The Hidden worked quickly, taking out the guards that did not run away. When they reached the two constructions, they encountered a sticky situation. One of the Hidden defenders remained alive, his arm around the neck of a teleporter, his sword prepared to plunge deep into her heart. Prigol held up a hand, bringing his men to a stop.
"Come any closer and I'll kill her." Sia struggled in the man's grip, defiance burning in her eyes. Her partner lay dead at her feet, her sister's fate unknown to her.
"Do it!" she screamed, but her defiance turned to a pained gasp when the man shoved the tip of his sword through her skin.
"Wait" Prigol lay down his sword, trying to buy time. "We can talk about this."
"There is nothing to talk about. This one is going to port me where I tell her to. You're not going to follow."
"We can't follow. None of us are porters."
"Good. Then back off. All of you."
"If you kill her, you're stuck, and we'll take you out."
"Not before I take you with me."
"That's fine. I'm ready to die."
The enemy threw Sia aside, her shoulder wrenching from its socket, and she screamed in pain as she hit the ground. The man lunged at Prigol, his sword raised above his head. Prigol's sword lay several feet away from him, too far for him to reach before he was run through. As the man grew close, Prigol braced himself. He knew he would die, but those left would take out the Hidden and bring down the devices. The sword whistled as it swung through the air and Prigol closed his eyes, waiting.
He continued waiting, until he heard the clash of metal on stone and felt something knock into his legs. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his feet. The man lay pressed against his shins, eyes wide in shock. An arrow poked through his skull, the metal tip barely breaking the pale skin. Prigol glanced up at the Hidden standing on the far side of the square, lowering his bow after loosing a successful arrow. Prigol laughed and raised his hand to the man, who returned the salute.
The group set about laying the charges, pulling extras from the bags of dead companions. Eventually all were set and the trays were unloaded. They lit the fuses and sprinted for cover. Once the devices had collapsed and all the dust settled, the Hidden formed up, taking stock of their losses. Of the two dozen Hidden who had entered the city, only ten remained. They had lost all but three of the teleporters, Lia, Sia, and Nekki. Prigol sighed. The losses were heavy, almost unacceptable, but the devices had to be brought down. In that sense, the mission was successful, but Prigol knew he would push to institute a better training program for Hidden who aspired to be fighters.
Chapter 37
Chelandra saw the flare go off that indicated that the anti-dragon devices had been taken down. Up to that point, the dragons had been advancing at a slow, but steady pace, staying just aloft without losing altitude. As soon as the flare burst in the gray sky, they picked up their pace, more than doubling their speed. The ground below swept by swiftly as the men riding on slings below Ychthorn's belly clung to the wet leather. The massive body of dragons would get close to the city, then split into three groups. The large, main group would head straight on to the city's main gates. A smaller group would take and hold the east gate, while the remaining dragons, led by Drok and Kalibus, would hit the palace. The south gate had been taken by a group of Hidden, who were expected to head back there after dismantling the anti-dragon devices and hold it.
Lana leaned forward and placed a bare hand on Thorn's neck. They communicated telepathically, going over the strategy once more. As they approached the city, Lana tensed, her hands began to shake, and her breathing grew tight. She forced herself to relax. They had been through battles before. They had taken out the entire Flametongue slave camp, battled the Hidden on their own turf, and gone head to head with Commander Locke in an air war. Somehow, though, she knew this battle would be different. She felt the fear in the pit of her stomach. Throughout the other battles, her friends had all been nearby, at her side or where she knew they would be. This time, Bolgor and Belli were on some ship out in the middle of the lake behind the palace, Prigol had led a team into the city to bring down the deadly constructions, and only Ychthorn was close to her. Lana's heart clenched as the possibility of losing one or all of her friends invaded her mind for the millionth time and a tear slipped down her cheek to meld with the rain. Clenching her jaw, she forced the evil thought away and stared forward, going over the plan in her mind yet again.
She and Ychthorn would be in the main group, heading dead on to the city. She didn't know what kind of resistance they would meet. The guards had had plenty of time to prepare and she knew they kept a large contingent of soldiers and dragons for the defense of the city. Though the dragon grounds lay outside the walls, it would have taken them mere moments to rouse and saddle each dragon and get them into position once the Gypsies and their hordes were spotted. And a spy had been tasked with making sure the guards saw the dragons in the sky. Several aspects of the attack relied on the guards being distracted by the mass of black encroaching on the city, and all those aspects involved her best friends. She clenched her jaw again and took a deep breath, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.
The city walls were approaching fast. They could see shapes the size of ants milling around at the gates and larger blobs were gathering on either side, outside the walls. Chelandra swallowed. The main group needed to get in close enough to drop the ground troops without endangering them or forcing them to walk too far to engage the enemy. The longer the trek to the front of the city, the more tired they would be when they finally met resistance. As the shapes on the ground grew into distinct human forms, groups of dragons on the left and right sides of the attack force broke off. The larger group on the right made its way out over the lake, preparing for an attack on the palace. The smaller group on the left looped around to come in at the east gate.
Lana and Thorn were stationed in the center of the main body of dragons. Those in the middle bore dozens of Gypsy soldiers hanging in slings below their bellies. They would be protected by the dragons on all sides of them, theoretically, allowing them to get as close to the gates as possible.
Lana leaned over in her saddle to survey the men and women hanging below her. All were dressed head to toe in Gypsy armor, light leather gear that was magically enhanced to offer the fullest protection possible. They carried a variety of weapons. Some carried swords while others clung to maces or pikes.
One larger man had two broadswords strapped on his back, two scimitars hanging from his belt, and daggers shoved in his boots. His expression was grim and determined, not a trace of fear to be seen. A young woman hanging next to him clung to her sling with both hands, her bow swinging from the string looped over her shoulder. She carried two full quivers and a slim sword swung at her side. Fear alternated with resigned determination on the girl's face. The young lady riding on top of the dragon shook her head. She knew many of those she had grown to care for over the past weeks would not return to Atina. She wondered if the young woman would make it and if the man's lack of fear would help or hinder his return from battle.
A horn sounded from the front of the pack and they began to descend toward the city gates. Lana could hear the sounds of the Gypsies below preparing to drop themselves into the unknown, ready to take on the queen's entire military. As they neared the city wall, dragons rose up to meet them, blocking their path. The Gypsies and their dragon partners in the front of the attack formation did not falter. They continued along their path, refusing to yield. Lana was too far back to see much, but she could hear the sounds of battle and the painful screams of dragons and men. The dragons in the middle of the formation continued to descend, getting closer to the ground. Another horn sounded, this one clearer and closer.
"Go go go!" The cry came from Lana's right and she watched as Gypsies on all sides of her released their slings, falling free of the dragons. The slings had been specially designed for this very maneuver. Each Gypsy wore a small pack of
cloth on their shoulders, above any weapons they might carry. A rope hung near the dragon's belly, which the Gypsy in the sling would pull. The rope would release one half of the sling, causing the Gypsy to drop. The pack was attached to the sling and when the Gypsy fell, the leather strap would tear open the pack, releasing the cloth, which bloomed and slowed the Gypsy's decent to earth. Lana watched in awe as white enveloped the sky below her, hundreds of cloths opening to catch the breeze, the Gypsies floating to the ground like feathers on the wind.
Screams broke her from her reverie and she looked to the left. Some enemy dragons and their riders had broken through the initial attackers and were going after the falling Gypsies. She watched in horror as one Gypsy was snatched up in a blue dragon's maw and flung through the air. He smashed into another descending Gypsy and together they tumbled to the earth. Lana strained her eyes to see what became of the pair. The Gypsy grabbed by the dragon did not move, his body broken and bleeding. The other Gypsy crawled from the mess of cloth and blood and pulled her bow from her shoulder, nocking an arrow and releasing it so fast that Lana did not see the arrow until the dragon above screamed in agony.
Further to the left, a dragon who had not yet released all his charges was attacked. The men and women still attached to him attempted to get out of their slings hurriedly, but many of them were torn from their positions by the attacking dragon's claws, only to be flung through the air pell-mell to land heavily on the ground. Lana did not see if any of them rose, as Ychthorn had released all his own riders and threw himself into battle with a ferocity Lana did not expect. Had her legs not been strapped in, she feared she would have been thrown off the speeding dragon, left to plummet to the ground below.
Righting herself after being thrown backward from the force of his forward burst, Lana slipped the bow from her shoulder and nocked it with a poison-tipped arrow. She surveyed the field of battle in front of her, picking out the best target. Off to her left flew a young flamespitter being urged, quite brutally, into battle by the man riding atop his back. The beast was barely out of the training phase, confronted with the biggest assault most dragons had ever seen, and he was shying away from the fight. His master was having none of it, however, and beat the dragon fiercely with a thick, spiked riding crop. Rivulets of blood trickled down the creature's orange hide.
Lana stared in horror for a moment, then she lifted her bow and took aim. Her training with Cerol and his rider had improved her mid-air bow skills immensely. She took a deep breath, held it briefly, then let it out slowly. At the end of her exhale, she released the arrow. She followed the arrow's path as it arced through the air and allowed herself a grim smile as it struck home with near absolute precision. The man aboard the young dragon jerked briefly before slumping over. The poor little creature looked back in confusion and fear as blood began to stream down his sides. Ychthorn made his way toward the frightened beast at Lana's urging. As they neared, he began to shy away, fearing a fight.
"We're not going to hurt you. I promise."
The dragon did not answer and Lana saw tears streaming down his cheeks.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Deke."
"Well, Deke. You are now free. Do you wish to join the battle?"
"I don't want to fight." The response came out in a whiny protest, and the tears fell harder.
"Then you do not have to. Fly low to the ground and make your way to the back of the battle. Just inside the woods, to the right of the path, there is a clearing. There will be Gypsies there, waiting to greet those dragons who are freed and no longer wish to participate in the battle. They will get that awful man off your back and will tend to your wounds."
Lana's breath caught in her throat as Thorn turned quickly to face an incoming attacker.
"Go, now! Before it's too late!"
The young dragon stared at her for a moment before darting toward the forest, dropping below the battle rapidly. She saw a few more arrows fly into the man flopping on his back, the Gypsies toward the back of the pack making sure he was thoroughly dead. Pulling her attention back to the battle at hand, Lana appraised the creature coming toward them at top speed. Lana braced herself for the impact, leaning forward to press herself to Thorn's neck.
She wore the same armor as the Gypsies, lightweight leather, magically enhanced to provide maximum protection. She was covered nearly head to toe, save for gaps along her thighs that allowed her skin to press against Ychthorn's, aiding in instant communication between the two. But no armor was perfect protection against an angry dragon's raking claws, and the attacking beast was spurred on by his master's well-used riding crop. Lana pressed her left cheek to Thorn's neck and closed her eyes. She could not see around his neck in this position and she would not be able to fire at the other dragon's rider. She hated feeling helpless, but she knew Ychthorn would do everything in his power to protect her.
Feeling Thorn rear up mid-flight, she tensed, knowing the clash of dragons was imminent. They met her expectations moments later and she felt more than heard both dragons roar in anger and pain. Lana winced. Thorn had unconsciously told her that the other dragon's claws had met their mark and he was bleeding from shallow wounds on his right arm.
She gripped a leather strap attached to his armor that was added the day before. Cerol's rider had suggested it, as it would allow her to remain flat against Thorn's back no matter which way Thorn turned or how fast he moved. A flopping human was an easy target to a practiced sharpshooter and Lana's safety was important to winning over the citizens of Rona. She and her friends had won much attention and secret celebrity among the downtrodden folks of Layr and her appearance after the battle would do well to win over the majority of the city's inhabitants. She held tight to the leather strap as Thorn lunged at the other dragon again.
Opening her eyes, she saw a Gypsy across the battlefield press his instant release switch on his saddle as his dragon tumbled to the ground. The man's backpack opened and the big white cloth let him float safely to earth. As soon as he landed, he cut away the pack and raced to his dragon's side. She watched him kneel for many moments before he rose, anger and hatred sitting heavy on his face. Pulling his sword from his scabbard, he raced toward the battle raging up near the gates, throwing himself into the fray.
Lana lost the man as Thorn turned wildly, raking his claws across the beast's chest. They sliced through the leather straps holding the saddle and the man on his back tumbled to the ground. The queen's air forces did not wear the cloth backpacks that Gypsies wore and his screams were silenced instantly when he crunched against the rocky ground. His master gone, the dragon fighting Thorn broke off his attack and pulled back, unsure of what to do. He looked around wildly, searching for his master's commander. Cerol flew up to the creature and gripped his neck.
"Surrender in the name of the Coalition of Man and Beast," he said, his voice flowing with power and assurance.
Like the young orange dragon before him, this dragon only stared, unsure of what to say.
"You will not be harmed if you surrender willingly." Cerol jerked his head toward the man laying crumpled on the ground and the other dragon followed his eyes to his former master. "We are not like them. Dragons are not meant to be slaves. You deserve freedom."
The captured dragon shrugged, a sign of submission, and the large golden beast led him away toward the back of the battlefield, waving at Lana and Thorn as he went. A quick glance around told the same story throughout the area. Several dozen dragons who wanted to help but did not want to fight had been commissioned to aid in captures and surrenders. Lana watched as many of the queen's dragons were being led off the field by these dragons, who were marked with a dark red strip of paint running down either side of their neck.
Lana watched as Cerol led Thorn's attacker past another of the queen's dragons. The queen's dragon, defying her master's commands, paused and asked the dragon where he was going. When her compatriot explained briefly, she turned to look at her master, who was whippi
ng her fiercely. His hand paused in mid-air as she locked her gaze on him, daring him to hit her one more time. He snorted and brought the cane down, but before it could connect, his arm was ripped from his body by the newly freed dragon. The female dragon nodded a thanks at him before craning her neck around to tear the screaming man from her back. She crunched once, then spit him to the ground. All three dragons made their way to the safe zone at the back of the battlefield.
A sharp pain shot through Chelandra's shoulder. Ychthorn, feeling Lana's pain, pulled out of the attack he was preparing for and looked back, concern on his face. Sticking out of Lana's shoulder was an arrow. It had slipped between the seams of the armor at the shoulder and lodged just below the skin. For a split second, Lana feared it was one of the Gypsies poison-tipped arrows, but a quick inspection proved that it was not of Gypsy make.
As Lana worked out how to remove the arrow without causing more pain, Thorn estimated the direction the arrow came from and began searching for the culprit. It didn't take him long to find the man responsible. Not far off their right flank hovered a soldier on an aqua blue dragon, smirks apparent on the faces of both the man and the dragon beneath him. Thorn shot toward the pair, the smirks quickly disappearing into brief alarm before a vicious smile spread across the man's face. He tapped the dragon's neck and pointed his bow toward Thorn and Lana. The dragon nodded and shot toward Thorn at top speed.
The two dragons collided just as Lana grasped the arrow and the sudden clash tore the barbed head from her flesh. She screamed in pain and threw the arrow in the direction of the man, who was nocking another arrow to fire in her direction. His cruel expression angered the young woman and she whipped her bow from her back. The man saw the determination on her face and quickly took aim, loosing the arrow just as the two dragons took another pass at each other. His shot went wide and he struggled to pull another arrow from his quiver.
Blood of the Dragon: An NA Epic Fantasy Page 21
