by Greg Curtis
It took a few moments for the spell to cut into the wing as he wanted, but then he was heartened by the sight of a small explosion in it, followed by the sight of the drake tumbling out of the air and then hitting the ground where it exploded properly.
The second drake proved just as easy to destroy. But the third was too close. It laid down a blast of heavy fire at the building he was hiding behind, knocking over its front walls and setting it ablaze. But then it made the mistake of continuing to fly over the burning building. Right over Sam's head. In a heartbeat he had a perfect target as the drake flew away from him, and Sam took advantage of it.
Heartbeats later the third drake came tumbling down out of the sky, only to explode when it hit the ground, sending shards of burning metal flying in all directions. They were actually more of a risk to him than the flames the drakes had launched.
Three drakes down, sixty wolves destroyed. The Dragon had to know he was in trouble. It was time Sam thought to make him understand that. Because the more frightened he was the more mistakes he would make. It was time to let him taste fear.
Sam sent the window flying back in to the city, but this time with only one target for the war masters to find. The Dragon himself. He was in there somewhere, hiding; hoping he would not be found. It was time to take that hope from him.
While the war masters searched the city, Sam set about restoring the magic to the fire scythe spell. It was a very effective spell and he wanted to have it ready when he needed it. He was nowhere near his full strength, so he needed to be prepared for whatever awaited him.
The war masters returned with a target for Sam just as he had finished restoring the spell to its full power. Apparently the Dragon was hiding in the wine store abutting the west wall. It seemed like an odd place to hide Sam thought. The wine store had only half height walls with poles supporting the clay tile roof above them, and there was nothing in them. No furniture, no food, no drinking water or places to bathe. It really was just a place where barrels of wine were stored. But if the war masters said that that was where the Dragon was, Sam was happy enough to take them at their word. Immediately Sam sent a stream of fireballs aimed at the inside of that wall. And then waited to hear back from the war masters.
When they reported back though it was to tell him that the Dragon was out in the open in the front courtyard and running around in a blind panic as he looked for new places to hide. There were also a number of wolves racing for the gate and presumably toward him. Sam saw it for the diversion it was. The Dragon needed to stop the fireballs landing on his head. But still, as another score of wolves rushed through the front gate, Sam was more than happy to destroy them. The more he got rid of the less the Dragon had left to call on. It was a simple equation.
The Dragon quickly settled on a new direction to run – away from Sam – and when the war masters told him that, Sam smiled. In that moment he knew that he had the Dragon. If he had run behind the pile of rubble that had once been the keep and into the city itself, then it meant he was no longer watching the front wall. It gave Sam the chance to approach the keep.
Sam began his approach, walking slowly up the road toward the gap where the front gate had been. And despite his certainty that he was safe he was relieved when no cannon fired at him and no wolves attacked him, even though he took his time covering the half league or so.
Just inside the remains of the gate he stopped, spotting a few wolves in the courtyard. They quickly fell to his spells, long before they had a chance to reach him. It was scary seeing the huge steel monsters almost the size of snap wolves running at him, but he was a soldier. He had been trained to deal with fear.
So another half dozen more wolves perished while he crossed to the side of the keep and the crudely repaired staircase leading up to the ramparts behind the walls. Going up the ramparts was his plan for dealing with the wolves. Because unlike the rats the wolves couldn't climb. They could ascend stairs which was why he was so keen to destroy the stairs after he'd reached the ramparts, but they couldn't reach him. Meanwhile he had complete access to the outside of the city. He even crossed the gap in the wall he'd created along the side of the courtyard, simply by using his magic to create a stone bridge.
After that the battle was his. He walked the ramparts which completely surrounded the city, destroying wolves wherever they appeared, while the war masters used the window to keep finding targets for him. It was slow – Fall Keep was a good sized city and the Dragon had plenty of burnt out buildings to hide in – but in only a few hours he was sure another sixty or so wolves had perished.
What did that leave the Dragon with he wondered? A pack of fifty or so wolves at most, he figured, and because his fireballs were levelling buildings one by one, they had fewer and fewer places to hide. It was only a matter of time.
Of course over confidence was always a weakness, and once again Sam had to remember that when he saw a shambling figure in rags – a beggar – suddenly walk around a corner. Why was the man here? The city was deserted. Or so he had thought. The walls were gone, the buildings burnt out. There was no food left. No resources. No riches of any kind. Multiple armies had threatened to invade it. And currently there were still steel wolves loose in it. Wolves that would surely kill anyone they saw. So why was there a beggar wandering the streets? Who was he going to beg from? How was he even still alive?
And were there others? He hadn't seen any, and the war masters looking on through the window hadn't reported any either, but that didn't mean there weren't any. They could be hiding in the ruins of their homes. In fact with the wolves running around the city, that was probably where they would be. While he was bringing the houses down on their heads one by one.
Sam didn't like that last thought very much. How could he level the city building by building and conduct a battle if there were innocent people in it? He could kill them. And what did he do about the one he had spotted? He had to get him out of the city obviously. But he also had to find any others. And both were impossible to do when he was standing on the battlements on the walls high above the houses, raining down destruction on them.
Sam sighed heavily, knowing his duty. And then he used a little Earth magic to extend a stone walkway from the rampart he was on to the roof of the nearest house. From there it was only a short jump through the already broken roof and then down through the house's internal staircase to the ground and the street outside. From here on he would have to face the wolves on the ground, one by one. He would have to search the houses before he destroyed them. And he would have to hunt the Dragon on foot.
But first he'd have to find that beggar he'd seen and get him out of the city.
That proved harder than he'd expected. By the time he'd made it to the street the beggar was gone. He'd either turned a corner or ducked into one of the houses, and since Sam hadn't seen which, he was going to have to check both.
Sam continued walking down the street, checking the buildings as quickly as he could and calling out to anyone who might be in them. As he'd expected his actions drew the wolves to him. Those that were left had taken up positions hiding in the burnt out ruins. A man alone on the ground would have looked like an easy target. So they charged him and he destroyed them one by one, though it was harder than it should have been. They were much faster on the ground than the rats and more cunning as they waited until he got close before rushing at him.
Sam however, held his fire shield tight as he walked down the streets and it seemed to work. The wolves exploded when they touched it and most of the debris went flying away from him. He took a few scratches and his armour – as minimal as it was – a few more, but after an hour he guessed a dozen wolves had fallen to it and he was still standing.
But he hadn't found the beggar. Nor any other civilians. No more had the war masters as they scoured the streets through the mirror. And all the time the Dragon remained hidden. Sam had however, levelled two more streets and scores of burnt out buildings that had once been homes and small b
usinesses. It was slow, but this way he knew that sooner or later the Dragon would be forced out into the open. There would be nowhere left for him to hide.
“Two streets up, to your left.” War Master Wyldred's voice suddenly interrupted him in his work, and immediately he heard it Sam started running in the indicated direction.
“The beggar or the Dragon?” It didn't matter which, he had to find them both.
“The beggar.”
Two streets up Sam turned the around the corner and got a glimpse of the beggar in the distance. He saw a dark, shambling figure ducking into a building. Sam started running harder. His blood and his training made him quick on his feet. But still he wasn't fast enough and to add to his worries a wolf came from out of nowhere to attack him. Happily it exploded on his fire shield, but still, it had caught him by surprise and he didn't like that.
When he reached the building, breathing a little more heavily than he would have liked, there was no sign of the beggar. But Sam was sure he was inside.
The building was a warehouse. Actually it was the burnt out remains of one. It stood three stories high, though he doubted it had any internal floors left as they would have been wood. All that was left was the building's skeleton which had been built from stone. Most importantly though it was dark inside. Pitch black. The roof was slate and still intact. The windows, those that hadn't melted, were covered with char. And the walls were fire blackened. There was no light inside and he didn't like the thought of entering the darkened space. Even with his fire shield he would have felt vulnerable.
Getting rid of the slate roof though proved easy as Sam fused the slates together, and then snapped all the nails holding them to what remained of the beams and purlins. He then let them slide off and fall to the ground where they shattered with a pleasing sound. With the roof gone there was plenty of light inside. Even on the ground floor. As he'd suspected, the internal floors had burnt out.
The light revealed about a dozen wolves as he walked in, something that sent his heart racing a little. They were perched in the corners of the building or lodged on the remains of the joists that had once supported the floors, gleaming in the newly arrived sunlight, and all ready to attack. But once the light had been shone inside the building and their element of surprise had been lost, they gave up on any plans of an ambush. Instead they rushed to attack him as he stood in the double width doorway staring at them.
Sam tightened his fire shield as he saw them charge. In short order the wolves threw themselves at it and exploded barely ten feet in front of him.
A matter of heartbeats later it was over and all the wolves were gone. All that was left was a large open expanse of dirt floor littered with burning pieces of twisted steel on the other side of a ruined door frame. And as he stood there staring at them Sam realised he'd found the Dragon. This surely had to be the last of his army, kept close to protect him. Which meant he had to be close.
“War Masters.” Sam indicated the warehouse. “The Dragon has to be inside.”
He let them do the search since they were safe behind their Window of Parsus, while he stood there and let the hope wash over him. It was nearly ended. And while it seemed odd to him that he should have chased the beggar in here only to find the Dragon, in the end that didn't matter.
What did matter was when a moment later a steel clad form abruptly swung down from above, burst through his fire shield and tried to put an axe through his head.
Sam dodged the attack – barely – and then pulled his own greatsword from his back as the Dragon came at him again. Instinctively he countered another vicious attack designed to cut his legs out from under him. And again he barely succeeded. The Dragon was fast, his fury powering him as nothing else could. More than that, he was trained. And Sam had been caught by surprise. He didn't like that.
Sam hadn't expected the Dragon to be so capable. He'd seen the Dragon in the Window of Parsus and known he was troll blood. He'd seen him murder those unfortunate men his machina had abducted. But still he'd thought of him mostly as an enchanter. That was what made him dangerous after all. So to have the Dragon in front of him, dressed in some sort of steel armour that obviously protected him from fire and swinging a pair of heavy hand axes was distinctly scary.
But in a strange way it seemed right that at the end he would have to face him sword against axe and tusk. And it wasn't a choice. After all, the Dragon's armour protected him somewhat against fire and Sam's magic was at a low ebb to begin with. He had more strength with his Earth magic, but the Dragon had the same magic. And nature magic wouldn't help either of them. In the end it had to be steel on steel.
Fortunately, though the Dragon had the speed and strength the blood of his trollish ancestors gave him, Sam had years of training in combat. And once he'd dodged the second attack he calmed his nerves and remembered the basics of combat. The third time the Dragon came for him he dodged again but this time swivelled as the troll over extended and planted a boot in his back.
The Dragon went flying, sprawling back into the warehouse only to land on his face. Sam strode after him thinking to end this quickly.
His enemy had other ideas though and he rolled to his side surprisingly quickly before finding his feet once more. Once again the two of them stood facing one another. Knight against troll. Enchanter against enchanter. Fire Angel against Dragon. Standing in what to all intents and purposes was an arena. Sam heard a gasp that he knew was his wife's, but he could not take a single heartbeat to comfort her. Not when he had an enemy to face.
Maybe this was supposed to be how it ended Sam thought. It seemed right somehow. Though he'd never seen a troll in armour before. Nor one that knew how to fight with weapons and armour. Normally they were savage creatures and that was how they fought. Though he might not be a military strategist, he was a clever fighter.
The Dragon demonstrated that a moment later as he bent, half rolled, stuck one axe in the other hand, grabbed up a handful of dirt from the ground and flung it at him. Sam spun, barely managing to keep the dirt from finding his eyes, and knowing this was going to be no easy battle. Fortunately he knew enough to complete his spin, greatsword held out before him, and then catch the Dragon who was already rushing him on the shoulder. The heavy plate took most of the blow, but it still buckled and tore. Sam could see a trace of blood on his blade as the Dragon was knocked aside.
“First blood to me then!” Sam laughed at the Dragon, hoping to goad him into making a mistake. But other than letting out a savage growl, the Dragon didn't seem to fall for the trick. His tusks might look as brutish and animalistic as those of any other troll, but there was a mind behind them. A mind that knew Sam was dangerous with a blade in his hand.
The Dragon tried the move a second time, but this time instead of scooping up dirt he tossed a belt knife at him, hoping to catch him by surprise. It bounced off Sam's armour, but even so the sound told him he had to be wary.
“If you'd had any sense you would have gone for the legs.” He taunted the Dragon.
“If you had any sense you'd run!” The Dragon wasn't so good at the game, but he still knew how to threaten.
Unfortunately for him Sam suddenly remembered that he still had some useful magic at his command, and he sent a spray of ice at the Dragon. He figured that the armour might be proof against fire, but that ice was a different matter.
“Foetid whore!” The Dragon swore and shook off the ice, mostly unharmed, but he had bruising to his cheek. “You're nothing without your magic!”
Sam knew then that the Dragon had weak points he could exploit, and not having worn a full helm was one of them. Of course Sam also had weak points as he'd come wearing only his chest and back plates.
“And you're nothing without your armies. But I don't see them around.”
“They'll be back. As soon as I've killed you.” The Dragon edged to his left, sheathed his axe and drew a long steel knife for his off hand. It seemed he had no end of weapons strapped to his armour.
; “Trying to gain position?” Sam laughed as he responded to the move. “Thinking to feint and dive through the door to safety? No such luck. I'll always know which way you'll jump. You're just not very bright.”
“Really? You didn't catch me before. I escaped the island before you reached me. And if you hadn't had help you wouldn't have stopped me at Andrea.” The Dragon edged another step to his left.
“Escaped the island?” Sam didn't understand. Nor did he really care. But he was curious. And he wanted his enemy distracted.
“I heard the fool priest when he said that the Fire Angel was coming for me. So I made sure I wasn't there.”
Sam shrugged having no idea what the Dragon was talking about. Yet it did explain why he'd run to Fair Fields. Still, this was all about distracting him, not having a conversation. And he knew one way to do that. “So I destroyed Andrea instead. It wasn't hard.”
That got the response he'd wanted from the Dragon, as the troll blood snarled like an animal at him. “The fire is weaker without Andrea but there are other workshops and you don't have enough sun bursts to destroy them all.”