Hundreds of thousands of Chaos soldiers stood side by side with mere humans. Amber’s forces were arrayed in an arc before them, a golden army of Knights and horses, centaurs and horned beasts, heroes and fools readying to defend their Queen and Realm. I ached at the beauty of it, I despaired at the horror that was sure to come. I saw the King on a small black horse surrounded by his Guard and his brothers at his side.
The King Merlin stood apart, circled by his demon friends and other soldiers, by black men that looked like stone sculptures, by Magicians and spell casters.
As my shadow flew over them, they looked up and their faces blanched. Merlin shouted. A score of Wyverns launched and attacked me, buzzing annoying gnats that I involuntarily knocked out of the air. Their bites when they had managed to connect were like pesky flea bites. One got lucky and snagged the tender bit of skin between my back legs on the inner thigh. I roared and whipped my head around, belched and fire shot from the back of my open mouth scorching the unfortunate creature into a greasy puff of smoke.
I gagged and Jurt aimed me at the forefront of Random’s army, I felt a massive buildup in my stomach and as he lowered my head by wrenching at both reins, I spewed fire down on ranks of mounted men.The screaming was terrible.
Horses and people scattered as dozens went up in flames. The cries of men and dying animals cut me to the bone. Men burned so brightly, were gone in a charred flash. Jurt banked me, my wing dipping low enough to sweep an entire phalanx off their mounts in a tangle of broken bones.
A bomb burst on my ass and I whipped around, tucking my tail between my legs to spot a familiar figure hurling magic bombs at me. Merlin was fighting with the power of his spells and Jurt grinned as he lifted me above the King.
“Hi, Bro,” he yelled down and I saw Merlin’s eyes widen, his mouth dropped in astonishment.
“Jurt?” he questioned and left himself wide open as the Master raked my left side causing me to drop my left leg with its eight inch scimitar claws gouging deep scars in the soil and bedrock where Merlin stood. My wings beat hard enough to nearly topple him. The smells of blood and men gagged my sensitive nose. I recognized the King’s scent, he smelled of lightning and sharp breezes. He recovered with a muttered spell that sucked the air out from under my wings. I fell like a two ton stone. Seconds before we collided with the dirt, a whole host of soldiers in dark green uniforms raised their lances up, the Master blew a hurricane under me and I soared upwards and northwards. The Lancers tossed their weapons, most missed as my wings and the hurricane force winds took me higher. Several hit my belly and bounced off the diamond hard scales. I caught the others in my talons and heaved them back at the ground, wincing as I speared three at a time.
No matter how hard I tried, I could not shake the bastard off me, the bit in my mouth had some kind of magic that forced me to obey him even without the pain.
Fire lashed at my side and Merlin unleashed another bombshell of magic. It licked at my scales and froze them. Suddenly, I weighed more than dragon aerodynamics could cope with. We started to nose dive, the harder I beat my wings, all forty feet of them, the faster I fell. I was so cold. The Master screamed at me and jerked my head around to my ass and held my mouth open until flame belched from it to melt the ton of ice on my wings and lower body. I bounced up with the sudden lightening and pulled a loop that the g-forces nailed him with, crushing him against my shoulder blades. I ran into a volley of arrows and crossbow bolts, several bit deep into my chest and hurt. I screamed and before the sound echoed back to me, black figures buzzed me, drawing scarlet lines upon my scales.
I swatted at them with my tail, connected with two and screeched when the barb bounced off stone not flesh. Banking, furious, I turned on these creatures without direction from the Master, my forelegs reaching. Caught one and squeezed, useless against what I thought was flesh and was clearly stone. Flying stone figures.
“Gargoyles!” the Master shouted. “Not Chaos or Pattern magic! Fly!”
I was no longer was capable of human speech but I thought in my head with disgust, ‘What do you think I’m doing, asshole?’ Reached out with my back feet and took the imprisoned gargoyle from my front legs throwing it as far as I could. Watched it sail a mile or more from the battlefield and hit a huge oak tree where it shattered into pebbles. Soared over Random’s standard and pulled the bolts from my chest with a wrench that almost unseated him. Blood, thick and blue arched to the ground and splattered both human and their allies. I saw men dipping their weapons in it, I saw the Master’s shock troops meet head on with Amber’s cavalry. Saw horses fall and men on both sides die. I bellowed in anguish, the Master forced me to spiral so that he could see the entire battle. He shouted orders to his Generals and advanced an entire command to Random’s flanks.
To the right of the cavalry was an odd unit, a group of men in orange near a machine that looked suspiciously like cannon. To my utter amazement, they rammed round stones into the barrel, aimed and let fly. In an explosion of orange smoke, fire balls approached me with a whistle, stopped in mid air to become objects like a child’s jumping jack. I back-flapped, spread my wings as it exploded. Spines shot out of it, pierced my wings which became lead weights. Shredded them to lace threads, I couldn’t fly and began my descent to the ground stunned.
“Shit!” the Master yelled. “Corwin found that powder that explodes in Amber! Pull up, you useless pile of scales!”
I couldn’t, my wings were lacerated into lace, my head filled with noise and confusion. Even with him pronouncing spell after spell, I still plummeted to the ground. Landed on four shaking legs like a cat but my head hit one of the cannons, crushing operator, gun and the animals used to haul it. Laid there stunned as the Master spelled a protection spell when he leapt off to attack those on the ground still capable of fighting. A division of Demon and Pike men covered his back as his Generals ordered a charge.
“Get up,” he ordered as he kicked me in the ribs. “Get up,” he cursed. “You might not be able to fly but you can still fight. You take Merlin down and I’ll go after Corwin,” he ordered, drawing his sword.
The gargoyles landed and engaged him, distracting his attention from me. A man in an officer’s uniform shouted for his men to charge and I was fighting for my life against men on foot with long spears and axes. I could ignore those with swords, their blades were too small, thin and flexible to puncture an organ or dragon hide but the lances were deadly. I elbowed, smacked, clawed and butted my head and neck through their ranks. Skewered more than a few with my tail. It must have been poisonous, even the slightest scratch sent the humans to a screaming death.
We fought until piles of dead surrounded us, until blood ran red under my feet and the smell pounded in my nostrils. I went mad with blood lust, and only came back to myself when one of the last standing near me was the King, Merlin and the Master. They fought a duel with blades, interspersed with spells, a danse macabre of death, a ballet of blood.
I threw the last half of the man I’d torn apart to watch the challenge, ignoring the rest of the battle lines still going. It looked as if the Master’s side was in the lead; I saw no sign of Random’s standard or his personal guard. He was fighting on foot.
Just as I saw the Master lunge for Merlin, a giant on a black beast of a horse charged us, a long pike in his arms, twelve foot if it was an inch. It was aimed at me yet all I had eyes for was the Thrid creeping up on Merlin’s unsuspecting rear. I leapt and Julian’s Morgenstern caught my tail as the Thrid’s blade intersected my neck instead of Merlin’s back. His blade went clear through and out the other side. I screamed and blew a blast of dragon-fire that burned the despicable creature in its tracks just as Julian’s lance pierced me through the chest and out behind my left wing pinning me to the ground. I cried out in mortal agony for help and the Master took off without a backwards glance laughing, leaving me to the tender mercy of the warriors.
Merlin reached up and yanked the reins, pulling my head down flat on the ground so Julian could whack off my head. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see it happen. In truth, I didn’t believe I could have stopped his stroke if I wanted to, I was weak from blood loss and the horror of what I had done. Before a scant five minutes since I’d been abandoned by the Master, Amber’s men were tying me with chains and magic, a muzzle and dragging me forwards with a harness of horses who were terrified of my form. I struggled just long enough for the twelve foot lance in my chest to fracture as one of the gargoyles pulled it out. Blood spurted in a stream thicker than a man’s arm. Thick, copious amounts. In a lovely shade of blue.
“It’s dying,” Merlin said grimly. “And I saw Jurt. With Werewandir. That bridle controls the beast.”
Corwin said, “Merlin, I saw it take out a Thrid at your back. It could have avoided the lance if it hadn’t jumped for the blade aimed at you.”
“You saying it helped me?” he gaped.
“I’m saying maybe it was forced to fight for Jurt, like Raven was,” he said.
Raven was? I thought. Did that mean they thought I was dead? Was I Raven, Corbel or the Blackbird? The Master had left me to die. I sighed and with my muzzle bound, it came out as a snuff of sulfur tainted air.
“What do you wait for, Sir Julian?” One of the soldiers demanded. “Slay the beast!”
“It’s not wholly dragon,” Merlin said. “It’s in its demon form and Jurt wouldn’t have been riding it if it wasn’t an important officer. We can question him when he reverts. He must know where Vialle is being held.”
Merlin recited the spell and tingles of magic electricity traveled up and down my form yet I did not change. Corwin shouted as a mass of Thrid and Wyverns rushed their small group from behind me.
“Leave it!” Random shouted. “Retreat!” Julian reached down and hauled the king atop the giant horse, pivoted and galloped off. Merlin threw me one last glance and disappeared with Corwin as Thrid clambered over me.
The sounds of a rout merged into that of a retreat. I lay in a widening pool of blood midst the dead and dying. Hours passed and the sky darkened as the battlefield quieted.
My inner furnace chilled but I wasn’t dead yet. The sights and sounds of the fight had become faint, my heartbeat was as slow as the beat of the earth’s.
Scavengers picked the field, Thrid officers because they had the guts to finish off the wounded and because they delighted in eating the almost dead. They hooted and ran when they saw me, as if dragon was a particularly tasty treat. I was able to raise my head and threaten them and not being the smartest creatures on the flat, was able to intimidate them enough to make them detour around me. At least until the sun set.
Smoke puffed from my nostrils, the only sign of heat in the darkness. No one wandered the field, after dark was when the coyotes and jackals came out, I heard the howls of wolves and other beasts, heard them snuffing as they ate their way to gluttony. The night was long and lonely. The pain from my wounds kept me flattened to the ground, unable to move. Whenever I tried to crawl, I made no more than inches in progress forward.
In the morning, the first thing I saw was the Master staring down at me from the back of a big bay stallion who reared and pawed the ground wanting to attack me. He jerked the heavy spade bit and forced the stud back to the ground. He was dressed in battle armor and had Random’s standard tied to his gauntlets. “So, you’re still alive, my Blackbird,” he said studying the lake of blue around me. “I thought Merlin or perhaps Corwin would have taken your head by now. Oh, what joy to be able to tell my brother he slew his own son.”
He dismounted and danced around me, poking me with his sword. Its bite was harsh but nothing compared to the agony when he slid the sharp steel into the hole left by the broken lance. “Almost pierced your heart, Corbel,” he said gaily. “Shall I finish the job and show you mercy?”
Bastard. As if he knew what mercy was. He slashed and the chains fell off me, he wrenched at the reins and pulled my head up staring into my dulled eyes. Cut off the muzzle. “Get up, dragon and follow me,” he ordered and such was the power of his magic that I could only obey, dragging my broken and bloodied body behind him.