Twenty-eighth of Harbinger
Jacque’s day began with the sound of the morning trumpets. He stifled a groan as he sat up in his bunk, looking around as the first bodies began to stir. The fight in the wood, though the source of many rumours, had done nothing to change the routine set by General Valliers. They had not expanded their perimeter, nor had they shifted forces towards the north. The Tiosians had, and a company of their troops was near the burned out remains of the battlefield, watching for more signs of strange activity. Valliers seemed trapped in his own pedantic thinking. It made no sense to Jacque or his section leaders. They had all been involved in exercises that had been planned and executed by Valliers, and he had a brilliant tactical mind. Yet he seemed wedded to his orders now, almost as if peacetime was crippling his thinking.
Jacque reminded himself that these were dangerous thoughts as he pulled on his armour. They weren’t on dawn duty this time, so there was less urgency about their preparations, though they maintained the same level of duty and professionalism. He was proud of each of them, strong young men – female soldiers were rare in the Lustrian army, though not unknown – who had volunteered to serve. They were full of fire after the losses they had suffered in the wood, just the response that Jacque would expect from true soldiers. There had been a few grumbles about Valliers’ refusal to respond to the aggression, but the section leaders had silenced them even as they made the same complaints amongst themselves. The fact that Jacque had almost started a wildfire was never mentioned, though he received more than a few respectful nods from the other officers.
He tightened his belt and slid on his orange-crested helmet. His sword he strapped to his hip, then he stood still as the company fell into position lined up on either side of the barracks. He took a single step to begin his inspection when the door burst open and a young corporal approached. He bowed, then said quietly,
“Sir, General Valliers has called a council of all the captains.”
“When?”
“Right now. He says that it’s urgent, but he did not give me any details.”
Jacque grunted, then gave command over to his deputy before following the corporal outside. Valliers’ quarters were in a separate building that he used as his command centre. Jacque was led to a room dominated by a large table bearing a detailed map of the region. He was the second captain to arrive, with three more to come.
“What’s going on?” he asked the other officer, unsurprisingly the commander of the duty company.
“I have no idea,” the captain admitted. “I was pulled out of inspection and brought here. I’ve seen no sign of the general.”
Jacque turned his attention to the map. Their camp was marked with a silver cube, mirrored on the opposite side of the border by a yellow pyramid. To his surprise, more of the pyramids were positioned along the border towards the north, all in classic defensive positions as if awaiting an invasion. He frowned. Lustria and the Principality had always been at peace. There was no reason for such defensive action.
He looked up as the door opened again and the other captains slowly filed in. It was another few minutes before Valliers came through another door, wiping pastry crumbs from his moustache. He stood at the head of the table and studied the map for a moment, then yawned before speaking.
“This is the latest disposition of Tiosian forces, as reported by our scouts during the night. They are preparing to repulse an attack.” Valliers looked up at the captains. “Early this morning we received a message from their commander. Portals have been opening to our north, and the Tiosians have been attacked. Something is gathering, and our aid has been requested. I have sent word to Torleight to inform them that we will be giving that aid.”
Jacque frowned. “What are we facing, General?”
“I can’t answer that,” Valliers admitted. “It would seem that you would know best. But the Tiosians are nervous. That’s enough to concern me.”
Jacque nodded. “I understand. What’s the plan?”
Valliers planted a finger on the map. “It seems that the portals are centred on this valley, about three miles beyond the wood that Captain Mieur decided to burn down. The Tiosians will cross the border and assemble on the east and north. We will take the south and west. Defensive positions to begin with, but we will send out scouts to assess the situation. Remember, we have no idea what we are dealing with.”
He proceeded to explain the terrain. The ‘valley’ would be fairly unimpressive. Jacque had seen it before. It was a few miles across, and seemed to be little more than a wide depression in the earth. There was a small lake to the north, and a mountain about a mile beyond. There was nothing there to attract any sort of magical portal, unless some mage was having some drunken fun at the armies' expense. Yet something had spooked the Tiosians, enough to prepare for warfare. It made no sense. There was no tactical advantage to using the valley. Jacque forced himself to focus on the deployment order. He didn’t have to understand motivations, he just needed to know his job. His company would be on the western perimeter, taking up position on a set of rolling hills half a mile from the valley. It would take half the day to reach their positions. The baggage train, moving much slower with vital logistical supplies, would take a day at least. Jacque prayed that whatever was brewing in that valley would wait that long.
***
Nothing stirred as Belkai cautiously left the tree line. There was hardly even a breeze on the southern border of Narandir as she made her first step onto the Forsaken Lands, a prairie that separated the Forest from Nimura for about a day’s walk. It had long been abandoned to Narandir’s creatures, and she could sense a group of man-sized spiders about a mile to the east. They were calm, laying their traps for any future prey that wandered along. No unusual activity there, at least. She kept her hands hanging by her sides as she moved further into the open, a longsword strapped to her back over her loose red robes. Davos and Loranna stood behind and to either side of her, hands on the weapons hanging by their hips. There had been no sign of further incursions since Greywall had been captured, but Belkai wasn’t taking any chances. She wanted to see the southern regions herself, certain that she would know if something were amiss. Loranna hung back while Davos came up beside his wife.
“I don’t smell anything unusual for this area,” he whispered. “There’s always a stench of death in the air.”
Belkai nodded absently. “They’re out there, Davos. Somewhere. This doesn’t end with Greywall’s tunnel.”
“But you’ve sensed nothing since,” Davos pointed out. “The Forest is silent.”
Belkai didn’t reply. She knew that he was right, but part of her was insisting that he was wrong. She ran a hand through the tall grass as she walked, smiling as she felt Davos slip his hand into hers.
“In another life, would you have seen me?” she asked quietly. “Would you have noticed me if the circumstances had been different?”
He squeezed her hand. “Belkai, I started falling for you the moment I saw you.”
He looked at her with a cheeky grin. “Maybe I wouldn’t have been so fast if we hadn’t spent an entire week in each other’s pockets.”
Belkai smiled back, but wondered if she would have married him had their lives been different. If they’d met innocently in a tavern, she would have taken him to bed, no doubt about that. But marriage? Yes, she admitted to herself. But like the man said, not as fast.
She stopped and sat in the grass, Davos joining her.
“I wish our lives had been different,” she whispered, and he leaned in close to hear her. “I would have given you a real home. Children. You could have taken me to nice places without having to kill anyone.”
He laughed at that, and kissed her softly on the forehead. “My love, you can’t change the past. But you did give me a home. Among my ancestors, after a fashion. We’ve been to palaces and deserts. We’ve been to hell and back. Together.”
Belkai didn’t stop the tear that rolled down her cheek. “You have suffered so much from me. You deserved a happy life.”
Davos gently cupped her cheek and pulled her face around to look at him. He smiled at her and ran his thumb over her warm skin. She seemed to melt into his hand, as if savouring every atom of his touch. “I am happy, Belkai Androva. More happy than I have ever been. And that’s because of you. The most palatial home in Larton would be worthless without the beautiful southern mage who lives in my heart.”
She looked deep in his eyes, felt his heart racing, and planted her lips on his. He pushed back, meeting her with his own passion. She let him push her back into the dirt, his hands running through her hair. She pushed herself against him, finding peace in his strength.
“We have an audience,” Davos whispered, breaking free. He made no attempt to move off her.
“In another life, I wouldn’t need a damn bodyguard,” Belkai muttered. Davos kissed her, then slowly rose off her.
“You’d be bored in a day,” he said as he stood and looked over at Loranna, who was scanning the distance. Belkai stayed still, studying every inch of Davos. I wish I could have given you another life. She knew it was too late for that. It didn’t change the strange remorse that tugged at her heart. She forced herself to stand, silently cursing the path that she had taken. If I just hadn’t read that damned book. Her constant drive to know the secrets of the universe had driven her to read the forbidden texts held by the Brilhardem, letting that old demon Ashelath into her heart. It had been three years of hell to kill him, and everything since then had been consequences – both good and bad. She smiled at Davos as he walked towards Loranna. He was the opposite of Ashelath – he had seen her at her worst and still loved her, he was sweet and kind and loyal. And I rewarded him with a life of pain and war. She couldn’t go back in time, but she could change her future. She had to find a way to give him the peace that he deserved. One thing at a time, she thought as she followed him. They had other problems to face for now.
“Those spiders seem unsettled,” Loranna called out, and pointed east. It was the same half-dozen spiders that Belkai had sensed earlier. They had abandoned their traps and were spinning around as if trying to locate a threat. Something had spooked them. Without thinking, Belkai began to run towards them. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and could feel something watching them. The spiders went still, rearing up and preparing to strike against an unseen opponent. Belkai felt the earth tremble beneath her, and she lost her footing and fell to the dirt. Davos grabbed her by the arms and lifted her up.
“What is it?” Loranna asked as she reached them both. Before Belkai could answer, she felt something close in. Beneath us.
The ground seemed to explode beneath one of the spiders. As shattered earth flew upwards, Belkai caught a glimpse of reptilian jaws opening wide and snapping shut across the spider’s body. There was a spray of blood, then both were gone underneath a circle of disturbed dirt.
“What the hell was that?” Davos whispered. The remaining spiders scattered, but the earth began to ripple as the attacker charged down the slowest. It erupted from the ground a second later, a long dark brown scaly body like a massive snake that ended in an enlongated snout. It opened its jaws wide, revealing massive serrated teeth that tore the spider in half. It swallowed its prey whole, then snatched up the remaining pieces. It slid backwards into the hole that it had created, and the ground went still. Belkai didn’t dare to move, nor did the others.
“That was a beast of the depths,” Belkai said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Did you see that it didn’t have eyes? It’s from the depths of Nimura, no doubt. That makes it from Falkar’s domain.”
She turned to the others. “It’s gone. But the message is clear. When Nimura comes, they will come from below. And we may not know until it’s too late.”
“Won’t you sense them like last time?” Loranna asked. Belkai shook her head.
“Not if they come from deep enough, and fast enough. If they have more of those serpents, they just might get through without warning.” Belkai shrugged. “There’s only so much that I can sense. But it won’t just be dwarves that we face.”
She turned her eyes to the distant hills of Nimura. “No, the Lord of Shadows marches, and his beasts go with him.”
***
It was two hours after noon as Jacque led his company up the hills that would serve as their new home. There was hardly a tree in sight as they made their way through knee high grass that waved in the strong breeze. In the near distance Jacque could see herds of sheep and cattle grazing, though curiously none seemed willing to approach the valley. The entire area was open, an easily defendable position with no opportunity to approach without being seen. He had four sections under his command, and for today he assembled all of them along the hills to get an understanding of the land and it’s natural rhythms. By nightfall he would cycle them, with two sections resting for ten hours while the others stood guard. They would sleep with weapons by their sides, ready for an attack at any time.
Much to Jacque’s surprise, the valley itself was wrapped in a deep mist. That was unusual for this time of year. There was no telling what was happening down there, or what had made the Tiosians so nervous. Of course, they were on the opposite side of the valley so Jacque had no way of asking them.
Jacque turned as his deputy, Sub-Lieutenant Alec Pontiers, came up beside him. Pontiers came from a wealthy family who had ensured that their eldest son had made officer-grade two years early. Despite the financial aid, he truly was an excellent officer, and Jacque was glad to have him by his side.
“Everyone is in position, sir,” Pontiers announced, looking down at the valley. “Looks pretty miserable down there.”
“So long as we don’t have to send a patrol down there,” Jacque agreed. “I don’t like it.”
Pontiers nodded. “It doesn’t seem natural. Do you think something Arcane is down there?”
“Nothing would surprise me.” Jacque wiped his sleeve across his face. “It is strangely hot.”
“So much for Harbinger,” Pontiers replied. “Nothing about this makes sense.”
“Indeed.” Jacque sighed. “I suppose it’s time to inspect the lines.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“As you say.”
They both froze when they heard a strange hooting sound come from the valley. It sounded as if a gigantic owl had woken in the mist. Pontiers hesitated, but Jacque was already racing back to their positions, calling for the men to ready themselves. Perhaps it was only paranoia that drove him, but he was determined to be ready for whatever would come. The hooting sounded again, followed by a second call set at a slightly higher pitch – a response. Jacque’s soldiers were quickly at the ready, though they traded nervous glances. Any talking stopped as a deafening roar echoed across the hills. Jacque didn’t move a muscle as he studied the mist, waiting to catch a glimpse of whatever was in there. We aren’t prepared for this, he thought angrily. To fight big beasts, like this sounded like, required siege weapons and masses of infantry, not thinly strung out company lines. What had Valliers been thinking?
The mist began to stir as something big moved through it. The upper surface swirled like a rough sea before the creature shot upwards, stopping a few feet above the mist. Jacque stared wide-eyed at the reptilian body and leathery wings, the whole creature easily the length of his entire company strung out. It made another hooting noise as it flapped its wings and kept itself hovering, turning slowly as if it were taking in their positions.
“A damned dragon,” Pontiers whispered. There was at least one more in the valley, Jacque reminded himself, though he didn’t think that they’d be able to kill even one. He had no orders to give to his men. They were armed with swords, spears, and a few bows. There was no battle strategy that didn’t involve simply trying to escape. The dragon huffed, then swooped low, unleashing a blast of fire onto the southern positions as it flew overhead. It roared again, then flew south west. Towards Svaleta, Jacque thought. Beside him, Pontiers took a shaky breath.
“Lieutenant, we may need a better plan.”
***
Farhad’s throne room felt as cold as ice as General Alihad took his place at the massive table beside Marshal Berias. Across from them sat Sashai, the Prophetess, and the young Brilhardem mage, Daria. Alihad was surprised that she hadn’t made her way to her comrades in Narandir, but now that the Prophetess had requested this council, perhaps it was for the best. Farhad sat at the head of the table, picking at a platter of dates and nuts. There was no food on offer to the others gathered.
“Thank you for coming, General,” Siara said, giving a small bow of her head. “This is a matter of utmost urgency.”
“What has happened?” Alihad asked. It did not escape his notice that Farhad did not lead the meeting. Nor did it overly surprised him that Sashai was the one to answer. Despite her youth, she was clearly held in high regard by the Prophetess. In Svaleta, that was an almost divine endorsement.
“I have returned from Narandir with an urgent warning.” Sashai locked eyes first with Farhad, then Alihad. “The Mirzali Compact has been violated. Dwarven forces attempted to breach Narandir’s border as preparation for an assault.”
Alihad felt his veins run cold. What madness was this? “To what purpose? What would they gain from such an act?”
Sashai hesitated, but Daria nodded for her to continue, fully reading her worry. The young handmaiden looked back to Alihad. “There is something in Narandir, an artefact that they want. They have been sent by Falkar and Delorax to obtain it. The Ikari and the Mages’ Orders stand by Belkai Androva. They seek Svaleta’s aid.”
“We have pledged our aid to Narandir and its lord,” Alihad said. “A breach of the Compact will only deepen that resolve.”
“Let us not be too hasty in committing ourselves to open war.” Farhad paused as he chewed on a handful of nuts. Swallowing loudly, he shifted in his chair before continuing. “Such action would cost countless lives. We still do not know if the Aliri will stand by their offer of peace. We cannot defend against them and march on the dwarves.”
“My Lord, not a week ago you pledged our allegiance to Narandir.” It was nothing short of a miracle that Alihad managed to keep his voice level and his manner somewhat humble. “Does our word only stand in times of peace? Is that all our friendship is worth?”
Before Farhad could respond, Siara leaned forward. “Though brash, the general speaks truly. When Daria asked for our aid, we committed ourselves to stand by Belkai. My Temple is committed, and I will allow healers to join Narandir in the event that they are attacked. My Lord, I would urge you to allow your soldiers to do the same. General Alihad can tell you just how powerful an ally you have in Belkai. Whether we acknowledge their kingdom or not, the people of Narandir are the most powerful group on this continent – probably on this world. It would be wise to stand by them.”
“We have only just ended one war with Echtalon’s sacrifice,” Farhad said. “I will not plunge Svaleta into another.”
“You are already at war,” Daria snapped. She rested both hands on the table, her nostrils flared as she seethed with anger. “You have already aided and abetted a woman that Delorax has cursed. Whether you march to her aid or you cower in this palace, the result will be the same. He marks you as his enemy, and he will come against you. I am not a general, but I do know that the best way to defeat a threat is to kill it, not to surrender to it.”
She was cut from the same cloth as Belkai, Alihad realised. With a hundred of these mages, I could conquer the world, he thought, realising a moment later just why Echtalon had expected his own plan to succeed. He looked to Farhad and felt a chill as he recognised the fury in his eyes. Daria was right. Farhad was hiding behind his palace walls, seeking security in his silence even after the bloodbath at the Temple only a stone’s throw away. He glanced at Berias, who gave the slightest of nods. Even Daria, sensing the mix of emotions running through Alihad, did the same. Alihad swallowed nervously, and straightened in his chair.
“My Lord, Daria is correct. We have a part in this war now, and we cannot step back,” he declared. “I cannot allow you to abandon Narandir, not when every kingdom’s fate is at question.”
Farhad’s chair smashed to the ground as he leapt to his feet, his eyes wide with rage. “How dare you, General. You are not king, you are not the lord of Svaleta. I have spoken, and you will not deny me.”
He beckoned at the two royal guards standing by the doors. “Arrest General Alihad immediately.”
Had he been a better man, Alihad thought, he would have realised that the two guards were unfamiliar faces. Indeed, they both had the wearied look of combat veterans, both survivors of the first battle for Larton. They had seen the horrors incited by Farhad’s initial negligence of the borders, and had also witnessed the power of Narandir as it liberated the city. Soldiers do not forget their friends, even if their leaders do.
Farhad froze when he realised that the guards weren’t moving. Slowly turning his gaze back to Alihad, he growled, “Marshal Tao, you will arrest the traitor.”
“I’m afraid I cannot do that,” Berias said quietly. He didn’t move a muscle. “It seems, my Lord, that you are in breach of your office, as determined by myself, the General, and the Prophetess. It would be best to follow General Alihad’s guidance.”
Alihad waved at the guards, and they moved behind Farhad, holding him gently by the arms.
“We have not forgotten Larton or Arborshire, my Lord,” Alihad said, his voice low as he fought the shame of his betrayal. “Nor the lives lost because you refused to heed our warnings about the border. I will not allow more Svaletan lives to be lost because of your complacency.”
Siara stood, straightened her dress, then looked to Farhad with mournful eyes. “It is time to release control, Farhad Orinor.”
Before Farhad could respond, the doors burst open and his steward rushed inside. He froze when he saw his king in custody. When he didn’t speak, Berias rolled his eyes and snapped,
“Speak, steward. This is no place for the mute.”
The steward blinked, but seemed to break out of the spell as he blurted, “We are under attack!”
“Attack from whom?” Alihad asked, not taking his eyes off the former king. The steward shook his head desperately, and Daria moved to his side, putting a hand on his arm. He seemed to calm, thanked her quietly, then took a step forward to speak. He never got the chance.
The ceiling exploded downwards with a thunderous roar. The steward was crushed by a pile of debris, while Daria was thrown aside. Alihad was knocked to the ground beside Farhad, and he swore as dirt and dust rained down upon them. He looked up at the sky, momentarily stunned, and listened to the unearthly roaring as if it were from a dream. A slap across his face from Berias brought him back to reality, and he sat up quickly as he gasped.
“What the hell was that?” he spat. The marshal just shook his head as he moved away to help Sashai and the Prophetess stand. Farhad was dazed, his two guards standing nearby with swords drawn. Alihad heard another explosion, and the palace shook.
“We have to get outside,” he called out. He pointed at Daria’s unmoving figure. “Someone take her.”
One of the guards reacted instantly, grasping his sword in one hand while he threw her over his shoulder. Alihad led the way out of the throne room, finding the palace corridors overrun with panicked faces.
“Make way for the king!”
The chorus sounded, and the corridor quickly cleared, people slow to realise that Farhad was last in the line, and in custody. Another wall behind them shattered as it was struck by a fiery blast. It can’t be, Alihad thought. It’s impossible.
They were nearing the palace doors when a group of guards raced into the passageway and stopped them.
“You can’t go outside, Milords,” the senior officer said, struggling to catch his breath. “It’s a dragon. We’re being attacked by a bloody dragon.”
Alihad would have thought him mad, but what else sent such violent fire? He saw the guards’ gaze shift to Farhad, and quickly barked,
“We have to get out of this place and somewhere safe. Fall in and escort.”
“Sir, we cannot get to the caves. We won’t last that long outside,” the officer warned. A mile outside the city, a series of tunnels had been dug a century ago to provide shelter for royalty in the event of an attack. It was sound strategy when they worried about Aliri invasion – no one had anticipated mythical creatures in the sky.
“We have to try,” Berias called out from the rear of the group. “Protect your king or die trying, but we’re going to the caves.”
The officer nodded, though Alihad could see that he wasn’t convinced. Nonetheless, he turned to his men. “Surround the king. To the tunnels.”
He waved at the doorman, who pulled the doors open before being enveloped in a fiery blast.
“Get moving!” the guard captain yelled as soon as the flames dissipated. They charged outside into a world on fire. Smoke rose from two dozen buildings engulfed in flames. Alihad glanced backwards, shocked to see that half of the palace had collapsed. The Temple was, so far, untouched. Above them an enormous dragon was circling, watching, seemingly hunting for its prey. A group of archers gathered nearby in an open plaza, loosing their shots up at the beast. They were brave men, filled with fervour for their homeland. They paid with their lives, as the dragon swooped down and unleashed a stream of fire that turned them to ash.
Berias saw Alihad pause, and grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t stop! Stop and we’re dead!”
The guard captain knew that they needed to get off the streets, and led them through a house, trying to stay out of the dragon’s sight.
“We need siege weapons,” the captain spat as he glanced out a window to find the dragon. “We cannot pierce that hide.”
“My advice was unheeded,” Alihad said quietly, giving a nod towards Farhad. The captain grunted.
“We’re paying for his aesthetic taste now, General’s”
The ground shook, and the captain jumped backwards. The dragon had landed right outside the house, its belly filling the window. Alihad saw that the captain was right. The leathery skin looked as solid as a house, far too thick for a sword or spear to pierce. He turned around to see Daria on her feet, leaning against a chair for support.
“Can you kill it?” he asked.
Daria shook her head, grimacing in pain. “You need a lot of power. I’m too young, and I’m hurt.”
“Damn.” Alihad glared at Farhad, who stared in horror at the dragon as it moved down the street, its long tail smashing through a house. “This is Delorax’s fury, Farhad. There is no escaping it.”
“We need to go, now,” the captain called. He threw open a side door and they rushed back into the hellscape that the city had become. Nearby, a mother howled over the shattered body of her child, her voice lost in a thousand screams of agony both physical and emotional. Sashai ran to her side and pulled her to her feet.
“I’m sorry, but you need to live,” the handmaiden whispered. She pulled the still-screaming woman away from her son and rejoined the group. She traded a look with the Prophetess, who forced a warm smile despite her fear.
“Run faster!”
Alihad looked up at the captain’s scream, his heart seeming to stop as he saw dragon dropping towards them. He quickened his pace, waiting for the inevitable feeling of the flames washing over him in the brief second it would take for him to be snuffed out of existence. Seconds passed, and he looked back when he realised he was still alive. The dragon was right there, its jaws wide open as it shot by at ground level. The wind from its passing knocked Alihad to the ground, and he watched impotently as it closed its jaws around Farhad and his guard, their blood spraying through the air as it crushed them in an instant. It was gone just as fast, soaring back into the sky.
“Get up!” Daria screamed, and despite her own pain she took Alihad by the hand and hauled him to his feet. “Keep moving!”
The beast was circling back, readying for another strike. They were on the edge of the city now. There was nowhere to hide. Almost as one, the group stopped and looked up at the winged death bearing down on them. So much for a hero’s death, Alihad thought.
The sound of a ram’s horn rising above the din took them all by surprise. It was the dragon that responded first as it let out an earth-shaking roar and broke off its attack as it came to a hover. Shaking uncontrollably, Alihad turned to the countryside. Arrayed before him was an army, rows of cavalry galloping ahead of columns of infantry. The sun glinted off golden armour and spear tips held by the marching horde. Here and there he saw a Svaletan banner, but for the most part they bore the yellow and green flags of the Aliri. A second group of horsemen, not wrapped in armour, followed the cavalry, a dozen figures carrying wooden staffs. How they’d managed to get so close without the dragon seeing was beyond Alihad, but his heart leapt at the unexpected arrival.
“It’s the Herders,” Daria said, her pain evident in her voice as she stood beside Alihad. “The Aliri have heard Belkai’s call.”
Elves or not, Alihad didn’t know if they could stand against the dragon. It recognised the threat, though, and roared again as it dove to meet them. Their distraction successful, the cavalry scattered, avoiding the first few fiery blasts. The dragon switched tactics, swooping now to tear into its foes. Two cavalry weren’t fast enough to escape, and the dragon seized them in its talons, shattering them before throwing them aside. It roared, and prepared to attack the group of unarmoured horsemen. These scattered again, but only in order to encircle their foe. As the dragon faced them, a group of elves stalked closer on foot.
***
General Faelin Limari had never been one to lead from behind. As soon as they had spotted the dragon, she had gathered her officers, as well as the head of the Herder detachment, and outlined a plan of attack. Hers was the most dangerous role, but she’d handpicked the six soldiers who would join her, and she was confident that they could pull it off if they were lucky. It would come down to that luck. It always did.
The dragon picked its target and dove for the Herders, springing their trap. As they called on their magic, a blast of wind threatened to suck Faelin off the ground. It soon created an invisible funnel that caught the dragon off guard and brought it to the ground in the midst of the Herders. They continued to circle, staying just out of range of its jaws. At their command vines grew up from the ground and wrapped around its neck and legs, but it was too powerful for that. This was nature magic, not the greater power of Narandir, and the dragon snapped through the vines as if they were straw. It roared and opened its jaws to unleash its fiery breath, but the ground bucked beneath it and the flame flew harmlessly into the sky, briefly wrapping the funnel in fire before it was extinguished.
It was the distraction that Faelin and her team needed. They came from behind, unseen by the beast as they ran forward wielding pikes and spears. The key was its belly. As Alihad had seen, it was tough and leathery, but still weaker than the scales that covered the rest of the body. The wind was still pulling the dragon down, slowing its movements, but it was lessening as the Herders watched Faelin’s progress. The dragon must have sensed them, and swung its tail, the impact ripping an elf in half. Faelin cursed, then called out the command. The wind lifted, and the dragon reared up as it spun around to face the new threat. The elves took their chance, and six blades slashed against its skin. One spear hit too close to the scales and shattered on impact, the elf losing her balance and stumbling, only to be caught underneath a powerful paw and crushed. Faelin’s pike sank deep into the belly, and she heard the wet smack as it sliced through something vital. She ripped it forward, carving a line until it came free. The dragon shook, sending another elf tumbling away as he lost his grip on his spear. He scrambled to his feet, and a Herder hauled him onto his horse. Faelin kept her attention on the dragon. She hefted the pike again, readied herself to plunge it in again, but was knocked to the ground as the beast spun again. The pike went flying, and Faelin drew her sword and dagger. She took a hold of the broken skin, jamming her dagger home to hold herself steady, then plunged her sword into its belly and began slicing. The dragon roared, shuddered, and slid onto its side. Faelin was knocked loose by the impact, and joined another elf as he leapt on top of the beast. They both ran up its length, but the other soldier was thrown clear by a blow from its leg. Faelin dropped onto its neck and took her sword in both hands. Without hesitation, she took aim and jammed the blade through the dragon’s eye, sinking it to the hilt. The survivors of her team were already opening up the wounds that they had caused, avoiding the dragon’s dying attempts to defend itself as they sought out its organs. There was no sudden, violent spasm to announce the dragon’s death, just a sudden stillness to the struggling body. Faelin pulled her sword free and slid down to the ground. One of the Herders took a cautious step forward and placed his hand against the dragon’s throat. He listened for a moment, then stepped backwards and nodded.
“It’s dead.”
Faelin slumped against the giant corpse and whispered a curse. She’d lost four elves killing the dragon, though she supposed that wasn’t so bad. Svaleta was burning in the distance. Their next task would be to lend their aid, and that was an amusing change of pace. She frowned when she saw the Svaletan General Alihad approaching. First, she’d have to play the diplomat. She would have preferred another dragon.