"What about them?" snapped Tate. "They're supposed to stay out of it, if that's what you're asking. Khoal said he'd be able to delay the other two evil dragons from joining the fight, if not keep them out of it entirely."
"Let's hope we can trust the word of a traitor."
Tate heaved a sigh. "Look, I know what you think of my arrangement with the black dragons. Let me assure you, it's not a situation that I would have initiated. The dragon came to me, not I to him. How could I reject an opportunity to dis shy;able the Black Wing, the center of evil in this region? Isn't that why we came to the frontier?"
Wolter extended his hand as if to deflect an angry response. "How do you know if s not a trap?"
"I consulted Wallens," said Tate. The lord knight beckoned to a soldier with bookish eyes and a solemn face. "Tell Sir Wolter what you've read in the ancient annals, what the order knows about the nature of black dragons."
Sir Geoffrey Wallens lowered the hand from his brow to his saddle pommel, pausing briefly on the way to stroke his thin brown mustache. "Black dragons are driven by greed, self-aggrandizement, and self-preservation, mostly in that order. They are evil, unpredictable, and unreliable. Unfortu shy;nately, sir, they are quite capable of breaking their bond to us, as they have to their own kind."
Scowling, Tate waved the too-honest knight away. He gave the grim-faced elder knight an earnest look and directed his gaze to the crumbling walls. "Come on, Wolter. If this is a trap, if s not a very good one. Why didn't they repair the walls? The dragon spoke truthfully about Shalimsha's layout-mountains with dragon lairs to the west, the north wall easily stormed. The chaos inside the compound looks genuine to me, too." His brown eyes scanned the mauve, early-morning sky. "I see no signs of dragons perched for attack, either."
Sighing, Wolter peered about to make sure that only Tate could hear him. "Look, lad," he whispered, "I understand you think you're doing what you must." He shook his hel-meted head. "Call me old-fashioned, but it just feels wrong to make a pact with creatures renowned for evil. I'm certain the Council of Knights wouldn't approve."
Tate laughed without humor. "They scarcely approve of me!" He grew suddenly serious. "I truly believe there's no dishonor for the knighthood in this. I've prayed for months to Kiri-Jolith, and I have sensed no displeasure for the plan."
Tugging up his gauntlets, Wolter managed a rueful smile. "If you've spoken to your god, you shouldn't have to answer to a crotchety old knight like me." He clapped his young friend on the shoulder. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got some knights to assemble." Wolter's well-worn plate armor disappeared in the throng of soldiers.
Tate's eyes followed him fondly, then slipped past to eval shy;uate the inside of the fortress. With any luck, they would soon be fighting there. He was surprised at how similar the layout of Shalimsha Tower was to Lamesh. There was no central keep here, either. Instead, the few buildings that had been repaired lined the inside walls, with a courtyard in the center. Must be a regional thing, Tate thought, since keeps were very common in Solamnia. He could see why the open courtyard would be an advantage for an army with dragons; a keep in the center of the courtyard would make it difficult for dragons to land.
Two years had passed since the fire had damaged Lamesh and destroyed part of the garrison's stockpiled grain. Tate had vowed by the end of that lean, hard winter to never eat another potato. He and his men had worked tirelessly to rebuild the burned sections so that they were better than before. News of their progress had spread to Solamnia; in the spring, fifty-two more young knights, eager for the chance for quick advancement, made their way to the frontier at Lamesh, further speeding up the reconstruction. That reinforcement also strengthened fate's troops to the point where he could field an army and still leave behind thirty men-at-arms with a handful of knights to defend Lamesh Castle. That was a small garrison, but the castle was strong and well situated.
Tate had been stunned, impressed despite himself, when he met his first dragon, the one who called himself Khoal. He'd been poring over some account ledgers on an early spring day, a tedious task he despised, when his adjutant ushered in a glassy-eyed farmer. Expecting to hear some complaint about the taxes, the lord knight was taken aback, to put it mildly, when the man calmly told him that he'd just met a black dragon.
"He was as nice as any creature you'd like to meet, and pretty. He wants you to meet him in the hills at sundown."
Back in Solamnia, Tate had first heard the rumors of drag shy;ons returning. At Lamesh, he'd even spoken to several eye shy;witnesses who claimed to have seen black dragons flying in the area, and others who had encountered physical evidence on the ground. Obviously, the creatures were not allies of Good. The farmer showed definite signs of having been mag shy;ically charmed, for no one would call the first dragon he met, particularly a black one, 'nice.' Aside from being surprised, Tate was certainly intrigued. "Why does this dragon wish to meet with me?"
"He said he has a business proposition."
Tate had plied the farmer for more information; the man had favorable, but not particularly informative things to say about the creature who had bewitched him. Though Wolter strongly disapproved, Tate rode into the mountains at the appointed time with two other knights. They dressed in the full ceremonial armor and regalia of their order, as they would on any other diplomatic mission. His primary motiva shy;tion had been curiosity.
With the farmer as a guide, they had no difficulty getting to the rendezvous point. The spot was a shallow valley at the foot of the mountains. The farmer indicated that only Tate was to approach closer than a hundred paces, and that he should leave his horse behind. Tate agreed as a practical mat shy;ter, since he suspected the horse wouldn't react well in the presence of a dragon.
The enormous beast was perched on its belly on a slab of rock that was slightly higher than Tate, forcing the knight to look up at it. Its foreclaws curved around the edge of the rock shelf, talons like sickles. Leathery wings were folded intri shy;cately along its flanks. Tate was mildly surprised to note that while the creature was covered in flat, leathery scales, like a reptile, it also had smooth patches of hide. The dragon's col shy;oring was astounding. Never had Tate seen such black. It was liquid and luminous like ink, polished and impenetrable like onyx.
Its most arresting feature, though, were its eyes, set in a head nearly as long as Tate was tall. Dozens of paces away, Tate could hear its breathing and feel the rush of hot air from its lungs. But the eyes were quick and bright, despite being as big as a man's head.
Tate had expected to face a monster that was dull and hor shy;rid. He had found instead a beast with majestic, if unsettling, beauty. To the knight's surprise he felt more awe than fear in the presence of the magnificent animal.
Human and dragon studied each other at a distance. Finally the dragon spoke. "So this is what a Knight of Solam-nia looks like up close."
"I should say the same about dragons," admired Tate, eyes on the dragon's supple scales, gleaming like polished marble in the last rays of daylight.
"I was not admiring, only remarking," said the dragon stiffly. "You look much like any other human-puny and pale. Though your armor is better than most."
The haughty demeanor was no surprise. Such a slur com shy;ing from a human would have started a fight. Tate ignored it. "You speak the Common tongue."
"I speak twelve languages."
Tate blushed, feeling foolish. He spoke only one other, his native Solamnic.
"I haven't much time before my delay will be noticed," growled the dragon. "On behalf of myself and two comrades, I propose a deal. In exchange for three pieces of land at War shy;den Swamp in your Solamnia," the dragon had said, "my comrades and I will help you disable the Black Wing."
Under darkening skies, the dragon laid out the entire plan that night. Tate had been too stunned to respond. The dragon left him to think it over, promising to return within three days for Tate's answer. The lord knight of Lamesh had thought long and hard, prayed on bent knees t
o Kiri-Jolith as though all three days were holy ones. In the end the young knight had agreed, for the very reasons he'd told Wolter. Though he never saw the dragon's comrades, Tate met with Khoal twice after that, to determine the timing of the attack the dragon proposed against the Black Wing's stronghold.
What Tate hadn't told anyone was what he'd promised the dragons in return; Warden Swamp was not his to give away. Tate had no doubt the Council of Knights would never approve the residence of three black dragons in the middle of Solamnia. They barely wanted Tate there. He had resolved early on to find an answer to that problem when the need arose-if it ever did. Though Tate still stood by his decision, he wasn't without trepidation. There were countless ways the magic-wielding dragons could yet betray the deal. Tate tried not to dwell on such thoughts. He had cast his lot with them; there was no turning back now.
"Sir Wolter has assembled the knights, as ordered, sir." The messenger, a junior Solamnic Knight, sat his charger uncom shy;fortably at speaking to the lord knight, switching the reins from hand to hand. After several initial volleys of flaming arrows to create smoke and confusion in the compound, Tate's archers had begun to address arrows at the enemy bowmen on the battlements. "The knights await your signal, sir."
Tate hesitated. He'd never sent men into battle before. Remembering his prayers to Kiri-Jolith, the Knight of the Crown gave a brisk nod over the throng of armed men to Sir Wolter. The Knight of the Rose ordered the charge. The tense atmosphere suddenly exploded with the whoops and war cries of the attacking knights. They followed on the heels of the brave crossbowmen without armor or shields, chosen to blaze their trail to the breach. Two of seven bowmen fell within seconds to enemy arrows from above. The knights, slashing and stabbing with swords, axes, and halberds, pressed on across the rubble and through the wall.
When the knights were fully engaged with defenders inside the breach, Tate waved Wolter back and instructed him to create a similar, secondary line of attack on the other side of the gate, using slightly less than two-thirds the num shy;ber of knights. The battle-hardened elder knight nodded his approval of the plan and set off to implement it.
Before Tate the battle raged with the roaring cries of attackers and the defiant shouts of defenders. Clanging metal and thudding arrows competed to be heard above the squeals and groans of dying men and the whinnies of spooked horses. Many a gay tunic and shield crest was besmirched with the blood of the first men to die, their abandoned weapons smeared and tacky from the dust that rolled like brown fog across the battlefield.
Tate stayed behind, monitoring progress, waiting for the moment the storming of the breach was complete. His gaze continually swept the sky, looking for signs of the dragons.
So far, so good. Still, Tate was tense, anxious for this to be over. He cleared his throat impatiently and spat vehemently on the ground. "Sir Albrecht," he snapped to a young knight he'd held in reserve, "what is your view of things? Speak quickly."
Albrecht spurred his horse forward to ride up even with Tate. "Lord," he fairly shouted, "the men are hotly engaged, and pushing the enemy back into the fortress in waves! See for yourself!"
"I wish I could." Tate wiped his dry mouth with the back of his leather gauntlet. "Damn this dust! I can tell where my troops are only by the clouds they raise. It appears we're pressing them back now, but they were surprised," he said, speaking his thoughts aloud. "Soon they'll regroup and the fight will get much hotter. With any luck and Kiri-Jolith's blessing, the dragons will stay clear of the battle. I'd hate to fight them and this army, too."
Just then, as if the gods had heard his words and mocked him, Tate saw a number of enormous, swiftly moving shad shy;ows darken the dusty air about the fighting knights. Almost afraid to look up, the knight saw the pale underbellies of three black dragons circling not far above the castle, armed riders on their backs. They didn't appear to be attacking yet. In fact, looking above the clouds of dust, Tate thought he could see their irate highlords prodding them in vain to swoop on the attackers.
Tate wasn't about to wait for them to turn on his men, if that was their plan. Sir Tate Sekforde brandished his sword and waved the remainder of his troops onward toward the primary breach, to draw this battle he alone had started to a quick close.
* * * * *
"Who are they?" demanded Jahet. "Where did they come from?"
"My guess would be they're Knights of Solamnia from Lamesh."
Stunned, Jahet looked away from Khisanth's impassive face. The lead dragon quickly scanned their ranks of archers, cavalry, and infantry. "But they have no dragons. How can they possibly hope to win against our aerial attacks?"
"I believe they have three dragons on their side," said Khi-santh tersely.
Jahet's thick lips ruffled. "Look," she said, pointing to Khoal, Dnestr, and Neetra, soaring low over the fortress. "They're with their riders-our commanders."
"Then why haven't they attacked the enemy yet?"
"Because I haven't been able to give the order!" snapped Jahet. "I've been trapped in my lair!"
Khisanth took note of Jahet's frustration and adopted a tone meant to persuade. "Jahet," she said, her voice sanguine, "how do you explain the unexpected size, let alone arrival, of this army of knights? Who's been flying recon to the north? Not me, not you-but Khoal." Khisanth paused, letting Jahet absorb that truth. The anger lines around Jahet's snout and eyes eased a bit.
Khisanth pressed on. "They've obviously been lying about troop numbers at Lamesh. Khoal rearranged the schedule yesterday so there was no chance I'd go north and spot their approach. And so I'd return early enough to be sealed in last night." She could see Jahet reluctantly absorbing the truth of it. "Why is it so hard for you to admit their treachery?"
Even before she'd finished the question, Khisanth knew the answer from the look on Jahet's face. Their betrayal was a black spot against the ranking dragon. Khisanth actually felt an unfamiliar twinge of pity for the other dragon. Jahet's alle shy;giance to Maldeev, if not the Dark Queen, was so great, she obviously felt great shame at the disloyalty of dragons under her command.
"No one but Takhisis could have made them suppress their own greed, Jahet." The ranking dragon said nothing, her gaze focused below.
From their vantage point on the piney ridge to the west, Khi shy;santh and Jahet could see into the courtyard. It was a scram shy;bling tumble of disorganized humanity that was pushing south toward the tents and drill field. Fires burned unchecked inside the compound. Smoke mingled with dust to form a haze over the courtyard. Chickens squawked and skittered around; dogs barked. They watched as Khoal, Dnestr, and Neetra dropped from the air and landed on the drill field amidst the confusion.
"I can't figure out why those three haven't attacked the wing yet," mused Khisanth, "but we've got to get them out of the battle before they do."
"I'll bite their heads off myself!" spat Jahet, preparing to take flight toward the drill field.
Khisanth reached out a claw to stop her. "Think, Jahet. If we show up late and strike at our own dragons, we'll look like the traitors."
Jahet scowled. "I hadn't thought of that."
Khisanth put in quickly, "I have another idea that will remove them from the fight without engaging them for the whole wing to witness."
Jahet leaned in eagerly. "Tell me, quickly!"
Khisanth grimaced. "I don't think I want to tell you the details," she said uneasily. Before Jahet could voice her protest, Khisanth cut in with, "Let me explain. Someone has to restore order to our ranks, or the knights will burn the tower to the ground without Khoal and the others having to lift a wing against us." She regarded the disorganized masses of soldiers still scrambling aimlessly in the tower below.
"Maldeev must surely be wondering where you are. You must go to him, tell him what we know of the dragons. Together you need to fly against the knights-eliminate their archers. The troops will rally behind you at once. There's one problem, though."
Khisanth paused, snaring her lower lip betw
een razor-sharp teeth as she considered the three dragons, who were gathered on the southwest corner of the drill field. "It's essential that the other dragons think we're still trapped, at least until I can implement my plan for sending them away. Can you manage to stay hidden for that long?"
Jahet winced, realizing that the entrapment in her lair had caused her to break her vow to never keep Maldeev waiting.
She glanced at the knights, still launching flaming arrows and charging the walls. "I must join the highlord immedi shy;ately, but I could try teleporting directly into the great hall, then send someone into the courtyard to find him."
She winced slightly again. "I'm a little rusty at teleporting, though-haven't used much magic since my union-Mal-deev doesn't trust it around him. If I make it to the hall and find Maldeev, it'll take us a few moments to formulate a solid plan to reorganize the troops."
'That'll have to do," said Khisanth.
The lead dragon closed her eyes promptly, preparing to cast the dimly remembered spell, then opened them again to ask, "I could-I should-order you to tell me your plan."
Khisanth shook her head and gently nudged the other dragon with her snout. "You're better off not knowing. High-lord Maldeev's dragon must be above such skulduggery. If I succeed, their threat will be eliminated without tarnishing either of our names.
"If I fail," Khisanth shrugged philosophically, "I'll be beyond such mortal concerns. You'll be safe, too, because they won't even suspect you know their true colors, until if s too late for them."
"I'm trusting you to not fail, Khisanth." Jahet squeezed her large eyes shut tightly and was gone, leaving only a wispy trail of jet-black smoke drifting in the golden glow of dawn.
The ranking dragon had no way of knowing that Khisanth was about to break a vow of her own, made over the dead body of her lover one cold winter day.
* * * * *
The tall, raven-haired young woman purposefully pushed her way through the teeming throng of harried soldiers who were trying to assemble on the drill field to stop the flow from the courtyard. Her tawny gold eyes were focused on her intended destination.
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