King's Dragon: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 2

by William Culbertson

  “The Tharans are moving.” Kahshect’s warning confirmed Dax’s hunch. He passed the word to Doke and Narsus.

  In the early gloom before dawn, Kahshect had flown a quick reconnaissance flight and verified the Tharans’ position. They had kept the drakon out of sight of the city proper. Even if the forces defending Frohliem City knew a dragon was coming, the Tharans would save its appearance until the actual attack to heighten the terror for the defenders.

  Since his flight, Kahshect had kept an eye on the exposed hill where the body of the Tharan troops had spent the night. He was out of sight himself, perched on the peak of the sturdy slate roof of the House of the Goddess just inside the city walls near West Gate. While the dragon could see over the top of the wall from there, his body was hidden. Dax did not want the Tharans to know a draig would be in the battle for the East Landly side.

  “The dragon is coming too, but the lead column will cross the bridge before they bring up the dragon.”

  Dax nodded to himself. “They aren’t sure how many lancers we have or which side of the gully they’re on. They’ll want to secure the bridge, then bring the dragon across.”

  “Just as you thought. They will split their forces.”

  #

  Dax scarcely noticed the acrid odor of the burned area’s ash anymore, but he had a metallic taste in his mouth. The wind sighed as it passed through the long grass at the top of the gully. A dog cardinal gave its distinctive chirping bark. Time stretched out as the moment neared.

  “Bored already?” Kahshect chided.

  Dax smiled to himself. “Where are they?”

  “The main column is approaching the bridge, and the group with the dragon is a little farther back.”

  “How close?”

  “Your archer is about to take his shot.”

  Cife had been a real find. He was not Ugori, but he had been with the Ugori troops as a hunter and scout when Dax had taken over. He was a brute of a man, but his powerful bow and delicate touch brought in as much venison as any four hunters together. Now Dax had given him a special mission. If he could blood the Tharans early, and if the Akomakians made them think Frohliem City’s defenders were fleeing in panic, the Tharans might be lured into coming across the bridge in an undisciplined rush. Dax’s plan did not depend on it, but it would decrease the odds the Tharans would notice anything unusual when they brought the drakon into the trap.

  “There they go.”

  Dax did not need Kahshect’s report, because he heard the pounding thud of boots on the bridge deck. “The Tharans. What are they doing?”

  “Ah! They chase the rabbits.”

  More sound came, this time from the Tharans. They shouted, and their boots rumbled over the ground as they charged after the retreating Akomakians. Suddenly Dax heard the sound he had hoped to hear early in the battle, a great roar from the aroused drakon. He smiled. The Tharans had trained their dragon to be aggressive in battle. An aggressive dragon would be hard to control.

  “The drakon is coming,” Kahshect confirmed.

  “Tell me when he steps onto the bridge.”

  “I will take to the air just before that.”

  He called over to Doke and Narsus. “Dragon’s coming. Ready?”

  “Yahoo!” Doke called back. “Let’s rope us a dragon.”

  “Just be sure to duck down low when the harpoon hits,” reminded Dax. “There will be a big burst of dragon fire.”

  “Right. We’ll be just a couple a earthworms,” came the jaunty reply.

  The three waited, poised for action. Time passed, but Dax could not have said whether it was seconds or minutes. He listened to the rumble of Tharan boots on the bridge. He had no thoughts. The harpoon was pointed in the right direction. He regularly changed his grip on the harpoon to keep his hands limber.

  “It’s time.”

  Dax took a deep breath. He heard the heavy tread of the drakon on the bridge.

  “Namkafnir is behind you,” Kahshect reported just as Dax heard the heavy impact of the dragon landing to his rear.

  Immediately Namkafnir roared a thunderous challenge at the drakon. Dax peeked over the edge berm around the pit where he lay. The drakon was near the east end of the bridge. It seemed to be looking right at him, but Dax knew the beast’s eyes were on Namkafnir. A great wooden yoke dangled from its shoulders. The empty ropes its handlers had used trailed behind. The drakon roared in reply. It dropped its head and charged off the road into the burn—directly toward Dax.

  Another hissing roar split the air from Namkafnir. A wave of heat washed across Dax as Namkafnir sent a burst of dragon fire into the air. The drakon answered with its own deep-pitched bellow. Head down, it charged between the downed trees. The horns pointed directly at Dax. The drakon swayed clumsily from side to side as it ran. Dax kept his eyes above the lip of his shelter and tracked it as it came. The beast slowed its charge to step over the low-angled end of the tree in front of him. Dax lifted the end of the harpoon.

  Suddenly the thick, dark line of the heavy hawser leaped up from the ground. It looked laughably small in front of the charging drakon, but the rope snagged on its horns. The great head jerked backward. Dax swung the harpoon up into the beast’s broad chest. The impact sent a shiver down the shaft. He gripped the weapon desperately, but it still almost jerked out of his hands.

  “Down!” Kahshect’s cry reverberated in Dax’s head. His bondmate’s roar split the air as he landed on the drakon’s back. Dax did not wait. He went to the dirt behind the earthen berm and raised Frohliem’s Shield over his head.

  The world exploded in flames. A blaze of heat seared his arm strapped to the shield. He did not flinch. He dared not move—not even breathe. Dragon fire ravaged the world around him. It was too hot to bear, but to move was to die. Dax stayed in his crouch. His fury rose to meet the pain. Anger filled him. He would live. He must live.

  The fire stopped. Dax raised Frohliem’s Shield a cautious trifle. The drakon reared nearly upright, the harpoon deeply embedded in its chest. The beast reached the end of the harpoon’s tether, and the line snapped. Dax’s left arm burned with pain from the dragon’s fire, but he was on fire with anger. He raised up to a crouch to see better. Kahshect was not on the drakon’s back. The drakon worried at the harpoon in the center of its chest, but as it tugged at it, blood spurted in great gouts from the wound. This time the drakon roared in pain.

  The second harpoon was close at hand. “Again?” Dax asked.

  Kahshect’s reply was immediate. “Again!”

  Dax bent to pick up the harpoon. Every time Frohliem’s Shield bumped against something, it felt like it tore skin from his left arm. He welcomed his dragon rage. He let it fill him. Grasping the second harpoon with his good arm, he hurled himself at the injured beast close in front of him. He rammed the harpoon into the right side of the drakon’s chest. Sensing Kahshect’s action, Dax braced the endplate against the ground just as his bondmate landed on the drakon’s back a second time. The end of the harpoon jumped out of the ground, and the butt plate caught Dax in the chest. The blow hurled him against a nearby tree.

  Fire splashed out of the drakon again. Dax lay crumpled in the open beside the tree, but he pulled Frohliem’s Shield between him and the fire. His rage was so strong he felt nothing but a welcome warmth on his left arm.

  Kahshect roared thunderously from atop the drakon’s back. The drakon whipped its head around to get at its unwelcome rider. Instead of clinging to the drakon’s back, Kahshect followed its head as it turned. The drakon sensed the smaller dragon’s movement. It swung its head back to get at Kahshect, but Kahshect snaked up under its neck and seized hold of the larger dragon’s throat.

  The drakon outsized him, but Kahshect’s teeth were long and sharp. Kahshect’s jaw muscles flexed. Dax watched as the thick skin of the drakon’s throat bent, then broke under the pressure of Kahshect’s teeth. The drakon reared back, shaking its head, trying to break free. Kahshect held on. A stream of blood poured down th
e drakon’s neck and across the wounds on its chest. The drakon reared again, but not as strongly. It tried a third and fourth time to shake Kahshect off. Each time its effort was weaker than the time before. Finally it could no longer lift its head. Slowly it collapsed to the ground.

  The drakon lay still.

  Kahshect held his grip on the drakon’s throat for several minutes before he relaxed. The drakon’s huge head was draped across Kahshect’s body. Kahshect tried to heave himself upright but failed. “I’m caught under here,” the dragon calmly thought to Dax.

  Dax was almost giddy with relief. Breath sawed in and out of his lungs. His dragon anger drained away. Slowly Dax got to his feet and staggered forward toward the two dragons. They lay intertwined in what could have been an affectionate pose if not for the sea of bloody mud surrounding them.

  Dax looked around for danger, but the Tharans had scattered during the fight between the dragons. No one was nearby. He reached the drakon’s head and tried to push it away from Kahshect. His left arm was no use. Pain lanced through his chest as he pushed with his right arm. The massive weight would not budge. “Sorry, but I can’t use both hands.”

  “I’m glad enough to see you still standing.” Kahshect’s reply was relaxed. Dax knew he was trapped but not injured.

  Dax caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned, reaching for his sword, but it was Narsus. “Commander?” the man asked. “Are you injured? Do you need help?”

  Dax exhaled and gestured to where Kahshect lay trapped. “Kahshect needs help getting up.” He looked at Narsus. The man was filthy with ash but appeared unhurt. A large tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a clear path to the man’s chin. Dax had a premonition. “Doke?” he asked, fearful of the answer.

  Narsus shook his head. “He pushed me down and laid on top of me when . . .” He stopped and swallowed. “When the fire came.”

  Dax looked down, unable to meet the hurt in the man’s eyes. “We will honor Doke with the other heroes today.” He patted Narsus on the shoulder with his good hand.

  After a minute, Narsus gave himself a little shake. “Still work to do.” He gestured toward where Kahshect lay beneath the drakon. “Doke brought his axe today. Guess I could use it on that thing.”

  The man went back to where they had sheltered and came back with a large, double-bitted axe. Dax stepped back to give him room. Narsus took the axe to the drakon’s neck with the full swing of a forester. The weapon bit into the drakon’s hide, but it was like the tough bark of a tree. After four strong strokes, Narsus breached its skin. Blood, gore, and dragon flesh began to fly everywhere. Each stroke Narsus took was heavier than the last, as he used the axe to vent his pain on the beast.

  Atch and Onam arrived from their shelter under the bridge just as the drakon’s huge head rolled free. Dax sent Onam to see to Doke while Atch, the bigger of the two, helped Narsus pull the heavy wooden yoke away then push against the stub of neck that was left. They managed to take enough pressure off Kahshect so the dragon could scramble free.

  After Kahshect had freed himself, Narsus continued to stare at the drakon’s corpse. Finally he turned to Dax. “What about you, sir?” he asked. “What can we do?”

  Now that the immediate threat was past, a wave of exhaustion washed over Dax. His left arm hurt so badly he could scarcely think. The injury to his chest made it hard to breathe. He thought of what was yet to come. He managed a small smile at the two men. “We’re still fighting a battle. Our troops need to see Frohliem’s Shield on the field.” He thought a moment. “Can we find a safe place higher up where I can see?”

  The road was the obvious choice, but Tharan troops still streamed across the bridge toward the city. Their dragon was out of action, but they still pressed their attack, because no one had yet changed their orders. “Get on my back,” Kahshect said. “We’ll go up to the road. I’m sure there will be a clear spot for us.”

  Dax could have laughed at the thought of how the appearance of a draig on the road would clear a spot, but he had an immediate problem. “I’m afraid I can’t climb up right now, old friend. I need some help.” He turned to Narsus. “We need to get up to the road. I want to watch the battle, but most of all I need to be seen. I need help to get up the slope.”

  Without the prod of his dragon anger, Dax moved with the feeble, mincing steps of an old man. The only help he could bear was Narsus’s grip on his right hand, pulling him along. Atch went in front, clearing obstacles out of the way of his feet. Kahshect led the way, and the road above cleared like magic. Kahshect roared a challenge and sent a burst of flame at the road for emphasis. The column coming across the bridge slowed to a stop in disorder. Individual Tharans panicked and tried to flee. Those nearer the bridge tried to retreat back across the bridge. Their leaders still pushed them toward the city, and the troops quickly became a struggling mass. Jammed from both directions, Tharan soldiers fell off the bridge to the bottom of the gully in the confusion. The Tharans did not retreat. They fled in panic.

  With help, Dax struggled up to the road. He was out of breath, but he finally had a clear view of the city. Kahshect knelt down. It took all three men’s assistance, but Dax managed to struggle up onto his back. The flesh of Dax’s left arm was welded to Frohliem’s Shield. Hot pain flared from his arm every time the edge of the shield caught against something, but he could not draw a deep breath to scream. When he finally sat atop the dragon, his perch was precarious.

  Narsus pulled out a rag he had used as padding under his breastplate. “Here you go, sir,” he said and rammed it under Dax’s buttocks for support.

  With the men supporting Dax, Kahshect cautiously got to his feet. Now Dax could see the entire field of battle. More importantly, the watchers on the city’s walls could see him atop the dragon. He tried to wave the shield in the air as a signal, but when he tried to raise his arm, the pain overwhelmed him. Desperate, he sobbed in agony. All he could do was waggle the shield back and forth, hoping the watchers would see. A moment later a bright flame and a billow of dark smoke rose from the top of Sunset Tower. He smiled. Markadamous and the Ugori would know they faced a fleeing Tharan force—and no dragon.

  He turned and looked to the northern side of the city. It was time for Commander Baffen and the lancers. The lead horses rode out from where they had been concealed within the cluster of stables and other buildings outside the wall at North Gate. In moments the whole force was visible. They formed up and started to move. East Landly’s Lancers rode toward the Tharans, and they rode with vengeance in their hearts. The drakon was dead. The Tharans, who had slaughtered so many of their comrades with dragon fire, would receive no mercy from the mounted juggernaut bearing down on them.

  The horsemen carried their lances holstered upright as they rode. The rolling carpet of spines drew closer to the Tharans. Three banners fluttered in the air at the front of the company. The two on either side represented the companies originally commanded by Commander Baffen. At the center flew the lancers’ war banner with its crimson lion. Although that banner had fallen in the battle in the Chammanie Valley, Dax had ordered a new one made. What remained of East Landly’s proud lancers rode to war under the color of their traditional battle flag.

  He heard the distant bugle calls sounding over the turmoil of noise in the mass of Tharan troops between Dax and the city. As the lancers approached their foe, their spears swept downward in a wave as if flattened by a gust wind. Every lance pointed toward the Tharans. The wide face of the column narrowed as the riders closed up until they were almost knee to knee. Forty yards out they kicked their mounts into a full gallop. The cloud of dust doubled. They were four strides into their final charge when the thunder of their onslaught reached Dax’s ears.

  The lancers hit the Tharan lines. Four beats later Dax heard the crashing roar of the impact. Bugles sounded, horses shrieked, weapons broke, and men shouted in a cacophony of sound that drowned out thought. Blood and pain, he thought grimly, a business he knew well.

>   The Tharan soldiers had come across the bridge as a disordered mob, but when the lancers charged, they saw their danger. Discipline returned, and they closed ranks to meet the lancers.

  It made no difference. The lancers sliced through the middle of the Tharan troops. The riders scarcely slowed as they rode over the foot soldiers. Their charge drove through the entire Tharan force and out the other side. Commander Baffen reformed his horse companies quickly. Lancers who had broken their long spears on the enemy cast them aside and pulled their short spears from behind their saddles.

  Dax had seen only two horses go down in the charge, and a few horses finished the charge without their riders. Now from the opposite side, the full host of lancers faced back toward the Tharans. The forest of spears pointed to the sky. As one, the lances came down. The notes from the bugle came moments later. Their colors dipped. The horses in the lead reared, and the lancers charged back into the milling Tharans. Mounted death swept back through the crowd of invaders and out the other side.

  The second assault was too much for the Tharans. They broke and ran. Dax watched the lancers rip through the panicked Tharans a third time. Tharans between the lancers and the gully ran toward the bridge in terror. Kahshect sauntered off the road to give them room to retreat, but he was quick to screech a reminder at any who got too close. Those on the opposite side fled toward the city, where Captain Torrage and his Akomakians waited. The Tharans would fight as an unorganized mob rather than as marching ranks of troops behind an oncoming drakon. The Akomakians should be pleased. Dax wiped sweat from his brow. He felt light-headed. He was sliding . . .

  #

  Dax looked up. “Here, Commander,” Narsus said and cradled Dax’s head in his hand. “Drink some of this.” Narsus held a flask to his lips. He was on the ground. He struggled to sit up to see what was happening.