Battle of Black River (Blood of the Dragon) Page 2

  Sigurd was thrown off balance and spun backward, somersaulting in the air. He turned to face the dragon again, roaring his challenge as he did so. The beast let another ball of spit fly. This time, Sigurd was not so lucky. He attempted to dodge, but the flaming ball grazed across his neck between the small gap where two pieces of armor met.

  It nearly hit Roland, too, but the man gripped a rope on Sigurd's neck and swung himself over the side and out of the way. He dangled precariously over the valley below as the two dragons danced in the air, swaying far away from the red dragon's flank as the king made a swift turn. When the dragons collided once more, he was thrown into Sigurd's side and quickly gripped the saddle, pulling himself back into his seat.

  "It burns, badly," Sigurd sent Roland's way as the commander's thigh settled back into place. The man could see a deep groove in Sigurd's scales and heard the sizzling of the flesh as the flaming spit ate away at it. Leaning over, he used his gloved hand to brush the slimy stuff away from his friend's wound. It started to burn through his glove and he was forced to rip it from his hand and send it tumbling to the earth below.

  As he watched it fall, the man surveyed the scene. Bodies, both man and beast, lay strewn across the valley, but more often than not, the dead and wounded wore Sigurd's white and red colors. The black of Aron's banner still surged along the valley and up the hillside toward the camp Sigurd's men had set the night before. Alarmed, Roland looked up to count the dragons still in the air. The same image played out. More black than red could be seen and more red were falling with each wave of attack.

  Sigurd finished the orange dragon with a swift jerk of his large jaws and the creature plummeted to the ground, dying on impact. Halfway across the battlefield, the king could see a black shape in combat. He made for the creature with revenge sitting heavily in his heart.

  "Sigurd, no. We have to pull back."

  The red dragon shook his head at his friend's thought. "He's mine."

  "No, Sigurd, we have to retreat. We are going to lose this."

  Sigurd roared and sped up, determined to destroy his traitor of a brother.

  "Sigurd!"

  The shout close to his ear caused the dragon to pull up and turn his head. Roland rarely spoke out loud during combat. Blinking, Sigurd looked around him and saw the same destruction that Roland had already witnessed. The big beast growled and ached to smash something. Instead, he turned and headed back toward the west.

  "Retreat!" The dragon used his deepest, loudest voice to issue the heart-wrenching command to his remaining soldiers. He could hear it echoed across the field and saw them starting to pull back. Dragons dressed in his red and white dove to pick up humans running in fear and carried them to safety far up on the hill. From that vantage point, they would have a relatively defensible position as the unmounted men sought cover in the forest beyond.

  Snarling, Sigurd followed suit, his shoulders sagging and his flesh still burning with hatred.

  ***

  "Should we follow them?" Apoph asked the king riding on his back. He had not wanted to be a bearer for anyone, but Aron had insisted and the man was very hard to refuse.

  "No, let them go," he responded with a smirk. "We have done enough damage today. Let them lick their wounds for awhile. We wouldn't want the war to be over too soon, now would we? Where would be the fun in that?"

  With a laugh, he slapped the dragon on the shoulder, causing Apoph to snarl inwardly. Apoph felt his heart seize a little at the sight of his brother's retreat, but he pushed the feeling aside and focused on the dream he had promised himself. Though Aron had never outright agreed to it, he had not disagreed, either. Apoph held onto that hope, terrified of admitting the truth, even to himself.

  Hidden

  The sapphire dragon paced slowly in front of the large fireplace in the main hall of the castle at Black River. Her stomach bulged on both sides, offering evidence of her youngest child's impending birth. She breathed deeply, willing the pain in her abdomen to subside until she was ready for the egg to come forth.

  "Silene? Are you well, my love?" Sigurd lounged on a cushion under the window, poring over maps of the advancing enemy and figures of recent battle losses.

  The queen nodded and inhaled sharply as a pain shot through her stomach. "Fine, darling. Though I'm not sure how long I can hold out before I must lay. I don't think our little boy or girl is willing to wait until we can make plans for their safety."

  She smiled at her mate, but he could see the fear in her eyes. She worried daily about the fate of their children, as did he. They had four children total, counting the one resting in her womb. The other three, two males and a female, were old enough to participate in battles, and the two boys had been leaders in several of the smaller battles. It ripped at her heart each time one returned with more scars, looking as haggard as their father.

  Silene herself had been banned from battle for months, a fate she thoroughly detested. It caused her undue stress to be stuck in the castle while her family and friends were out risking their lives to free the land from the encroaching tyranny of Aron. Her constant fear was more than partially to blame for her unexpectedly early laying date, and it was not helped by Sigurd's incessant nagging about her need to relax and remain calm while her children were in constant danger.

  The blue dragon snorted as her heightened hormones made her irritated at her husband's lovingly annoying concern and she shot him a glare. He sat back with his eyes wide, once again aware that he had unknowingly upset her. Inside, he tried to stifle his laughter. He had dealt with Silene's crazy mood swings during the previous three layings and this was no different, aside from the fact that they were at war and the results of those previous layings were in mortal danger. He offered her a weak smile and turned back to the maps, trying to hide the fear and worry sitting heavily on his own face.

  "Sir, ma'am, they have arrived." Roland stood at the door expectantly, his face full of meaning.

  Silene stopped pacing as Sigurd pushed away the maps. "Bring them in, please."

  Two tall, lanky creatures stalked through the doorway, followed a little too closely by the commander. They were Hidden, beings who were invisible to nearly all but a select few with the ability to see into their special plane of existence. Roland did not have that ability and neither did Silene. She remained staring at the doorway long after they had entered, having missed the tell-tale ripple of air that betrayed their presence. Sigurd, blessed with the gift of Sight, lowered his head to the man and woman. Silene noticed his gesture and oriented herself accordingly, suppressing her annoyance at the inability to see their guests and offer the proper liquid refreshment.

  "Thank you for coming, Nola and Rip. The time grows near and we cannot put this off any longer."

  The two creatures bowed deeply, their tall forms doubling nearly in half. "It is our pleasure, Sigurd, King of Dragons." They turned and offered the same greeting to Silene, though she could not see or hear them.

  Sigurd relayed their greeting to her and she nodded in their direction before he continued. "You know of our plans?"

  Rip, the male Hidden, nodded. "Abadon explained much to us on our visit to his camp."

  Sigurd stiffened slightly at the mention of his eldest son. He glanced to Silene momentarily. "How is our son?"

  Nola smiled. "He is doing well, despite the loss at Anatoli Valley. We were with him there and it was a tough defeat. I believe he may have been able to hold onto the land, but his losses would have been more than anyone would consider acceptable, except maybe Aron himself. He seems to have no concern about those beneath him, which is why he has such an edge over us."

  Sigurd relayed the conversation to Silene and Roland and smiled as Silene sighed audibly and relaxed a little.

  "Thank you, Nola. Now, what do you think of our plan?"

  Rip bobbed his head and sat down in a chair. Sigurd marveled at the Hidden's ability to interact with objects outside their plane and wished he could come up with a way to do
the same in the Hidden world. He had heard rumors of certain forward-thinking Hidden trying to create objects that would allow them to be seen and heard by normal, everyday people, but up to that point, they had only succeeded in interaction with inanimate objects. They could not even participate in battles in the normal way because their weapons could not touch living beings. Someday, Sigurd assured himself, the barrier would be removed and the Hidden could live in harmony with the rest of the world.

  "It has promise, but it needs some tweaking. First, we cannot take the egg into our plane permanently. As you know, we have tried to bring others over into our world, with disastrous results."

  The red king nodded, thinking of the time he had lost a trusted assistant to an experiment of the sort. The man had volunteered willingly, and Sigurd was thankful he had no family to speak of. The man was ported into the Hidden plane with the intention of staying there for an extended period of time. Centuries ago, the Hidden had discovered the ability to port someone through their plane to another place, but it was done quickly and over within minutes. This man meant to remain in their world, invisible to common sight. He had been with the Hidden for less than an hour before he began to disappear. His body began flaking away as he watched. In an effort to save him, the Hidden tried to transport him back, but the act of doing so caused his body to decay completely and he arrived in the common world as nothing but a pile of ash. Since then, transport on the Hidden plane was very limited.

  Silene's plan was to put the egg into stasis with the help of the Gypsies, effectively freezing it as soon as it was laid. The Gypsies had an uncanny ability to interact with the Hidden and several more adept individuals had been able to co-exist with the creatures on their own plane, unlike the humans and dragons. Their magic was special and the queen hoped that it would be enough to keep the egg safe. That she was even willing to attempt such a dangerous plan was evidence of her belief in their success in the war and it broke Sigurd's heart to see the defeat already sitting heavily on his mate's shoulders.

  "I agree. We have been in contact with a Gypsy camp in the north. A representative should be arriving any day now. They have agreed to take the egg into their possession and protect it with their lives."

  Again Rip bobbed his head. Sigurd had never learned the meaning of the bouncing gesture that was neither a yea or nay and no other Hidden he knew did such a thing. "It seems reasonable. We will put a guard with them and do everything in our power to assist them in the matter."

  "Thank you. We could not bear to lose our child before he is even hatched."

  Nola perked up. "You know it is to be a male child?"

  Sigurd laughed and shook his head. "I don't know for sure, but I have been correct in guessing the gender of all my children and I have a strong intuition that this one will be a boy. Silene disagrees with me, insisting that I simply cannot know." He affected an imitation of her and gave her a knowing smile, at which she stuck out her tongue at him. But her eyes were shining and his heart lightened to see the rare grin that split across her face.

  Silene stepped up beside him, carefully avoid the space where she knew the Hidden stood, and kissed his cheek. "One thing I do know is that our child will be strong, whether male or female. All of our children have been strong-willed, intelligent, and determined. The one will be no less. And if we do not succeed in our lifetime, I hope that they can be part of bringing peace back to the land in the future."

  The dragons and human fell silent as the Hidden pondered Silene's prediction. She was as much as admitting defeat, something she never did, even when battling Sigurd over some small debate and she knew she was in the wrong. The end was near and none of them could prevent it.

  The Future

  "You need to breathe, mistress." The young dragon ran a comforting tail along the spine of the larger blue dragon, speaking softly and tenderly.

  "I know, Lanissa. This is not my first laying, you know." Silene ground out the words through clenched teeth and her eyes shot daggers at the laying assistant. An older dragon whose scales were going gray around her yellow temples stood in the corner chuckling at the continued exchange. She had been with Silene for her first three layings and knew that the queen's temper could rise to near violence during those times, despite her normally loving demeanor. Poor Lanissa, her apprentice, was experiencing her first real laying and it would likely be her most trying. If the girl could make it through this, the dragon thought, she could make it through anything.

  Silene's own tail shot out and smacked the young apprentice across the back of the head. "Stop touching me like that. It's making my scales crawl."

  The poor youth cowed, bowing her head low. "My apologies, my queen. I did not mean to offend."

  The older dragon pushed away from the wall she had been leaning against and hobbled over to the pair. "Now, Silene, no need to be so nasty. She is only trying to help."

  The queen glared at the yellow dragon, but all she received in return was a knowing smirk. "You are supposed to be helping me, Ylda. You are the Hand of Life, after all."

  Ylda cocked her head at Silene. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, child. You know I am growing old and must train someone up to be the Hand in my place. Lanissa is a perfectly capable young dragon and you need to stop being so rude to her. She is doing just fine, and you know it. Some day she will be Alys's Hand, and you will need to show your daughter that she can trust Lanissa and not treat her as if she were incompetent."

  Silene curled her lips over her teeth in a mock snarl, but nodded an unspoken apology to the younger dragon. Lanissa swung her head around momentarily and straightened with an excited look in her eyes. She leaned in close to Silene, resting her head on the queen's jaw, a sign of affection and encouragement

  "One more big push, ma'am. You can do this."

  With a grunt, Silene pushed, swinging her head to the side. They all heard a pop behind them as the blue head flew back into place. She knocked the smaller dragon in nose, sending the youth tumbling back onto her flank. Ylda scowled at the queen and shook her head, but said nothing as the other dragon picked herself up off the floor. Instead, she turned to the opalescent object that lay rocking at the back of Silene's large cushion. The color of the dragon inside could often be determined by the colors diffracting on the surface of their shell, but the reds, blues, and blacks that mingled on this shell told Ylda nothing of the creature inside.

  "Is he safe?" Silene spun around, ignoring the blood dripping from Lanissa's nose.

  Ylda leaned over, placing an ear to the hard shell. Her keen hearing told her that the dragon inside was breathing comfortably, faring far better than his mother and her raspy, labored breaths.

  "He is fine." She cocked an eyebrow at her queen. "And why are you so certain that it is a boy?"

  Silene rolled her eyes. "Sigurd."

  Ylda laughed. "Of course. The king is compassionate, telepathic, telekinetic, and somehow can tell the gender of his children before they are even hatched. I suspect he has talents we do not yet know of. "

  ***

  Sigurd paced in the hall outside the room where his mate was laying. Roland, the two Hidden, and three Gypsies from the northern camp stood in a corner well away from his lashing tail. The dragon was always nervous when she laid, but this time was different. This egg, this hatchling, could be the savior for the future. Losses were coming swift and sure as the weeks passed and the certainty of defeat was looming darkly in front of him. He knew his end was near. He could never submit to Aron; he would never submit. He would die first, and that possibility was becoming more likely as Aron's forces grew closer.

  Black River would be the last stand. It was well fortified and had never fallen. He only hoped that they would be able to hold out long enough to force Aron to settle. The Black River itself made an excellent dividing line, cutting off the castle and its grounds from the rest of Layr on the edge nestled close to the mountainous border. His people could retreat to the place and make new homes for themselves, biding their time un
til they could rise again.

  The door banged open, drawing Sigurd from his hopeful thoughts. The young Lanissa stood beaming at him. He rushed past her to his mate's side.

  "Are you alright?" He brushed a clawed hand over her sweating brow as she reclined on the cushion, panting.

  "Yes, yes, I'm fine, as always."

  Sigurd smiled at Silene's dismal of his concern, despite the weariness and pain still evident on her face. He glanced to the small cushion that had been placed beside her. The colors of the egg swirled in the firelight in a mesmerizing dance. He peered closer, trying to determine the breed of his youngest child, but the reds, blues, and blacks mingled together in an unrevealing pattern.

  Snorting, he stood back and looked at those who had followed him in before turning to his queen. "Are you ready, my love?"

  She nodded, but he could see the tears welling in her eyes. For all intents and purposes, she was about to give away her child. Ylda finished cleaning the egg off and the Gypsies and Hidden stepped forward. They surrounded the cushion, the Gypsies kneeling on it beside the egg as the Hidden stood behind them. The Gypsies clasped hands, chanting in a language Sigurd did not understand. The egg glowed as the colors began to pulse in time with the chanting.

  Sigurd watched with apprehension, his jaw clenched tightly. The Gypsies used this method on occasion to preserve dead bodies for various reasons, but it had never been used on a live dragon egg. He feared for his child and cursed himself silently for even agreeing to the idea as the chanting grew rapid and high-pitched.

  As the Gypsies' voices reached an ear-piercing crescendo, they suddenly stopped, silent and unmoving. Sigurd started toward them, convinced that the worst had happened. With a low booming rumble, the Gypsies broke their circle and settled back onto their heels, breathing heavily. One of them raised their eyes to him.