***
Martin’s gauntleted fist squeezed even more tightly around the pommel of his saddle. He took in the flapping of his allied armies banners, but his eyes were on the dragons locked in combat high above.
He could hear orders being barked around him and particularly in the distance. Yet, it would not do for him to speak just yet. His commanders knew their task, and he had his.
Pulling the wooden charm Frances had given to him, Martin thought of a particular ogre. “Goldilora, this is Martin.”
“Goldilora here. Go ahead,” said Timur’s mother.
“Which of the dragons have joined us?” he asked.
“Not sure. I can see three sided with us and Velkandra definitely is against us. If you’re wondering how we can identify them, I don’t think we can.”
“Understood. Thank you.” Martin cut off his call and turned to Timur. “Your Highness, contact Dywnalina and the reserve mage group and put them on sally alert. If the dragons start attacking us we need to counterattack.”
Timur opened his communication mirror. “On it.”
Martin took a breath. “Let’s hope this battleplan of yours works as well as it’s done before, Liz.”
A familiar woman rode toward him, escorted by several knights in surcoats featuring black tower and white field of Conthwaite. “Brother!”
“Mara! Good to see you, but shouldn’t you be with our second division?” Martin asked, clasping his sister’s hand.
Mara grimaced. “That’s the thing. We might have a problem.”
***
Elizabeth set her jaw. How many battles had she’d led? How many times had she put her future on the line? How was it that she still got nerves that shot up her spine and fixed her in place?
Veteran or not, she supposed that it was natural for her to be nervous. This was big and for that reason, she’d gone with a familiar tactic.
“Keep to the plan?” Ayax asked.
“Keep to the plan, but I might deploy Frances and some of our mages early. Got to steady the line and see we can punch through Thorgoth’s center,” said Elizabeth.
Frances frowned. “But what if he is in the center?”
Elizabeth shrugged, her eyes turned to their army’s right flank. “Then we’d still blunt his attack. The question I have is how Ginger’s flank is going to fare.”
“You know she’ll steady them, that’s why you put her there with Leila and the others,” said Jessica.
Elizabeth nodded, even as she watched the armies close. “The cannon are going to fire soon.”
***
Ginger didn’t like riding her horse and towering above so many soldiers. It was liable to get her shot and killed, but she needed to have a good view of her vanguard division.
Unlike the Alavari, the allied army wasn’t charging. They were marching forward, rolling their cannon along at a steady pace. However, the gap was closing fast and Ginger knew it would soon be time.
“Jim, how long until we’re in range?” she snapped.
The Otherworlder mage was using a primitively constructed rangefinder that looked like a binocular that had its glasses set an arms-length apart. He didn’t reply at first, until Ginger barked the request again.
“Twenty minutes! Maybe less. They’re coming pretty fast!”
Ginger pulled her horse’s reins, halting her trot. “Army halt and execute the plan! Start firing the cannon. Mages to the front! Hurry!”
Having ridden with the vanguard division, the Queen of Erisdale could see her army slow to a stop, like a great boulder halting mid-roll. Mages rode to the front through regularly spaced corridors that opened between the different regiments. Ginger could see the distinctive dragon helm of Edana and watched as she raised her staff.
Together, mages began to chant, or speak words. A deep trench formed in front of the army, with the debris and dirt piling up behind them.
Field fortifications were something the Lightning Battalion had used before and put up by Frances on occasion. Today, Elizabeth was having the entire army employ this on a wide scale. As the ditch and wall rose, leaving a few gaps for the cannon, pikemen stepped aside for musketeers to come to the front ranks.
No further orders needed to be given. As dictated, the artillery began to fire at the advancing Alavari. They didn’t even need to use cannon balls. They started with grapeshot.
There were more distant booms and Ginger grimaced.
“Brace yourselves!”
The Alavari cannons at the rear of their army were firing now. They weren’t nearly as accurate but then again, it wasn’t like they needed to aim. Ginger winced as men and women, her subjects, went flying or worse.
“They’ll be in musket range soon,” remarked Lord Tarquin. He was riding beside her, wand in one hand, sword in another, steering his horse with his knees. Ginger hadn’t known he was a mage but was rather glad he was with her now.
“Well we better be ready. As we discussed a damn good chance Thorgoth will head for me,” she said.
Baroness Igraine touched her quiver filled with the special explosive anti-dragon arrows that Anriel had designed. “I’m more concerned about those dragons.”
The battle above was still unfolding as the trio dived and whirled. It wasn’t too dissimilar to cats playing. If the cats were house sized dragons that is. For whatever reason, Telkandra’s children were not breathing fire.
“Keep thinking of solutions. Ah, here come Thorgoth’s troops. Dismount!” She quickly got off her horse and her escorts followed.
Through gaps between heads, she saw the Alavari were lined up. Musketeers jogging in front of the pikemen now raised their guns and fired. Black smoke shrouded the field as across the cavern, the Alavari fired.
Yet, the Allied line let their impromptu wall take the salvo before they stood up and let loose. Ginger couldn’t see the devastation up close but she saw bodies fall.
The two lines continued to exchange fire and the Alavari were getting the far worse of it. The Erisdalians had the support of their field guns and soon, Ginger could see stunned and wounded musketeers running back. She wasn’t sure if it was across her entire vanguard. The smoke filled haze blotted out much of her vision.
“Lord Tarquin shield please.”
The Lord waved his wand, summoning a pink shield in front of Ginger as she remounted. The additional height helped but the musket smoke from both sides was really darn thick. It hung like the sea fog that sometimes gripped Erlenberg. Even through this, she could see flashes of gunfire from the Alavari
Yet, if her eyes weren’t deceiving her, it was slackening off. Turning her head, she looked down the line. The Alavari divisions facing the Lightning Battalion in the allied army’s center and the Lapanterians were still shooting. Cannons still smashed into friendly ranks.
Meanwhile, the cannons that gored her Erisdalians had ceased.
“Order all troops to stand by to receive charge! Pull the mages back!”
Jim and Tarquin turned to her. “What?” stammered Tarquin.
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“You heard me! Pull them back, hurry!”
Tarquin nodded and started barking out orders to his officers. Up and down the ranks she could hear her orders being echoed as bugles and horns sounded to signal the change in formation.
Dragon-helmed Edana rode back, Nicole, Jessica and Leila right behind her. “Mages fall back to queen! Ginger, you need to leave.”
Ginger drew her sword. It wasn’t the same single-edged blade she’d used years ago in Erlenberg, but it was the same type of mass-produced weapon her soldiers had. “Hell no. I’m the Queen of Erisdale. I ain’t leaving my soldiers. Besides, I’ve always wanted to have a little chat with that toxic bastard myself.”
“Your husband would prefer you not to, Your Majesty,” said Tarquin.
Ginger heard a roar from ahead of their vanguard and grimaced. “Too late. Ready yourselves!”
Plunging out of the smoke were a wall of shining steel cuirasses and weapons dulled by gunpowder smoke. Overhead, flashes of magic slammed into the Erisdalian ranks. The troops in red retaliated with sharp volleys of musket-fire and yet the tide of Alavari continued to charge.
And amongst that mass of troops, Ginger could see grey banners with a purple hand holding onto a hammer topped by a crown. It was from this knot of troops that she saw the greatest number of spells that flattened her soldiers.
Holding her breath, Ginger watched as the lines between her army and that of Thorgoth’s met. Her soldiers were still shooting, their pikemen presenting a bristling wall of spearpoints. The ditch, the wall and this hedge halted much of the charge, but there were gaps broken open by mage fire that the Alavari poured into. In particular, Thorgoth’s elite guards were cutting their way to her. Erisdalian regiments were responding to the attack piercing through their center. Musketeers from the different regiments were firing at Thorgoth’s breakthrough.
Yet it almost seemed like her army was moving just a bit slower. The regiments were counterattacking. She could see soldiers charging into engage Thorgoth’s column and the different breaks in the line, but it was not coordinated. The small breakthroughs had been halted, but the major one was continuing on to her position.
“Dammit, I wish Elizabeth wasn’t right,” Ginger hissed.
Leila snorted, smiling weakly. “Hey, we stand a good chance. Frances held him off for like an hour by herself. We got her mom here.”
Edana turned and Ginger could imagine the woman scowling at Leila underneath her dragon-helm. To the queen’s amusement, even though the powerful mage’s expression was hidden, Leila winced.
“I appreciate the attempt to cheer me up, Leila, but we are facing King Thorgoth.” Flashing a smile at the reformed mage, Ginger turned her attention to the crisis. “Jim, get me Frances over here pronto! 32nd Regiment, 40th Regiment, make space! 2nd Cavalry brigade to me!”
Officers barked out orders. The two regiments in front of Ginger started to move, clearing space in front of the queen’s retinue and bodyguards.
“Your Majesty, what are you planning?” Edana asked.
“Something crazy. Edana, Jessica, Leila, Nicole, you need to pin Thorgoth. Leave his guard to me. Oh and Igraine, if it is indeed Thorgoth, get Mara and the second division of the Erisdalians here.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. As for Martin?” Igraine asked.
“He has to stay put until we start breaking the main army. Who knows what tricks Thorgoth has left?” Tearing her eyes away from her friends, Ginger rode to the front of the assembling force of cavalry and mages and turned her back on the enemy.
“Erisdalians, Erisdalians!” she cried, raising. Ginger paused as the soldiers around her stared at her. Her breath caught in her throat as she wondered, what should she say? How would history judge her in this moment years later?
Shaking her head, Ginger took a breath and bellowed. “For our friends and family! Charge!”
Without any further hesitation, the queen of Erisdale turned her horse around and plunged toward Thorgoth. Behind her, her soldiers followed. Lord Tarquin right behind his queen, casting a pink shield to cover her. Edana the Firehand crafted a swirling column of flame so hot Ginger could feel the heat on the back of her neck. Bolts of magic slammed into Thorgoth’s advancing troops from Jessica, Leila and Nicole.
Through the smoke, near the greatest concentration of banners and Alavari Royal Guard, Ginger saw Thorgoth. In full armor, she could only tell that it was him from the crown on his head
A split second later, her horse was slamming a footsoldier aside, her sword smashing down onto some unfortunate Alavari’s head and she was among the enemy, fighting furiously.
***
Morgan swallowed. Grand-aunt? Grandmother? Goldilora was deep in an intense back and forth with who sounded like Martin over their communication devices.
“No, the dragons have no distinct identifying features, Martin, not from this distance!” Goldilora hissed.
“Well we need to figure out a solution! Their battle is getting lower and lower, drifting closer to our armies and if they start breathing fire that’s going to completely disrupt our formations,” said Martin, his voice just ever-so-slightly pitched up.
“We anticipated this could—”
“Yes but we didn’t anticipate the possibility of our troops shooting back on instinct!” Martin exclaimed.
“Oh,” Hattie gasped so quietly that Morgan barely heard.
“That…oh, of course that would happen.” Goldilora closed her eyes and groaned. “Right, I can’t imagine Lakadara and her siblings reacting well to that, but short of flying up there and somehow painting them as friendly, we don’t have any way to do so.”
Morgan’s wings fluttered as she felt an almost itchy sensation worm its way up the small of her back. Stepping aside from Martin and Goldilora’s discussion, the harpy-troll grabbed Hattie’s hand and steered her away from the occupied healer.
“Hattie, how good is your flight spell?” Morgan whispered.
“Quite good. I’d been working on it for some time—Ah.” The half-human frowned, her nose scrunching up. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“What am I thinking?” Morgan asked in as neutral of a tone as she could muster.
Hattie, her tone also very carefully neutral, glanced around, but the mages and soldiers around them were far too busy watching the battle unfold. “Well someone, or someones have to go fly up and mark our allied dragons.”
“And two powerful, flight capable mages who can’t exactly participate directly in a mage on mage duel could do that,” said Morgan.
“It would help if the two mages had experience fighting dragons,” Hattie said as the pair walked as casually as they could, away from the reserve division leaders and the adults.
“I wonder where we could find these mages?” Morgan asked, continuing to walk back toward the city.
The pair glanced over their shoulders. They’d left the reserve mages behind them.
Morgan pursed her lips. “Just to be clear, you are thinking of flying up after Lakadara and turning her and her friendly siblings a different color, something blue or red maybe?”
Hattie nodded. “We probably are only going to be able to make them a dark blue or maroon but yes, that was basically what I was thinking.”
Breaking into a jog, Morgan flapped her wings to get up to speed. “In that case, let’s go before someone figures out we’ve left!”
Hattie on her tail, dark blue wings popping up from behind her, Morgan leapt into the air.
The pair cut through the sky, gaining height as quickly as they could. As they rose towards the ceiling of Kairon-Aoun, a chill ran over their shoulders and down their backs.
The sight of the battle unfolding under them was in some ways worse than the pair had ever expected.
No they couldn’t see people dying. They did however know that as the two massive forces, each made of thousands of individuals locked in combat, smashed into one another, hundreds were dying.
And in the confines of the cavern, the din of the guns, the screams and roars of the soldiers shook the walls.
“I thought it’d look less horrible farther away,” Morgan said.
“Stay focused. We need to hurry. Looks like Thorgoth is trying to break through the Erisdalians,” Hattie said.
“And that is also going to be a problem.” Morgan didn’t need to point, but she couldn’t help but raise her finger at the whirling chaos they were flying into.
For whatever reason, the dragons had not started breathing fire. Instead the serpent-like beings twisted through the air, flying in tighter and tighter circles around one another as close to the cavern ceiling as possible. At times they lashed out at one another with their claws, scraping scales, inflicting minor wounds, but nothing fatal.
“Morgan, do you know why they are staying up so high?” Hattie yelled.
Her golden eyes studying the “I haven’t fought an aerial battle before, but every harpy knows that in an aerial duel, height and speed are essential! Speed is life and height is speed! They’re trying to turn as tightly as they can to get a good angle! Why aren’t they breathing fire, though?”
Hattie grimaced. “Dragons need to take a breath to do so! They’re probably so focused on breathing that they can’t afford to summon their flames. How are we going to tell which one is which, though?”
The pair now hovered, watching the fight. Morgan felt like she wanted to squirm, but it was rather hard to squirm in the air. The dragons hadn’t noticed them yet, but they would soon.
“Morgan, I got an idea.” Hattie pulled out her hand mirror and thought of the dragon whose mother had scarred her not a year ago. “Lakadara!
“Hattie? I’m a little busy now!” Lakadara grunted.
“We’re up here with you! Which of the dragons are you?” Hattie asked.
Lakadara, hissing now, her breath more a series of gasps, somehow managed to convey a fear that made Morgan’s stomach churn. “You ground-pounders are crazy! Get out of here before they notice you!”
That was when one of the smaller dragons broke off and sped towards them, claws outstretched. One of them was broken.
“Oh shit! Lakadara, is the broken-clawed dragon friendly?”
“Yolandra don’t! They’re allies-argh!” Lakdara’s grunt coincided with the two largest dragons slamming into one another, the pair plunged, claws locked, jaws tearing at one another.
“Lakadara!” The smaller dragon turned back, but before she could begin her dive, Morgan swooped in beside her and grabbed one of the spikes on her spine.
“I’m with Lakadara! I’ll help you! Dive now!”
Yolandra blinked, nodded and dove.
“Morgan what are—” Hattie plunged in after her fellow student, cold-blasted fingers fumbling with her mirror. “Goldilora! Tell all friendly forces that Morgan’s flying down with one of our friendly dragons. We’re marking our friendly dragons with dark blue! I repeat, dark blue!”
On the back of the dragon, Morgan somehow managed to keep ahold of her wand and on Yolandra’s spine. Shielding her face with her wing, she had to scream to be heard.
“I’m going to mark you with a spell to let everybody know you’re on our side. Sorry if you turn dark-blue!”
“Just save Lakadara!” Yolandra roared.
Morgan finished casting her spell. To her relief, Yolandra now turned dark blue, but they weren’t nearly out of trouble just yet.
“Which one? I don’t know how to tell dragons apart!” Morgan hissed.
Yolandra growled. “Just hang on then!”