47

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The dragons trotted up the final stretch of slope as we reached the summit of the pass. Behind us, Dagmar led the combined cavalry of Avalon, Mersylvan and Penwyn. Gromlik and his Hundred Companions brought up the rear.

  The wagons, weighed down with infantry and supplies, were probably two hours behind us. A chill breeze was blowing from the valley below us as we crested the final ridge. It carried the stench of a dying army: charred meat, smoke, and the copper tang of blood.

  The scene below us was grim. The North Road sloped down the pass to a long flat area before hitting a slight rise at the far end of the little valley where it disappeared.

  Below us, looming next to the road, Haltrock Castle was a vision of grim defiance. It truly was the Granite Heart of the north—a fortress not merely built on the mountain, but carved directly into its jagged, black shoulder. Its dark granite towers were soot-stained and crumbling, and the great South Gate lay in splinters, a victim of the trolls’ relentless boulders.

  Smoke poured from the inner bailey, rising in thick, greasy coils that threatened to choke the very sky. I saw the remains of a Brown Dragon near the breach, its wings tattered and its golden blood staining the grey shale. I spotted the green laying on the ground behind the Tallwyn line. I couldn’t tell if the dragon was alive or dead.

  Only two of the Duchess’s dragons remained in the sky, circling frantically as they tried to avoid the trolls’ reach.

  The Duchess’s army was arrayed on the lower part of the hill in front of us. Their supply wagons had been pushed over to form a rough barricade on either flank. Between the Duchess’s troops and the castle stood the goblin army.

  I could see the goblin commander had split his army into two groups. The main force, supported by three armored trolls, was attacking the castle. A smaller group with two trolls was attacking the Duchess’s force.

  The breeze carried the sound of the battle raging below us. It was a discordant symphony of slaughter. The reverberating beat of the armored trolls’ clubs echoed off the mountain walls. Above it rose the high-pitched, frenzied shrieking of hundreds of goblins and the desperate, ragged shouts of men fighting for their last breath.

  "Gods," Yvette whispered beside me, her knuckles white on Garryn’s reins. My mind hastily analyzed the tactical situation.

  Duchess Miranda’s army, once a proud force of blue and gold, was being squeezed into a narrow funnel against the mountain slopes. They were a thin, bleeding line of steel holding back a tide of green-skinned monsters. The dragons, one black and one blue, glided above them.

  As I watched, an armored troll lunged forward, its iron-plated bulk ignoring the crossbow bolts as it smashed its club into a pair of Tallwyn soldiers. The Tallwyn dragons dove to intercept it. The blue created a misty fog around the troll’s head while the black dragon swooped in, raking it with its claws. The troll hastily retreated and the dragons landed behind their line, chests heaving with exhaustion.

  The goblins were content to harass the Duchess’s army. If the Tallwyn’s soldiers couldn’t reach the castle, it would soon fall. Once Haltrock fell, the goblins could focus all their attention on her force.

  The outer walls were already a ruin of shattered stone, and the great gate was a jagged wreck of splinters. The trolls were assaulting the keep’s main door. It was a war of attrition, and Miranda was losing.

  "They’re dying down there," Monica said, her voice tight with a warrior’s anger. Bakaan let out a low, vibrating growl that mirrored her anger.

  “Lead the charge, my king, and we will break these devils!” Petal raised her mace into the sky. She was riding behind her father on his brown dragon.

  I didn't waste another second. I turned to my dragon riders, the wind whipping my cloak against Graxion's scales. “We will do as we planned last night. The dragons will use the same strategy as Nander’s Pass.”

  My eyes found my ground commanders. “Dagmar, Gromlik—you will take your soldiers and bolster the Tallwyn line. Try to stay clear of the trolls.”

  The Dwarven commander nodded grimly. “My elven archers will pluck the eyes out of those tall bastards.”

  “Yvette, Sarah—you and the greens see what you can do to help the Tallwyn wounded. Logak, Clark, and Marco take your dragons and harass the goblins outside of the castle wall. Monica and I will hit the ones inside.”

  “What about me?” Liam spoke. He could barely constrain his rage as he stared at the battlefield.

  I looked at the former boar hunter. "Liam, find their leader. At Nander’s Pass he was somewhere in the rear of the battle. But stay in the sky until I give the word. Do you understand?"

  I was gambling that Liam wouldn’t do anything rash and get himself killed. Liam gave a curt, jagged nod, his knuckles white as they gripped the straps of Dalk’s saddle.

  The sea-dragon was shifting restlessly, her aquamarine scales clashing with the grey shale. "Noree, are you sure you and Kiyomari’s singing will confuse the trolls?”

  Kiyomari answered for them. “The song of the children of the water disorients wild creatures of the deep. The trolls are barely civilized and they will be affected, if not as much as wild creatures."

  My voice was stern as I met Noree’s gaze. “Harass the trolls, but keep your distance.If one of those monsters gets a grip on Kiyomari's wing, I can't reach you in time."

  Kiyomari gave me a toothy grin. “It will be like hunting giant squid.”

  “I don’t want you hunting the trolls yet. Just keep them distracted.”

  Noree smiled. “Don’t worry, Roman, mother will hide us in mist.”

  Countess Sizuna, seated regally atop her blue dragon, arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow at me.

  "A touching sentiment for your wife, Roman," the Countess remarked, her voice dripping with dry sarcasm. "But I notice a distinct lack of concern for your mother-in-law’s safety. Should I assume you’ve already picked out which of my tapestries you'll be inheriting if a troll decides to use me as a footstool?"

  I didn't have time to argue. "Just stay in the air, Sizuna."

  The bard trotted his horse closer. He eyed the battle raging below us before turning to me. “Raise your sword high, King Roman!”

  “Why?”

  Kashko’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Because you will look more heroic. And it will make for a better tale.”

  I drew my sword, the steel singing as it caught the pale mountain sunlight. “Graxion, let them know we are here!”

  The great red dragon didn't need a second command. He drew in a breath and then he let out a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the mountains. One by one, the other nine dragons joined him.

  The wall of sound hit the valley like a physical blow. Below us, the goblin chanting died instantly. The trolls stumbled, their massive heads turning towards the pass in slow, stupid confusion. The human soldiers looked over their soldiers, first in confusion and then with hope.

  Standing tall in the stirrups, I turned to my soldiers. “For Avalon!” I shouted the first thing that popped into my mind.

  Taking that as their cue, my dragonriders launched into the sky. I sat down heavily in the saddle, nearly losing my grip on the sword. “Graxion, next time give me a warning when you are taking off!”

  Graxion laughed. “No time, Roman. The battle rages and there are goblins to be slaughtered!”

  Graxion and Bakaan wheeled towards Haltrock Castle as my cavalry poured through the pass and down the hill.

  “Remeber,” I yelled towards Monica. “If we kill the goblins, the trolls have no one to open the doors for."

  ***

  Queen Yvette Pendrak

  Garryn and Ezza landed near the Tallwyn dragons. The Tallwyn dragons’ heads were drooping as their chests heaved. Both had gashes on their bodies and arrows protruding from their scales. Injured and dying soldiers were laid out on the nearby ground as other soldiers with less grievous wounds tended to their wounds.

  A dozen heavily armored soldiers rushed to stand between them and the Duchess. They pointed their spears threateningly towards Yvetta and Sarah.

  Yvette could see that both of the Talwyn dragons had female riders. The one in the black’s saddle had to be Duchess Miranda.

  The Duchess pulled off her helmet as she glared at the newcomers. “Who are you? Have you come to help us—or finish us off!”

  Yvette’s voice was calm. The raven-haired duchess looked exhausted. She could forgive the lack of cutesy considering the stress of the battle raging around them. “I am Queen Yvette Pendrak of Avalon. King Roman is here to save Tallwyn.”

  The Duchess laughed. “Ha! Here to save it for himself!”

  The Queen’s blue eyes met Miranda’s brown. “Would you rather we leave you to the goblins and trolls.”

  “This is no time to argue, Miranda! Our army can barely stand upright!” The blue rider’s voice was desperate. The Tallwyn dragons’ heads were drooping as their chests heaved. Both had gashes on their bodies and arrows protruding from their scales.

  Miranda glared at the other woman and then she glanced at the Avalonian Cavalry that was almost upon them. Her voice was cold and resigned as she turned to Yvette. “Very well, cousin, we are at your mercy. You are healers?”

  “Yes, Lady Sarah and I are healers.”

  “We have many wounded–” Miranda began and then stopped as a mysterious melody drifted across the battlefield.

  Everyone glanced towards the sky as Kiyomari and Noree sang their wordless song. It was an eerie sound. The hairs on Yvette’s neck stood up.

  As they watched, Countess Sizuna, astride Tamlin, circled the two nearby trolls. A dense mist formed around them. It was a magic fog that remained at the level of the creature’s head and shoulders.

  The trolls roared in frustration and fear as the song confused their minds while the mist obscured their vision.

  “What are they doing?” Miranda asked as she watched the dragons in action.

  “Buying us time,” Yvette said as she dismounted.

  48

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Graxion’s wings snapped open to arrest our plummet, the sheer pressure of the dive turning into a roaring gale. Following the strategy that had saved Nander’s Pass, we ignored the three massive, iron-clad trolls hammering at the keep’s curtain wall for the moment. Instead, we focused on the sea of green flesh supporting them. Without the goblin "handlers" and infantry to swarm the breaches, the trolls were merely slow-moving siege engines.

  "Now, Monica!" I shouted, the wind whipping the words from my mouth as Graxion banked hard. The great red dragon drew in a breath that made his chest plates expand like a forge’s bellows.

  As the panicked goblins desperately fired arrows at us, Graxion unleashed a stream of concentrated, incandescent fire. The flames didn't just burn; they roared through the inner bailey with the force of a volcanic eruption. Goblin flesh instantly burned and blackened from the fire’s blast. Those further from the impact were thrown back by the sheer concussive heat that shimmered off the dark granite walls.

  Beside us, Bakaan was a shadow made of malice and wind. The black dragon beat his massive wings in a synchronized, violent rhythm, creating localized whirlwinds that acted like vacuum cleaners for the battlefield. These vortexes sucked up the loose shale, shattered timbers, and screaming goblins, spinning them into a chaotic blender of debris.

  The pair of dragons skimmed over the ruined castle wall as they climbed into the sky again. As we banked into a 180 degree curve, I saw Bakaan glance toward me, his yellow eyes narrowing as he sensed the surge of adrenaline and grim determination radiating from me. Even if I couldn't hear his thoughts, the way he angled his body to follow Graxion told me he was perfectly in tune with my intent.

  While the red dragon blasted the goblins with more fire, Bakaan unleashed a massive whirlwind. He beat his wings once more, sending the funnel of wind into the heart of Graxion’s inferno, effectively turning a localized fire into a raging firestorm that scoured the courtyard. The goblins that had survived our first pass screamed in agony.

  As Graxion wheeled back into the sky, I caught flashes of the broader struggle across the valley. The ground between the castle and the Duchess was a chaotic tapestry of earth-toned scales and flashing steel.

  I saw Logak, Clark, and Marco diving low over the North Road. Nangar, Marco’s stone dragon, was a blur of physical power, his massive tail swinging like a scythe through the goblin reserves as he landed among them.

  His scales could be enhanced even more than the rock dragon’s. The stone dragon was a four-legged tank; he simply plowed through their ranks, his heavy weight crushing bone and scattering the green-skinned monsters like leaves in a gale.

  Behind the Tallwyn line I caught a glimpse of Garryn and Ezza, though I was too far to make out Yvette. I prayed that the Tallwyn soldiers would hold until we drove the goblins from the castle.

  Graxion turned into another dive and I focused on the castle courtyard. More goblins were pouring through the shattered gates.

  With a crash that shook the ground, the curtain wall collapsed as one of the trolls pulled part of the masonry down. Graxion and Bakaan blasted the goblins again in a desperate attempt to keep them from reaching the keep.

  As we wheeled through the sky again, I caught the sound of a strange melody. I could barely hear it over the roar of the wind and the din of battle. If anything, I was feeling the sound more than hearing it.

  I scanned the battle and witnessed a surreal sight unfolding. Near the Duchess’s embattled line, I could see Countess Sizuna had blanketed the two trolls' upper bodies in a thick, unnatural fog. The unnatural mist was a swirling, luminescent white that seemed to cling to the trolls’ iron plating.

  The sound I heard was the song of the children of the water. Noree’s voice, amplified by Kiyomari’s resonance, wasn't a melody; it was a vibrating, dissonant thrum that made my teeth hurt. To the trolls, whose tiny brains were already struggling with the sensory deprivation of the fog, it was pure madness.

  The two giants stumbled through the mist, their massive clubs swinging blindly.

  "They are going mad!" Monica yelled from Bakaan’s back as they banked beside me.

  I watched as the first troll, confused by a sudden high-pitched trill from Kiyomari, spun around. It saw a looming shape in the mist. Confusing it for a dragon, the troll let out a guttural roar and smashed his club into the other troll’s iron-plated shoulder.

  The second troll, already enraged by the piercing song, didn't hesitate. He swung his tree trunk club, catching the first troll square in the chest. The sound of iron crumpling under the force of the blow echoed across the valley.

  Driven into an angry rage, the two trolls dropped their clubs as they bit and clawed at each other. They had done it! Noree, Sizuna, and their dragons had temporarily taken those two trolls out of the battle!

  "Roman! Look at the keep!" Monica’s scream cut through my triumph.

  I looked down. While we had decimated the infantry in the bailey, one of the three trolls at the castle had finally succeeded. The keep’s main door—the last line of defense for the survivors—shattered under a final, titanic blow.

  Goblins mounted on boars poured into the courtyard through the broken gate. Green skinned warriors that had survived the dragon fire howled with bloodlust and rushed into the keep as the trolls stepped aside.

  "The doors are gone!" I shouted. "We have to get down there!"

  ***

  Rend Bonebreaker

  Rend Bonebreaker stood atop the ridge, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his jagged blade. The air, once filled with the sweet promise of victory, was now heavy with the metallic tang of dragon fire and the screams of his incinerated warriors.

  Twelve of them.

  The knucklebones had lied. The prisoners had lied. The great red beast from Nander’s Pass hadn't stayed in the east; it had brought a nightmare to his doorstep.

  Rend watched in a cold, mounting fury as the red and black dragons turned the castle courtyard into a slaughterhouse. His carefully unified horde was breaking; the Night-Stalkers and Stone-Crushers warriors already looking toward the ridge for a way out.

  "Great One," his sub-chief stammered, his single ear twitching in terror. "The sky is full of fire. We must pull back! The trolls are killing each other, and the warriors are burning!"

  Rend turned, his snarl revealing a row of yellowed, broken teeth. He cuffed the smaller goblin, knocking him off his boar. "Retreat? I will see this cursed fortress broken before I quit this field!"

  "But the dragons—" the sub-chief rolled to his knees and bowed his head, torn between his fear of the dragons and the dread of further angering Rend.

  "Send the reserve boar riders to the keep!" Rend roared, pointing his blade at the castle. "Tell them to flood the halls with blood. The humans will remember this day as the day Haltrock was finally broken. Do it now, or I will rip the arms from your body and feed them to your own mount!"

  The sub-chief scurried away, and moments later, a fresh wave of boar-mounted warriors surged toward the shattered gate. Rend watched them go, his chest heaving. Below, a troll roared triumphantly. A chorus of high-pitched, bloodthirsty howls erupted from his warriors in the courtyard.

  A surge of bloodlust surged through the goblin chief’s veins. His warriors had broken through the last door. The castle that had never fallen was finally being violated.

  Rend exulted, a jagged laugh escaping his throat. "There," he hissed to his elite bodyguards. "See? The rock still breaks!"

  His guards began to cheer, their wicked blades raised in triumph. But the sound was abruptly cut short as a massive, suffocating shadow swept over the ridge.

  Rend looked up, his eyes widening as a wall of brown scales and leathery wings blotted out the sun. It wasn't the Red King. It was a brown-scaled Rock-Stalker—and it was diving straight towards them!