Dragon Lord

by Dragon Lord (lit)

  The thought was terrifying enough to make her feel weak all over, but she resolutely put it from her mind. There was no point in thinking about it until or unless it became necessary--no point in thinking about it then, if it came to that, or she didn’t have a prayer. She would have to do, not think.

  She waited until they’d almost reached the scaffold. Dragging in a deep breath, she snatched her arm quickly from the guard’s grasp and whirled in almost the same motion. Letting out an ear splitting ‘hi-yah’ like she’d seen the marshal arts people do, she slammed her fist into the man’s nuts with every ounce of power she could sling at him. The blow felt like it broke half the bones in her hand and dislocated her wrist, elbow, and shoulder, but the man let out a roar of pain and doubled over.

  Raina was already halfway to the scaffold by the time he crumpled up, nursing his balls. A yell of alert went up from three or four men as she scrambled under it.

  It was a tight fit and hell trying to crawl with her belly dragging the ground, but she ignored that, ignored the pain in her hand and arm, ignored the fact that she’d lost the blanket and was stark naked. She didn’t pause until she’d covered a good bit ground, but she finally stopped to get her bearings, to gauge how far she was from the sides all around.

  Faces appeared at the edges of the scaffolding.

  They stared at her, trying to figure out how to get to her and get her out.

  Obviously, a quick and relatively painless death wasn’t an option for her or they would’ve just shot her where she was.

  A couple of them got down on their bellies and began trying to wiggle toward her.

  She heard feet tramping on the scaffolding above her and looked up quickly, trying to see if there was anything that looked like a trap door of the sort she’d seen used in hangings. Deciding the scaffold was probably too low for anything like that, she stayed where she was, trying to catch her breath and keep a watch on the men trying to crawl toward her.

  They didn’t have any weapons, but neither did she. The moment the thought occurred to her, however, she began to look around for a loose rock. She found pebbles, nothing big enough to bash a head in, but she scooped up handfuls and began slinging them at the men coming toward her, hoping it would at least slow them down.

  It did. It also pissed them off more than they were already pissed. She grabbed more and slung them harder, inching a little closer to the edge of the cliff as they inched closer to her.

  She ran out of running room a lot faster than she’d thought she would.

  A man ran around to the narrow ledge near the cliff’s edge. As she saw his knees bend, Raina reversed directions and kicked him with both feet as hard as she could. He wobbled and let out a scream as he went over the cliff edge.

  Raina thought for a moment she’d throw up, horrified that she’d shoved the man over the cliff. She realized fairly quickly, though, that it had made the others a lot more cautious about approaching her. Everyone else apparently decided to just wait and let the men crawling toward her get her and drag her out.

  She turned to watch their progress, trying to even her breath. She’d been gasping with fear and exertion until she felt dizzy. She could still hear men walking around on the scaffold above her and realized they were watching and waiting for her to try to dart out.

  The cliff was starting to look better and better, or more accurately, she supposed, less scary, more like a possibility when all other possibilities were quickly narrowing to none. There were probably men waiting to catch her if she popped out even on that side, but she’d run out of rock even to slow the men down and she saw they’d be on her in a matter of minutes.

  She wasn’t going to let them drag her out and do all kinds of horrible things to her. She’d be dead anyway, and the baby would be dead. She had two choices--climb, or die.

  Girding herself, she scanned the edge, trying to see which spot closest to her looked like the best place to go over. Even as she stared at her last, dwindling hope, though, she saw something that stilled the breath in chest--stopped her heart, and she wasn’t certain whether it was more from terror, or sheer awe.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gasping for breath, Simon transferred his sword from his right hand to his left, flexed his aching fingers a few times to relieve some of the ache, and grabbed his water skin, squeezing water over his hot face before he filled his mouth. After swishing it around a moment to relieve the sour taste, he spat and filled his mouth again, drinking sparingly since he knew too much would make him ill. He was too hot from fighting, and too empty of food.

  They’d had four full scale battles and nearly twice that many minor clashes over the past weeks, paying in blood and sweat for every inch of ground they’d taken and everyone, him included, was the next thing to total exhaustion--partly because they rarely managed to stop long enough to fill their bellies or catch more than a few hours of sleep.

  At that, they had been lucky. The first clash might have been disastrous for them, might have been the only battle of the war, except for the fact that nearly a quarter of Jaelen’s army had promptly switched sides. From that moment onward, they had been steadily pressing Jaelen’s rapidly diminishing army back--diminishing almost as rapidly because of desertions and switched loyalties as from those who’d fallen in battle, while his own army had been growing steadily despite their losses.

  Loyalists from the east and west had arrived within a week of the commencement of their campaign. Another group from the north had arrived a week later to fill their ranks--and still they had been at for weeks. Simon chafed at it, but they were virtually at the gates of Draken Fortress now, and Jaelen had been kind enough to come and greet them himself. He would not be forced to chase him down when he had defeated his army.

  Because Jaelen had been unwise enough to trap himself in Draken Fortress.

  “They are forming up for another run at us,” Audric gasped tiredly, dragging his own water skin from his saddle horn to take a few quick gulps.

  Simon nodded, using his arm to wipe his face as he squinted at the army across the plain from them and the dead men that lay between both armies. “We have cut them down to size, though,” he said with satisfaction.

  “But they have managed to keep the pass at their backs,” Jorell muttered in disgust.

  “We will outflank them in the next engage …..” Simon’s voice trailed off as he lifted his head to stare up at Draken Fortress. A wave of cold washed over him as he stared in disbelief at the enormous vid screen Jaelen had had erected near the cliff’s edge.

  They had thought he had done it to taunt them. They had thought it was Jaelen’s clever way of telling them that he was already preparing for their execution. They had thought the screen was his way of insuring that their executions could be clearly seen by the defeated army.

  He saw that they were only partly right. Jaelen had had the scaffold and screen erected for their benefit, to taunt them--taunt him.

  As he watched, feeling cold dread settle through him, disbelief, fear, he saw a guard dragging a half naked, very pregnant woman toward the scaffold--toward the sadistic torture and lingering death he had believed Jaelen intended for them.

  And mayhap that was his plan, but he would see to it that Simon had to watch Raina die first. Just as he had Evangeline.

  For many moments, he could not seem to bring his mind to function. He could only stare, feeling the cold slowly give way to the horror he’d felt while he watched them prepare Evangeline for death, the tortuous sense of helplessness, the sick rage. Not Rainie, he thought. Gods! Not his sweet Rainie! He could not live and bear it!

  Seeing that Simon had gone as still and white as death, Audric lifted his head, as well, and froze, staring in disbelief at the vid, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was watching Raina being dragged to her death. He thought for several moments that he would lose what little he had left in his stomach as his mind refused to give the lie to what he was watching. “Gods! Sweet, merciful gods! Do
not do this!” he whispered.

  “Gods be damned!” Jorell exclaimed, drawn by their rapt attention to look up, too. “That is not … that can not be … Is that Raina?”

  “By the gods it is her!” Elden exclaimed in angry disbelief. “How? How could she be here? How could he have gotten his foul hands on her?”

  Simon abruptly let out a roar that echoed across the valley and bounced from the mountain back at them. Flinging his sword to ground, he leapt after it and began to tear at his clothes. Elden, Jorell, and Audric turned to gape at him.

  “Gods! He has lost his mind!” Audric gasped, struggling to get down from his own naybst even as Jorell and Elden leapt from their mounts.

  Racing around the naybsts to try to restrain him, the three men skidded to a halt abruptly, shocked into a frozen state as they saw that Simon was not Simon anymore.

  “He is morphing,” Audric said in disbelief and dawning awe, “shape changing! By the gods, Simon is morphing!”

  * * * *

  Pain submerged the rage for a time, surpassed it. Simon choked and gasped at the burning fire that flowed over every inch of his skin and seared him all the way to the bone. Gritting his teeth, he fought to focus, calling the change as he had realized long since that he could if he but put his mind to it--his secret weapon, the secret of Draken that he alone knew now. He had planned to call upon it to defeat Jaelen if need be.

  He had not known that he would need it to save his Rainie.

  Fear trickled through the fire and pain and rage as her image filled his mind, and doubts, for he hadn’t succeeded in calling it before--not a complete transformation.

  He thrust the distraction from his mind, focusing every ounce of his will on changing. In much the same way a hypnotist would focus on relaxing each part of the body, he called to each part of his to change, expand, grow--and he felt the change tear through him. Unrestrained by the inhibitors fed to the dragon folk in everything they consumed, he felt his bones crack and reform, felt his skin harden, felt his muscles burn as they bulged outward in thick, ropy cords. He felt his shoulder blades burn like fire as they bulged against the skin of his back, elongating, forming finger-like spines that stretched the thinning skin like the taut sail of a ship. He felt his spine crack, felt the bones expand, forming a hard, jutting ridge from his neck downward to form a long, spiny tail.

  And as he felt the pain begin to flow away, allowing the rage to surge back into him in a hot, molten tide, he looked down at himself and a savage sense of satisfaction filled him as he saw that he’d called forth his dragon form.

  Lifting his head again to Raina, he stared at the men racing around the scaffold in an effort to get to her and the rage threatened to consume him, eating at his mind until he had to struggle to hold on to the man part of himself. Rainie, he thought, mine!

  Sucking in a deep breath, he expelled a death challenge to Jaelen, and with it a wall of fire that seared and charred everything in its path. Unfurling his wings, he stretched them wide, fanned them experimentally a few times and then raced forward, sprang upward, using his great wings to catch the air and lift him higher.

  He glared down at Jaelen’s army as he soared above their heads, feeling the urge to circle around and blast them with his dragon fire, to launch himself at them and tear them limb from limb with his talons, shred them his teeth, and stomp them into dust. Snorting, he lifted his head again.

  Raina. Raina first, he told himself, his woman, his mate--his young.

  His heart and lungs expanded and labored as he fought the currents to climb the walls of the canyon, to climb higher, climb faster. Quickly, he thought, he must move quickly or they would have her.

  And then he burst above the cliff’s edge where the scaffolding was, where his Raina was. Angling his wings, he allowed the air to pass beneath and around them so that he hovered, studying the threat to Raina, assessing how to go about killing those who threatened her without harming her and his child.

  The men atop the cliff froze as he came within their view, gaping at him as if they’d never seen a dragon--dragon men who gaped in terror at their own kind, he thought with grim amusement. He smiled a dragon smile, sucking in a deep breath to burn them to dust.

  And then he saw his Raina--his brave, clever woman--peeking at him from beneath the scaffold, her beautiful green eyes as wide as saucers, and he struggled to tame his dragon mind with his man side.

  Come to me, sweeting, he coaxed, flapping his wings to move closer, holding his arms out to her. Come to me. Rainie.

  She looked at him doubtfully, but he knew she’d heard him in her mind.

  Trust me, Rainie. Come to me. Quickly, beloved.

  “Simon?”

  There was doubt in her voice, but even as he began to think he would have to think of another way to reach her, she scrambled out from under the scaffold and leapt toward him, dove right off the edge of the cliff. His heart seemed to stop in his chest as he swooped to catch her, folding her into his arms and against his horny hide. Sucking in a deep breath then, he expelled a wall of flame at the men who’d had time to recover from their shocked surprise and began to race toward the weaponry that would pose a threat to him.

  He didn’t linger. As soon he’d blasted a swath through them, he peeled away, gliding downward on the air currents he’d had to fight to use to reach her. He could feel her clinging to him, shaking, could feel their child nestled between them.

  His child.

  She had allowed him to send her away and she hadn’t told him.

  Anger rolled through him. He tamped it with an effort, fighting another round with his beast side, reminding himself how fragile she was, how easily he could hurt her. There would be time--now--to tell her how displeased he was that she’d said nothing. Later. Not now.

  “Simon?”

  Yes, beloved. I have you safe.

  The battlefield, he saw as he dropped toward the ground, had become a tangle of clashing bodies as both armies lost all semblance of order. Drawn by the fighting blood raging through him, he swooped low, but he could not attack without killing as many of his own men as he did Jaelen’s.

  “Haig,” Raina said suddenly. “It was Haig that took me! He’s working for that asshole, Jaelen!”

  An unsettling mixture of anger and amusement filled him, anger to learn of Haig’s involvement, and amusement at his Raina. I had begun to suspect it was him, he answered her. I will take care of him when I am done with Jaelen, but for now I must see to your safety.

  Circling the battlefield until he saw Audric, he called to him.

  Audric dispatched the man he was fighting and looked up.

  I need you to protect our lady. I do not dare leave her alone when Jaelen’s men are everywhere. I trust no one but you to protect her.

  Nodding, Audric wrestled his naybst around and fought his way to the rear of the battle. When he’d cleared the melee, he spurred the beast into a gallop.

  Simon circled above him, lifting higher on the air currents until he could see where the men were fighting and finally alit when he’d found a place that seemed safe enough. Crouching low, he settled Raina on her feet with great care, dipping his head to study her carefully for any signs of hurt. I did not hurt you, beloved?

  Cushioned from the roiling emotions at the back of her mind by shock, a sense of being caught up in a dream state, Raina gaped up at the dragon with Simon’s eyes, that spoke inside her mind with Simon’s voice, and shook her head.

  He studied her a moment longer, as if to make certain she wasn’t just telling him that. After a moment, he lifted a hand, as if he would touch her belly and then withdrew it again, curling his long talons inward toward his palm. Mine?

  Raina swallowed with an effort. “You have to ask?”

  He frowned. I want to hear you say it.

  She looked worried and defensive at the same time. “I tried to tell you, but you didn’t seem to want it.”

  He stared at her angrily, uncomfortably, trying to recall any
thing that she’d said that had seemed to indicate she was carrying his child, but he found his beast was at war with his man’s mind. Thoughts were hard. Instincts struggled to take over and his instincts were demanding blood. Impatience moved through him now that he had his woman safe, impatience to deal with the man who’d tried to kill her.

  He snarled at Audric when he finally saw him racing up on his naybst. Stay here with her and keep her safe.

  Without waiting for a response, he lumbered away from the two of them, moving awkwardly on the ground. When he saw he’d put enough distance between himself and them, he launched himself skyward again. He could do nothing for his men on the field without endangering their lives, but he could get to Jaelen.

  * * * *

  The blood lust began to sing in his veins again as Simon reached the battlefield. He circled above the plain, slow circles, peering down at the mass of struggling man forms below him through narrowed eyes, searching hungrily for an opening for vengeance. They had harmed his mate, threatened his child. They would have to pay in blood for that.

  All of them, he thought--all--but Jaelen first.

  Even as he looked up the fortress, however, his man’s mind pricked at him, reminded him that he could not simply yield to the beast. He had to have victory. He had to defeat the army.

  Cutting another slow sweep over the field, he spied the men waiting for the signal to attack the fortress itself.

  Dill stared at him with his mouth at half mast as he settled, hovering just above the ground. “Simon?”

  “Aye,” Simon growled in his rumbling dragon voice. “It is time. Launch the skimmers. We will crush Jaelen’s army between us.”

  Nodding jerkily, Dill whirled to belay the order. The skimmers rose from the ground like a swarm of angry bees, lifting, riding the air currents upward as Simon banked, circling around to lead the way.