by Bryan Davis
The dragons lifted off the ground, two without riders, one reddish and one beige. Edward blew a shrill whistle through his fingers and waved his arm. “Thigocia!” he shouted. “Over here!”
The beige dragon circled back and grabbed Edward right off his horse with her tail. With a quick flip, she slung him into the air, then dove underneath and caught him on her back, wedging him perfectly between two spines. Edward grasped the spine in front of him and hung on, unable to breathe.
Arthur shouted into the sky through his cupped hands. “That’ll teach you to call for a dragon as you would a dog!”
Edward exhaled and shouted forward. “I apologize, dragoness. I am not aware of every aspect of dragon protocol.”
A sly grin broke through on Thigocia’s draconic lips. “Apology accepted, but it was necessary to give you an in-flight mounting lesson before the battle begins. Makaidos already gave Newman his.”
“Really? How did he do?”
“Except for a spine ripping the back of his trousers, he did quite well.”
As the troops marched closer to Weary Hill, the dragons rose toward the dark clouds, shielding themselves from sight in the swirling rain. Flying low enough to pierce the mists with their eyebeams, they guarded the right flank while staying out of sight.
Edward blinked at the sharp, stinging raindrops. “What do you see?” he shouted.
Thigocia aimed her beams at the ground. “Merlin and Barlow are charging. They must have spotted the enemy.”
Edward mopped his brow with his sleeve, but it didn’t help much. “Is anyone coming on the right? Do you sense anything at all?”
“No sign of them. The enemy seems concentrated on the direct attack.”
Edward pointed downward. “Then let’s help on the front lines!”
Thigocia turned off her eyebeams. “Makaidos? Did you hear the young knight?”
“Yes,” Makaidos replied. “You and I will join the battle, along with Legossi, Valcor, and Hartanna. Clefspeare will stay and guard the flank.” He swung his head back toward the riderless dragon. “Is that well with you?”
Clefspeare nodded. “I am at your service, my king.”
As the five dragons glided toward the lowest layer of clouds, Thigocia drifted closer to Hartanna. “You know Clefspeare better than I do. Can he handle the flank by himself?”
Hartanna’s ears twitched rapidly. “No one really knows him, Mother, but they say he is the greatest warrior since Arramos himself.”
“Why does he refuse a rider?”
“I asked him once,” Hartanna replied. “He says he works best alone, and with his dangerous maneuvers, he would prefer not to bring peril to a human.”
“I see,” Thigocia said, blinking away the droplets. “I have more questions, but that is enough information for now.”
Makaidos surged to the front of the line. “Form an arrowhead!”
The dragons fanned into formation, Makaidos at the tip and two dragons trailing him on each side.
Thigocia flew just behind her mate’s left wing, and Edward clutched her spine until his knuckles turned white. Chill bumps covered his arms, and his biceps twitched. The battle was about to begin.
Makaidos nodded at Hartanna’s rider, Dirk, a bearded man with his helmet pulled low on his wrinkled brow. “The command is yours, my good knight.”
Dirk raised his age-spotted hand. “Valcor!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Take the enemy on the left and thin their ranks. Makaidos, go for the center. Hartanna and I will blast the right. Legossi, run a torch on the back lines to prevent retreat. We will not let a single child killer escape. We will fly over the enemy in a continually cycling column, making sure that one or more of us faces their troops at all times, thereby guarding each other’s blind sides.”
Dirk stared directly at Edward and his dragon. “Thigocia, I have heard that you are a healer. Guard the king at all costs. Let him fight bravely, but if he is wounded, you must be there to heal him.”
“I have never healed a human,” Thigocia said, “but I will do what I can.”
“All dragons!” Dirk continued. “Listen to your riders! They know the wiles of men better than you do.”
Dirk lowered his hand and pointed toward the ground. Gradually pulling in their wings, the dragons angled downward, picking up speed with every second. Edward hung on to Thigocia’s spine, but seeing Dirk clenching both fists prompted him to let go.
The rushing wind and approaching shouts of battle pumped energy through Edward’s muscles. His heart beating wildly, he clenched his own fists, an unbidden battle cry bursting from his lips. As they dropped into a near vertical dive, he grasped the hilt of his sword.
While the other dragons dove toward their assigned positions, Thigocia headed straight for the battle line. Merlin and Barlow fought back to back, each man wielding his sword with perfect precision. Nearby, Arthur slashed Excalibur into a crowd of men. Each time the blade struck a shield, the silver edge seemed to flash and spark, slicing through metal and leather and cutting flesh and bone and leveling savage after savage.
Thigocia spewed a stream of bluish white fire, making a wide semicircle around the king. Dozens of enemy soldiers erupted in flames, flailing their arms as they tried to run for safety. With rain continuing to beat down, steam rose from every burning soldier, and a stiff breeze blew the vapor throughout their ranks, creating a foggy quagmire as their feet slogged through the mud. A fifth of the enemy troops stampeded back, scrambling over the slippery terrain, but they ran right into a wall of fire ignited by Legossi and the other dragons.
Edward patted Thigocia’s neck. “Well done!” he shouted. “This will be easy!”
“Too easy. I sense grave danger. Something sinister is afoot.” Thigocia landed in the space she had cleared and slapped two of the remaining savages with her tail, sending them flying. With her eyes flashing, she stormed in front of the king, her wings fully stretched as she spewed fire in a long arc toward the enemy’s retreating lines.
Arthur thrust Excalibur’s blade through a soldier’s shield and into his chest, then pulled it out. The bloodstained blade glowed, and as he raised it high, the barbarian’s blood sizzled and burned away. Arthur lowered the sword and gazed at it in wonder. “Merlin!” he called. “Do you know anything about this weapon?”
Merlin ran to the king’s side and grasped his wrist. “This is Chereb!” he exclaimed. “The sword of Eden!”
Arthur turned the hilt, showing the prophet the other side of the blade. “The Lady of the Lake named it Excalibur, and it seems to breathe fire when I call upon its energy, like a dragon made of polished steel.”
Thigocia extended her neck toward the king. “Your Majesty! Something wicked is coming, a horrible disaster looming in my mind like the rising of the devil himself!”
Arthur waved his hand toward the retreating troops as they burned in the dragons’ fire. “But we are winning handily! Your winged wonders are cleaning up every last savage.”
Merlin pointed his sword at the boiling sky. “Three dragons!” he shouted.
Edward looked up and spotted two red males and a smaller tawny female diving toward them. “More help?” he asked.
“No!” Thigocia yanked Edward off her back with her tail and dropped him next to Merlin and the king. Stretching her wings, she wrapped all three into a tight huddle and ducked her own head underneath. A wall of flames screamed past them, and the sound of beating wings whipped by, followed by a stiff breeze.
Thigocia lifted her wings and jumped into the air. “It’s Arramos! And he has Goliath and Roxil with him!” She circled over the trio of humans, shooting balls of flame at the huge red dragon as he glided high above. Goliath and Roxil beat their wings in sync with Arramos, one on each side, and easily dodged Thigocia’s volleys. They flew in a wide circle, Arramos taking the lead as they began to form an attack arrow.
Sir Devin rushed toward the king, Palin running at his side. B
oth men raised their swords. “The dragons have deceived us!” Devin shouted. “They have concocted this plan to expose us and kill us all!”
“Nonsense!” Arthur said. “They have destroyed our enemies.”
Devin pointed at the charred bodies in the battlefield. “They don’t care what colors a human victim wears as long as they end up in black shrouds!”
Thigocia landed and trumpeted a loud note. “Arramos is not here to kill humans,” she shouted, “he is trying to draw Makaidos into battle.”
“If that’s true,” Devin said, “then why doesn’t Makaidos respond?”
White-hot sparks flew from Thigocia’s nostrils. “Because he is busy making sure your worthless backside remains intact!”
Arramos and company angled toward them, picking up speed with every second. Thigocia sent a warning fireball that splashed off Arramos’s neck but did nothing to alter his course.
“Everyone under my wings again!” Thigocia shouted, but before they could duck for cover, another red dragon zoomed into view.
Edward thrust his finger upward. “It’s Clefspeare!”
Clefspeare smashed into Arramos, chest to chest, sending the elder dragon tumbling through the air. As Clefspeare passed by the other two attackers, he snaked his tail around Goliath’s neck, then, taking a sharp turn, slung his body right into Roxil, collapsing her wings. Both dragons crash-landed in a deserted portion of the battlefield but scrambled quickly to their haunches, shaking off the mud as they made ready to fly again.
Merlin held up his closed fist. “Clefspeare!” he shouted. “I have dragon’s bane. Keep Arramos away, and I will fend off the other two.”
Without a word, Clefspeare flew in the direction he had thrown Arramos. The fierce red dragon had righted himself and was heading back toward the king. Clefspeare, his claws extended and teeth bared, crashed into Arramos again. Both dragons fell toward the ground, biting and slashing each other. At the last second, Clefspeare fanned his wings, threw Arramos into the mud, and, with a mighty flap, ascended again. Making a sharp, one-eighty turn, he dove toward his fallen opponent, shooting a blinding torrent of flames, but Arramos leaped to the side and launched into the air. He zoomed away with Clefspeare in pursuit, and the two faded into the rainy backdrop.
Goliath, now skimming the clouds again with Roxil, swooped toward the king and smacked into Thigocia, knocking her to the ground. Roxil followed with a stream of flames, but King Arthur blocked it with his shield just before the torrent could slam into his face.
Merlin held up his fist, opening his fingers slightly. Goliath and Roxil faltered, their wings out of sync. As they flew away, they alternately rose and dipped in the gusty winds. Merlin closed his fingers again.
Thigocia pushed her wings against the mud and righted herself. “I saw a new horde of Saxons swarming on the hill! They are coming this way!”
Arthur shouted, “Make your defenses!” The king’s soldiers formed a wall of sword-wielding men and a cadre of bowmen behind them, their arrows bending their strings.
“Edward!” Thigocia shouted, lowering her head. “Mount! We will thin their ranks!”
As Edward climbed into position, Sir Devin stalked toward them and raised his sword. “This is more dragon treachery! The barbarians waited for their dragon allies to join them before they brought their second wave.”
Merlin leaped in front of Devin and blocked the knight’s thrust with his own sword. “Don’t be a fool!” Merlin grunted as he pushed against the crossed blades. “Thigocia is no friend of Goliath or Roxil. She was a victim of their attack!”
“You fell for their ploy!” Devin growled. “She spawned the scaly beasts! They wouldn’t kill their own mother!”
King Arthur lifted the flashing Excalibur high. “Devin! I command you to desist!”
Devin scowled at the king and backed away from Merlin, muttering something unintelligible.
Barlow’s voice rose above the clattering rain. “Bowmen! Pierce those devils!” A hundred arrows shot into the downpour. Edward raised his sword and stretched to see over the wall of men. The savages were closing in, some dropping into the mud as arrows rained on their advance. Shifting his gaze to the sky, he counted three dragons sweeping the enemy with waves of fire, but he couldn’t tell who they were.
Thunder boomed overhead. Rain pounded even harder. Suddenly, a spear flew in, striking Edward in the chest. He fell off Thigocia’s back, but she caught him in her wing and laid him gently on the ground. As he writhed in the mud, a wave of barbarians slammed into the front lines. Arthur, Merlin, Devin, and Palin charged into the fray, Excalibur flashing in the king’s grip.
Stretching her wings, Thigocia created a shield over Edward. He grimaced at her, pain crushing his words. “Break . . . break the spear. I must . . . fight.”
“You cannot survive this wound,” Thigocia said. “It has likely pierced your lungs.”
Edward felt blood seeping into his throat. “Let me die . . . fighting . . . not wallowing in the mud.” He struggled to his knees, feeling for the spear at his back.
“The point protrudes several inches.” Thigocia laid her tail on his shoulder. “Stay as still as you can.”
With Edward holding the front end, Thigocia chomped the shaft near the point and broke it into splinters.
Edward clenched his teeth. “Now break the other end.”
Thigocia clamped her jaws around the shaft, but as she crunched the wood, Edward collapsed to the mud, faceup. The spear broke somewhere inside his body and part of it jerked out. Blood flowed freely from his chest. He arched his back, and his arms and legs stiffened.
Thigocia wrapped her wings around him and pulled him to his feet. “Battle or no battle, I will not let you die in the mud. I can try to heal you, but you have been mortally wounded. First, I have to find a dragon to breathe fire on me.”
Edward stuck his head through a gap in the dragon’s wings, but darkness shrouded the battlefield. Everything moved slowly, like a somber dance in a house of mourning. As King Arthur’s sword swept from side to side, one barbarian after another fell to his blows. Suddenly, the blade flashed with radiance as if struck by a bolt of lightning, but instead of knocking the king flat, the bolt seemed to penetrate his body, lighting him as bright as the sun itself. A brilliant beam shot out of Excalibur’s tip, and as Arthur staggered backwards, he lowered the sword. The beam slashed the ground, sending a streak of lightning along the muddy field. The glittering streak shot into Thigocia, creating a shimmering white halo all around her.
A sizzling sensation burned into Edward’s skin. Everything in his vision flashed so brightly, he couldn’t see at all. Blistering heat surged into his lungs, making them feel on fire. Seconds later, the light flickered off. His pain vanished.
Fighting against the dragon’s leathery wings, he bounded through the opening, then laid his palm on his chest and took a deep breath. Blood dampened his fingers, but not even a twinge of pain hampered his lungs. Even the shaft of the spear had disintegrated. He grabbed his sword and gazed at Thigocia. “What happened?”
“I have no idea.” Thigocia lowered her head and sniffed the hole in his vest. “A miracle?”
“I’ll have to accept that. No time for guessing.”
Edward saluted her and rushed into the battle. As he raised his shield, he heard the dragon call from behind him, “Praise the Maker!” An arrow thumped into his shield, then another. He glanced back at Thigocia and nodded. She nodded in return.
The king swung Excalibur’s beam back into the horde. The savages in its path disappeared as if disintegrated by its energy. Arthur swept the enemy’s lines. Dozens of men blew apart in splashes of sparks, their swords, shields, and helmets falling to the spots where they once stood. The Saxons began fleeing once again, many slipping and falling under the tide of trampling feet. Arthur drew the sword back, and the beam disappeared.
Goliath plummeted from the sky. Makaidos zoomed behind him, snapping at
his tail. With his wings stretching wide, Goliath leveled his flight near the ground and reached down with expanded claws, seizing Arthur’s clothes and jerking him upward. As the king rose into the air, his shield went flying and Excalibur fell to the ground. Arthur’s bowmen turned their aim toward the sky, keeping their arrows drawn back as they awaited orders.
Scattering water droplets from his wings, Makaidos landed next to Merlin, breathless. “Do not think . . . for a moment . . . that Goliath fears killing the king. We must . . . take great care.” The other dragons, Hartanna, Valcor, and Legossi, settled in next to their king. Clefspeare, however, was still nowhere in sight.
Goliath landed in a nearby patch of grass and threw Arthur against a large stone. Trumpeting a great roar, he planted his claws on the king’s limp body and shouted at the soldiers, “Are you willing to bargain in order to rescue the human king? He is alive, but if you refuse to make a deal with me, he will be dead before sundown.”
Roxil landed close to Goliath, but he pushed her away with his tail.
Merlin reached for Excalibur. The moment he snatched it up, the beam returned to the blade and shot into the sky. He angled the light toward Goliath, but when the dragon raised his claws to strike the king, Merlin pulled it back. “With Arthur in his clutches,” he said, “I dare not strike the dragon.”
Sir Devin drew his sword. “I will give that demon an answer he will never forget!”
Merlin pressed his forearm against Devin’s chest, stopping him. He then stepped to the front of the group and faced Goliath. “What would a rebellious dragon want from the two-legged creatures he despises?”
Goliath spewed a stream of fire into the air and let the sparks sizzle for a moment as they fell to the grass. He laughed and stretched out his reply in a low drone. “War.”
“Between humans and dragons?” Merlin asked.
“You catch on quickly for a human, but I do not make agreements with the lying sons of Noah. I am addressing the dragons, those who follow the so-called king of the dragons. I want them to break their alliance with the humans, so that I and my followers can freely wage war against the stupid bipeds. If they give me their word, that will be all I need.”