The Captive

by Paul Lauritsen

  We have to catch the Keepers before they get back to the fortress, Garnuk urged. We cannot let them rejoin the battle!

  I understand, Zanove grunted. I think I can catch them.

  The silver dragon increased his speed, following the green dragon as closely as he could, narrowing the gap with every passing second. The Keepers did not fly down to the battle though, but back up to the central area of the fortress. Garnuk frowned, wondering at their lack of good tactics and strategy. There had been an opening, a brief one, but an opening all the same. The Keepers could have taken a pass at the army, given their own forces some much needed relief, then rejoined the battle with Zanove. But they ignored that opportunity and retreated to where they had started from instead. Were they wounded? Unable to continue the fight? Were they trying to land and escape the silver dragon somehow?

  They will not escape, Zanove snarled. I nearly have them now.

  They were rising to the walls of the main fortress now. Zanove opened his maw and let loose a short blast, catching the end of the green dragon’s tail in the flames but doing no real damage. The green dragon roared, soared over the wall, and wheeled back to face the silver dragon, hovering in place.

  Zanove.

  The single word, echoing across the intervening space, thundering in Garnuk’s mind, brought the two attackers to an immediate halt. Garnuk swore, preparing to order Zanove to continue the attack, when they were suddenly surrounded. Red, blue, bronze, and yes, purple scales flashed in the sun around him as four more dragons rose into the air, all with human warriors on their backs. No, not warriors, Garnuk realized, grinning maliciously. These were mere children, like the fool that sat aside the green dragon’s back.

  Zanove, the green dragon repeated. Leave off this pointless attack. We are not your enemy. We are your kin.

  Where did all of these others come from? Zanove asked Garnuk uncertainly. I thought you said the Keepers wanted no more dragons?

  No more dragons outside of their control, Garnuk replied. Maybe they thought one dragon was not power enough.

  Listen, brother, the green dragon urged. You are one of us. This vertag has made you a slave, a captive. Cast him off, break your chains, and release your anger.

  He gave me purpose! Zanove roared. Why should I trust you? You abandoned me, betrayed me!

  No, the green dragon replied patiently. We did not. We did not know you existed. If we had, we would have rescued you sooner. Come with us now, and be free.

  You mean be your slave! Zanove snarled, while Garnuk silently marveled at the silver dragon’s conviction. I am no fool! I know what you have done, the destruction you have sown. It is you who are the traitors. All of you! he added rounding on the others.

  You know that is not true, the green dragon replied calmly, still hovering in place. Let go of your anger Zanove. Release your hatred. Join us, and be a free dragon.

  Don’t listen to him, Garnuk murmured. He betrayed you.

  I know, Zanove growled. But they are so many. Can we even fight them all?

  Perhaps. Perhaps not. It will take everything you have, but I think you have the necessary power within you.

  Please, Zanove, the green dragon continued. Have the courage to change. Do not let anger and hatred define who you are.

  Zanove flared his wings, drawing his head back, jaws spread wide. Garnuk felt a low rumble building within the beast and he quickly latched onto Zanove’s back with both arms and legs.

  You want me to release my anger? Zanove growled. My hatred? Then here you are. Take it!

  The silver dragon roared with body and mind, a terrible sound that made Garnuk wince and withdraw from the beast’s mind for several seconds. The other dragons and the Keepers were similarly affected, the dragons dropping several meters as their wings faltered, the humans clapping their hands over their ears. Zanove roared again, spinning and spewing flames all around. The other dragons dove out of the way so their riders would not be burned to a crisp, and quite suddenly Garnuk and Zanove were no longer surrounded.

  “Shut it out!” the boy on the back of the green dragon shouted, his voice breaking. “Don’t let them rattle you, resist it! Remember the plan, fight back!”

  Now! Focus on the weakest first, Garnuk said, leaning over the silver dragon’s back.

  Zanove leapt forward, taking advantage of the momentary distraction, closing with the nearest of the younger dragons, a crimson male. Garnuk readied his sword, preparing to strike, reveling in this opportunity as Zanove channeled his rage into an uncontrollable strength and single-minded determination. This was power at its most elemental, ferocity at its basest level. This was what it felt to be unstoppable, the greatest power in the land.

  Roaring in unison with the silver dragon, Garnuk raised his sword and prepared to strike. He and Zanove might be outnumbered, but they had opportunity and nothing to lose. These Keepers would soon learn how dangerous they really were.

  Chapter 47:

  Dragon Flight

  “Shut it out!” Khollo shouted frantically, waving his arms over his head to get the attention of the others. “Don’t let them rattle you, resist it! Remember the plan, fight back!”

  Easier said than done, Kanin grunted, shaking his head doggedly. I have never considered weaponizing our ability to communicate before, but this young one seems to have mastered it.

  Likely by accident, Khollo grunted it. Is there any way you can counter it?

  Besides doing my best to ignore it? Not that I have found.

  What about focusing on something else?

  Kanin paused, considering. It blunts it somewhat. I will alert the others. No! Look out, Uthano!

  Khollo whirled around at Kanin’s warning in time to see the silver dragon diving towards Uthano and Sven. The crimson dragon was flailing in the air, bugling in alarm while Sven clung on grimly. As Khollo watched, too far away to help, the vertag on the back of the silver dragon raised a gleaming blade and hacked at Sven. Somehow, the northerner got his shield up just in time, barely deflecting the deadly blade. He had no chance to retaliate though, and Zanove was quickly on them again, harrying Uthano, keeping him off balance, forcing the pair towards the ground far below in an attempt to trap them.

  “Khollo!”

  The young Keeper twisted the other way and saw Aralye and Ayrmi flying towards them. “They’ve escaped, what now?”

  “We capture them again!” Khollo shouted. “Gather the others, focus on something else to block that dragon’s voice.”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything!”

  “We’ll try,” Aralye replied doubtfully. “But we need to move fast, or Uthano – ”

  “Is in trouble,” Khollo finished. Kanin, signal the others. Let’s move this battle away from the fortress, just in case.

  Right, Kanin agreed. Fall in!

  Ayrmi, Thela, and Amang quickly moved into formation, forming a wedge of scaled bodies, lurching and flinching occasionally as Zanove’s fury broke over them. Their riders clung grimly to the saddles with both legs and one hand, clutching their weapons in the other hand.

  “We’re going to isolate Zanove!” Khollo shouted. “Drive him away from the fortress. Once that’s done, attack individually, harrying him constantly, from different directions. They won’t be able to keep track of all of us.”

  “What if the dragons can’t handle it?” L’tel demanded, bouncing in the saddle and nearly losing his seat.

  “Then we try a different plan!” Khollo shouted.

  “Which is?”

  “I haven’t made it yet. Now, come on!”

  Kanin roared, trying to draw the attention of the Captive, to distract him from the beleaguered Uthano. The crimson dragon had deep gouges in his shoulders now, inflicted by the silver dragon’s claws. Sven was doing his best to block the attacks with his shield, but he could not protect all of Uthano, and Zanove and his rider never came within reach of the northerner’s axe.

  Tell Uthano to dive for the ground quick
ly, buy some space, and try and get out of there, Khollo muttered. Hopefully we’ll be there in time to cover him.

  And if we’re not?

  They’re running out of room to maneuver anyways. We need to try something.

  There was a pause, then Uthano roared, folded his wings, and plummeted towards the ground, leaving Zanove behind for a moment. The crimson dragon snapped his wings open at the last second, wheeling, and kicked off the ground, reversing his direction and flashing past the silver dragon in a blur. Sven swung his axe and managed to strike Garnuk across the forearm. The blow did not penetrate, but Khollo clearly heard the impact across the intervening space.

  “Oh, well done,” he murmured. “That’s our opening!” he shouted to the others. “Close in!”

  Kanin and the other dragons sprang forward, the arrowhead splintering as they each chose individual paths and angles, walling off Zanove’s escape. The silver dragon twisted around, roaring in confusion and fury as he tried to single out a target, but to no avail. Every time he made a bid for escape, one of the others swooped to cut him off, walls of fire blossoming to life and turning the renegade dragon back. Khollo and Kanin coordinated the attack with terse commands, heads on a constant swivel as they worked together to maintain the improvised cage.

  Now, Khollo murmured, let’s get some space to work. Drive him away from the fortress Kanin.

  The emerald dragon immediately broke out of the formation, charging straight at Zanove. The others began whirling around the silver dragon, forming a tunnel of wings and scales that forced him to retreat away from Kanin steadily. Zanove roared and lashed out with his tail and clawed feet, spewing fire at each of the Keeper’s in turn, but the flames splashed harmlessly off of scaly bodies, the dragons angling themselves to protect their riders without giving up containment.

  Stay focused! Khollo urged the others. Keep driving him away. Once we have space, it will be time for phase two!

  Zanove roared, lashing out with mind and body. The other dragons flinched as one, but they doggedly maintained their positions in the formation, keeping a barrier of bodies between the silver dragon and freedom. On Zanove’s back, Garnuk was looking around wildly, his sword held ready to strike at the first opening. Smiling grimly, Khollo continued urging the Keepers forward, driving the renegade before them.

  * * *

  Back at the West Bank, Relam watched the progress of the battle from the fortified gate at the lowest level of the fortress’ underground section. The fight was going poorly on the north wall, the vertaga having gained a significant foothold at the eastern end, steadily expanding their hold and driving the Sthan warriors off the fortification. The western end of the wall was unscathed, the warriors there watching nervously as the tide of the battle gradually flowed towards them.

  “This is not going well,” Janis murmured from beside Relam. “If the vertaga break off their attack on the wall and charge the gate here, any soldiers we have on the walls still will be stranded. We need to pull them back, now!”

  “No!” Relam said sharply. “If we withdraw, they’ll come right up to this gate, which we cannot hold against them.”

  “They have no siege engines.”

  “All they need is a battering ram and a whole lot of shields,” Relam replied. “Those men on the walls are buying us time, and that is exactly what we need.”

  “They’re only buying time so long as the vertaga are foolish enough to fight only along the wall,” Ondus pointed out. “As soon as their commander realizes what’s going on, he’ll redirect the attack and we’ll be in a tight spot.”

  “Then we need something else to hold his attention,” Relam grunted. “Lord Kurkan, how many riders do you have at your disposal?”

  “Cavalry? Several hundred light, perhaps a hundred armored knights.”

  “They’ll have to do. Have them form up outside, we’re going to flank the enemy.”

  “Flank them? From the outside?”

  “Yes.”

  Ondus frowned at Relam. “You’re going to divide our already outnumbered force and ride out from behind the walls that are our only advantage?”

  “It will give us the element of surprise.”

  “It might also get you dead,” Janis muttered.

  “We’re dead anyway if this keeps up. Maybe this way I can buy enough time for Khollo and the others to subdue the silver dragon.”

  “They don’t seem to have made much progress so far,” Janis countered doubtfully.

  “They’ll manage eventually,” Relam said. “They have to. Otherwise, this whole battle and maybe the war is lost.”

  “Fine, we send the cavalry,” Janis decided. “But let Ondus lead the charge. We can’t have you falling in battle, your majesty.”

  “I’m leading the charge,” Relam replied stubbornly. “That’s the only way this distraction will work.”

  “Do you have a death wish?” Janis demanded.

  “No,” Relam replied, turning away from the edge of the wall and marching back into the fortress. “But I’m willing to take the risk to give us the best chance at victory.”

  Ondus and Janis exchanged worried glances, then Janis shrugged.

  “I can respect that,” the lord of the West Bank said finally. “Anything else you need from us?”

  “Muster the cavalry,” Relam replied curtly, “Then hold the north gate if you can and watch for our return. Have men at the south gate too, if there are any to be had. It may be easier for us to charge back through there if the vertaga breach the walls.”

  “We’ll do what we can,” Ondus replied doubtfully, “But right now, I’m not confident in our ability to hold anything. The vertaga are just too powerful.”

  “We knew coming in we were going to lose this fight,” Relam reminded them. “We just need to lose slowly enough that the Keepers can come back and turn the battle at the end.”

  “And risking our entire cavalry is losing slowly?” Janis muttered.

  “Yes,” Relam said, nodding confidently. “It’s the best option we have right now.”

  “The boy’s right, Janis,” Ondus grunted. “We’re likely going down. Might as well make the most of it.”

  “Very well. I’ll ready the men. Ondus, hold this position.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Janis ran down the stairs to ground level, shouting his message ahead. Relam followed more slowly, thinking over his plan as he moved towards the gate. They would have to be quick crossing the fields, and even faster charging through the north gate. Any hesitation or falter would give the vertaga precious seconds to organize themselves and prepare for the surprise attack. Even now it might be too late, depending on how far the enemy had penetrated.

  Horses and soldiers were filling the lower level of the city fortress, and milling about outside the gate in the base of the hill as well. Relam accepted the borrowed horse that was led to him and mounted automatically, his gaze fixed on the distant north wall. The Sthan warriors there were in trouble, giving ground before the powerful vertaga. The monsters were battering away at shields and bodies with oversized blades and massive war clubs, smashing through every defense, breaking through formations and scattering soldiers with ease. And all the time more of them were gaining the wall, supporting their fellows and pushing them forward. Archers further along the wall were doing their best to slow the tide of foes scaling the wall, but it wasn’t enough.

  Relam urged his horse to the front of the cavalry, shouting for them to fall into ranks. The riders complied as quickly as they could, armored knights making up the first three ranks and bracketing the light cavalry at the end of each of the following rows. The young king checked the formation to be sure everyone was ready, then urged his horse into a gallop and raced towards the outer wall, a thunder of hoofbeats rising behind him.

  He heard shouts from the Sthan defenders as they saw the reinforcements, heard the roars of the vertaga and the clash of metal on metal. The noise of the battle soon drowned out the horses’ hoov
es, a cacophony of impacts, roars, yells, and snarls. It was disorienting, chaotic, horrifying, everything Oreius had warned him about and more. He had experienced something like this at Dun Carryl, but they hadn’t been losing then. Now, with the full knowledge that his forces were beleaguered and being battered to pieces, a cold fear was worming its way into Relam’s chest and stealing over his heart.

  He shook his head, forcing himself to focus, and yelled for the warriors at the north gate to open the portal. They sprang into action immediately, chains rolling and clanking, iron screeching as the portcullis flew up and the wooden doors swung outward. The gap between the gates was barely wide enough for a single rider as Relam approached, but getting larger all the time. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his legs tight against the sides of his horse, making sure he would fit through the gap.

  Then, they were beyond the north wall and riding across open lands, Relam’s cavalry streaming out behind him, the ranks automatically shifting to an elongated wedge formation. Relam rode out from the wall a little way, then waved his blade overhead to indicate a looping right turn that would take them through the rear ranks of the vertaga army. Armored knights moved up beside him on either side, swords, lances, and axes at the ready, firming up their formation and preparing for impact. Relam leaned forward in the saddle, fixed on the nearest rank of vertaga, already planning a course through the army.

  There was a tremendous crash as he rode through the first line of vertaga, his horse whinnying defiantly and pushing forward powerfully, trying to maintain its speed. Relam hacked wildly to either side with his sword, clearing as many vertaga from his path as he could. Behind him, the rest of the cavalry filled into the gap, pushing at the edges and expanding it, trampling rams under hoof and striking down any who tried to oppose them. But after several ranks, the momentum of the charge began to falter, slowing down as the horses grew tired and the vertaga resistance stiffened. Relam pressed forward, knowing there were only a few more foes in his path before they were in the clear again.