The Dragon Guard: Moons and Sons by Sarah Hite

by Sarah Hite

  They found themselves in the lower marketplace. Flame ducked against his shield as an arrow crashed against it. He did not have to tell his men to fight back because this battle was far underway. He watched from horseback as the King’s Men fought the duke’s forces. He heard the screams as men fell; he saw the dragons dive in from above and fly away with soldiers and weapons. He could smell burning wood and cloth, even seared flesh, when the fires took more than just the buildings.

  He snapped back to reality when Lukair screamed and threw a spear. It struck a soldier in the chest and brought him to the ground. Flame turned in time to see the man fall. He had been right behind him, poised to kill. The two boys exchanged nods before returning to battle. Flame raised his small sword and struck out, cutting a soldier through his armor. He pulled the blade from the corpse and blocked an attack from another man. He thrust off the other sword, swung his blade, and did not wait to see it slice through the man’s neck. He turned and parried another blow. Then he twirled the blade in hand and sliced downward, cleaving another’s skull.

  Startled exclamations from the end of the courtyard forced Flame and Lukair, who had not gone far, to look in that direction. They smiled as three Forest dragons forced a group of about thirty men into a stone-fronted store. When the men were inside one of the dragons rolled one of the catapult boulders in front of the door, trapping them. The dragon, the boys remembered was named Lang. He was Chekal’s father, Kwan’s older brother.

  Lang looked at Flame and nodded. He then leapt to the air, throwing up dirt and debris as he flapped to gain altitude. He landed atop the fractured section of wall and bellowed a challenge to Vidar’s forces. Kwan landed next to him. He said something to the older dragon before taking off, causing Lang to briefly shake his head. He signaled another dragon, then called out, “Vacate the area; it’s time for Phase Two.”

  They had successfully taken the market and surrounding area. Flame spurred his horse toward the second level and saw, out of the corner of his eye as Lang tore through a flag bearing Vidar’s sigil. As he released the torn fabric, a flash of silver lit the area as Moon passed. She opened her maw, releasing a torrent of fire upon the fabric. A warrior rode upon her back, clad in shining armor. The warrior lifted a bow and fired an arrow. It went right through an enemy archer’s armor; he fell from the wall to the ground below. Moon turned and flew off, Ania shooting down men as she went. Together, Moon and Ania made quick order of an enemy ballistae that was aimed at a group of dragons, trying to break through the second wall.

  It did not take long; the combined efforts of a Fire dragon and an Ice dragon soon tore the gate right off its hinges. The Fire dragon took the gate between his teeth and threw it into the courtyard below. He snorted as the two dragons stepped back, allowing the army to enter. A volley of arrows, both normal and heavy, plummeted from above. “Shields up!” Flame hollered as he raised his shield.

  Ania watched from Moon’s back as the men took cover. “Tell Seoung to have the prisoners taken to the lower level and held there.” Moon said nothing, but Ania could see that her order was being followed. “Take me to the central courtyard. Then return to Flame; the King needs his Silver Dragon.” Moon nodded and dipped her left wing, turning south. She landed in the courtyard and Ania jumped down.

  “What is the plan? Flame will want to know,” the Princess asked.

  Ania threw her bow over her shoulder and pulled out her sword. “I have a dragon to find.” She ran off before Moon could say any more. Moon watched her disappear into the shadows of an archway, leading to the castle above. She turned to leave when movement caught her eye. Twelve soldiers were attempting to surround her, four were Kenjin. Knowing what they had done to Kym, she growled and turned to the man in charge. This Kenjin bore his rank on his left shoulder, sewn in gold thread.

  She growled again, and did not wait for them to strike. She reared back on her hind legs, pulled the heat from her belly, and released the inferno at the Kenjin. She swung her head around, setting the men ablaze. There was only one man standing when she slammed her jaws shut, smoke still trailing from between her teeth. She dropped back to the ground and turned to face him. She studied him for a moment, eyes shining from beneath her armor. He was tall, lanky, and had shaggy black hair. His armor was a disgrace; he wore no helmet and only a thin, rusted shirt of chain mail. She thought to herself, with some amusement, He’s shaking in his boots. She stretched out her neck and blew smoke in his face. He turned ghostly pale and, at the same instant, dropped his sword, letting the blade slip between his fingers. Moon pulled herself to her full height and growled low. The man threw his hands in the air and fled, screaming the whole way. Moon chuckled to herself as she took flight; she had enjoyed scaring the man.

  Ania crept through the corridor as quietly as she could. A shadow ahead halted her, and she pressed herself into a notch in the wall, containing only an empty hold for a torch. The hall was quiet. She stayed there for a moment, biding her time. As she began to step back into the hall, a shadow, roughly two and a half feet long and eighteen inches tall, leapt to life. It flew past her and tack- led a man, weapon drawn, bringing him to the ground. Ania stared at the man, then at the dragon. “Shaelynn! What are you doing here?”

  The dragon growled at the man and did not move. Ania lifted her blade to his throat and the dragon stepped down. She looked up at Ania, “They hold my brother captive; did you really expect me to stay in camp?”

  The man stared at her; he obviously did not know dragons could speak. She ignored him and walked a short ways down the hall. “Tell us where the little dragon is,” Ania demanded. He shook his head. Shaelynn growled and turned back to him.

  “Where is he?” she asked, growling at the same time.

  “I don’t know!” he exclaimed. “Only the Duke and the Lords knew where it—”

  Shaelynn growled, cutting him off, “Where… is… he?” Ania threw him against the wall. “I swear! I don’t know where he is!” Ania glared at the man and then struck him with the pommel of her sword.

  As he fell, Ania declared, “Well, you are your mother’s daughter.” Shaelynn snapped her jaws and padded down the corridor, leaving Ania behind. She hurried to keep up with the hatchling.

  Flame was fighting his way toward the gate to the next level. If they were able to take the castle, they would win the war. He blocked a blow and struck out, but the man dove aside, causing him to miss. His balance thrown off, the prince fell from his horse and lost grip on his blade. He hit the ground, losing the air in his lungs, his helmet now several feet away as he struggled to his feet. He could hear shouts as his personal guards tried to reach him, but they were cut off by more soldiers. He heard a cold chuckle as a man in the black armor of the Kenjin stepped out from behind the remains of a building, Dregno Gunner.

  Flame growled and pulled Hegrim free from its sheath. He held the sword, ready to fight, and watched Gunner as they circled each other. Flame could hear his men fighting around him, but he focused on the man before him, waiting for a sign that would give him away. Minutes ticked by as the two circled each other.

  On the other side of the square, Lukair and Stone were helping one another fight off a group of men. Stone’s sword hung at her side; instead, she held her bow. She notched an arrow and pulled back. She held it a moment before releasing it. It whizzed through the air and right into the shoulder of a soldier ten feet away. Flame whirled his sword, blocking an attack from a man with a mace. The man was huge. He stood at least six feet tall, his girth spanned three times that of Lukair’s. He wore no chain mail, just a thick leather shirt, and he carried a wooden shield. The man swung the flailing mace again, catching Lukair in the left arm. He clamped his mouth shut, hissing through his teeth.

  Stone saw her brother was in trouble and tried to reach him, but there were too many soldiers in her way. Even as she fired arrows at them, they still continued to come. She watched in horror as the soldier swung the weapon again. Lukair barely had time to block th
e attack. He struggled against the larger man but would not last much longer. His boots were slipping on the pavement; a moment later he went down. He landed hard on one knee, still struggling to keep the mace away from him. “Lukair!” Stone screamed.

  Flame glanced up; he saw Lukair struggle against the soldier, and it was just the distraction Gunner needed. He swung his sword quickly; Flame had just enough time to raise Hegrim against the attack. He disengaged and countered, swinging the sword to the right and upward, striking at Gunner’s side. Gunner blocked and kicked Flame in the knee. He fell, rolled, and jumped back to his feet. He bellowed and charged his opponent again. They continued their dance while the war raged on around them.

  “Lukair! Lukair, get up!” Stone cried from farther down the courtyard. Silvrin had led a small group to seize the armory. He had left Martus in charge and had come to relay their success. He froze as he saw his son. Lukair was on his knees, arms trembling. Silvrin dove into the throng and engaged a group of soldiers. He tried his best to reach his boy, only to be blocked again and again. Stone exchanged her bow for her sword. She had improved greatly since the Battle of Magree. She parried an attack, spun around, thrust forward, and with a twist of her wrist, disarmed the man. However, her increased abilities were not enough to break through the mass of soldiers around her.

  The massive man swung the mace again; it wrapped around Lukair’s sword, wrenching it from his hands. He fell, trembling and heaving for breath. He looked up at the man towering above him; he had lost, and now he would pay the price. The man raised his weapon for the final blow. Stone screamed. He swung the mace downward.

  A shadow flashed as someone leapt off of a nearby rooftop. He tackled the soldier, throwing off his aim. The mace bounced off Lukair’s helmet, but it was enough. He fell, motionless, to the ground. The soldier turned to his new adversary. He sneered at the black-haired boy in front of him. “Don’t you dare touch my brother again,” Lorex commanded angrily. He raised his sword and engaged the enemy. He tried to keep the man away from Lukair, until someone could take his body to safety. He knew he was no match for this man, but he thought, per- haps, he might be able to give the others the time they needed.

  Flame rolled to the side and ducked under Gunner’s arm. He brought Hegrim up as he rose. Gunner brought his blade down at the same time; sparks flew as the two weapons collided. Flame disengaged and spun to the left. He back stepped and raised the sword against Gunner’s blade. Blood dripped from his fingers, endangering his grip on Hegrim. The blood came from a wound on his right forearm. He had also been cut in the side and across the temple. Blood dripped in his eye; he blinked to clear it. As he blinked, Gunner slipped around his side and struck him from behind. The Prince fell. He fell to his knees. Gunner chuckled and raised his sword for the final blow.

  Flame saw his movement out of the corner of his eye. He reached down, releasing his hold of the great sword, and picked up an arrow that was lost in the dirt. He wanted something he could move fast. He waited for Gunner to make his move. As the old fighter brought the sword down against Flame’s neck, he dove to the left, rolled, and struck out with that arrow. He leapt to his feet and shoved the arrow deep into the man’s throat. “One soldier who puts on his armor should not boast like one who takes it off!” Flame said though clenched teeth. The look of shock was the last thing Gunner revealed before his body quietly fell to the ground.

  Moon flew over his head and landed a few feet behind him. “Are you all right?” He nodded and turned toward his friends. He ran to help them but only got halfway there when the mace struck Lorex in the helmet. He had tried to block the attack but had reacted too slowly. The mace hit hard and snapped his neck. He dropped his sword and fell silently to the ground. Flame reached them just as his head hit the pavement. Silvrin and Stone were not far behind. Flame raised Hegrim against the man. He caught the chain with his blade and yanked the mace from his grip. He smiled viciously. “They were my friends.” The man’s eyes lit up with surprise as he was suddenly ten feet off the ground. Elder held him by his shirt, and slowly turned him around. The man bulked as he saw what held him off the ground.

  “Did not anyone teach you not to pick on those smaller than you?” He tossed the man over to another dragon for disposal, then turned his attention to the young men at his feet. He could see Lorex was beyond help but Lukair could still be saved. He saw Shaman Ketowa and called, Take these two back to camp. The Ice dragon acknowledged and turned their way. Elder turned back to the small group in front of him. “Silvrin, my friend, take your daughter and return to camp with Ketowa; your family needs you now,” The old dragon said gently.

  “Come, we have unfinished business with Vidar,” Moon said, nosing Flame’s shoulder. He slowly nodded and turned to the passage that led to the top level.

  Carefully Ania peeked around the corner. She did not see anyone but did not allow herself to be lulled into a false sense of peace. She looked down at the dragon by her side. Shaelynn sniffed the air, then slowing stepped out of the stairwell. She was invisible at the moment, perfect for seeing if the coast was clear. Alert for soldiers, she crept farther down the hall. They had just come from the dungeon. Ania had thought for sure that Sayden would have been there.

  Shaelynn sniffed the air again, then turned back to Ania. She shook her head and Ania quickly and quietly went to the youngster’s side. They made their way down the hall, trying to think of where else they might be keeping Sayden. Ania knew the castle had towers; perhaps they had put him in one of those. They would have to go up a level in order to find the stairs leading to the towers.

  The first staircase they came to went up to the second floor and down to the kitchen. The steps were curling away in opposite directions. Shaelynn quietly mounted the stone steps. Ania was relying on her senses to detect possible dangers. They crept up the stairs and peeked into the hall. Ania ducked her head back in the stairwell as Lord Mobren strolled by. He was dragging a thin woman by her curly, blonde hair along with him. She was dressed formally, but he treated her like a slave. She was whimpering, one hand trying to relieve the pressure to her skull, the other clenched his arm. Ania could not bear to watch. She left the stairwell and quietly approached from behind. He held the women still while he tried to find the right key for the door they were standing before. “Hey, Mobren. Let go of her!” Ania yelled at him. He dropped his hold on her and his keys.

  He turned to confront her. “Well, well, what do we have here? A lost little girl. And who might you be?”

  “You know full well who I am.”

  He chuckled. “Come to avenge your parents?”

  “No, only to seek justice. Justice for my parents, and everyone else you’ve wronged, including the Princess of Dragons’ Keep, whose egg you tried to hide.”

  “Really? How interesting. And if I said I knew nothing about an egg…?”

  “The egg doesn’t concern me. The hatchling Gunner took; however…”

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that either.”

  “Oh, well I’m afraid it’s not me you’ll have to convince.” At that moment Shaelynn revealed herself. She tackled Mobren, forcing him to the floor. She kicked his sword free and out of his reach. Ania crossed her arms, a scowl marring her pretty face. “This is Shaelynn. She has a bone to pick with you. See, it was her egg you tried to hide; it’s also her brother, her clutch mate, that was taken, and I can’t guarantee I can keep her from killing you.” Shaelynn snapped her jaws for emphasis.

  Ania ignored his pleas and approached the women. She was sitting on the floor, one hand on her head, the other at her mouth. Her face was tearstained, her hair a mess. Ania picked up the key ring and offered a hand to the woman. She looked up at Ania, surprise lighting her eyes. She slowly lifted a shaky hand and Ania pulled her to her feet. Ania smiled at her, “What’s your name?”

  “Amelia,” she answered quietly. She looked up at Ania. “I know where the little dragon is.” She led Ania to a balcony and pointed out a sp
ot. “They moved him there when the alarm sounded last night.” Ania looked up. She had not noticed the sun rise. She took one last look at the sun and noticed Moon and the rest of the army trying to break down the last gate. She picked out the keys she would need and handed the rest to Amelia. “Free those you can.”

  She turned and went back inside and met Shaelynn just beyond the doors. Her claws were dripping with blood. Ania looked over at where Mobren had been only to see a lifeless body. “Shae, what did you do?”

  She looked at Ania, then back at the body. “He gave me the wrong answer,” she simply said, revealing blood-stained teeth.

  “What would your mother say?”

  “Good riddance,” she said without even thinking of an answer. They left Amelia to free those remaining in the palace and hurried for the stairwell.

  Moon rammed the door again. She felt it move slightly and bashed it again. Slowly, the door loosened. It creaked and, with a screech, came off its hinges. The men rushed in, but halted as they entered the courtyard. Vidar stood on the raised stone ahead of them. Behind him lay Sayden, who was bound to the stone. The chains that held him were two inches thick; the little dragon could barely move. Moon halted in her tracks when she saw him. She trembled with fury, anguish, and uncertainty.

  “If you want him alive, this war ends, and you give up,” Vidar sneered.

  “If I don’t?” Flame asked, holding back his temper.

  Vidar flicked a finger. Flame looked up and saw the multiple ballistae aimed at him. “If you don’t, then the dragon dies.”