and away from her father, Quenelda was jubilant. They had succeeded in luring Midnight Madness away! She could see her father's upturned face receding as two soldiers took his weight to help him down the netting towards his waiting household knights and safety.
