Legacy of Steel Page 28

  Sara looked startled. "How do you know that?"

  "I see lots of things," he said mysteriously. He tugged on her pants leg and led her down the street toward the outskirts of the city.

  "I know you fight again," Fewmet said, his tone serious. "Last time you fight bad knight I tell you something. I see fight. I see you knock bad knight down. What I told you helped."

  "Yes. Yes, it did," Sara responded thoughtfully. What was he leading up to? she wondered.

  The gully dwarf took her past the main gates and toward the open fields near the Red Quarter. His stumpy legs had to take three strides to her one, but he trotted gamely beside her and continued to talk breathlessly.

  "People pay small attention to gully dwarves," Fewmet went on. "We get kicked or hit or people drive us away sometimes. Most times they not know we are there. We see many things." He looked at her sideways through his greasy forelock. "I see general fight. She is good. She is best. But her dragon hurt long ago. His right wing is not strong."

  Sara stared at him as the information sank in. "Fewmet, if I survive this battle, would you like to come with me to Solace? You can leave this city and come where people will appreciate you."

  He broke into a cackling laugh. "People not appreciate me anywhere. Only you have been nice to Fewmet. I have never left city. I would not know what to do in strange place. Thank you, Sara. Dragon over there. Fight well." He sketched a bow and trotted away.

  Sara watched him go and sent a silent blessing after him. Perhaps it was for the best. She couldn't imagine how she would have convinced Cobalt to carry a gully dwarf.

  She found the blue dragon waiting for her near the ring of tents. He crouched on the ground, his head held high to look out for her, his tail twitching with agitation. As soon as he saw her, he lumbered toward her. Steam curled from his nostrils, and his yellow eyes burned like fire.

  "Be patient, you said," he hissed at her. "Be patient. That was all! If I had not overheard that rat dung, Treb, tell everyone all about the trial, I would have torn the city apart looking for you."

  "And been killed by the other dragons for your pains," she said. She tugged his head down and hugged his neck, then scratched his ears soothingly. "I would have gotten a message to you if I could, but they put me in a dungeon cell until just a little while ago."

  "I know," he grumbled. "Treb said—" The dragon paused, and his eyes burned whiter in anger. "She's had the others arrested, all but Kazar."

  Sara did not indulge in any exclamations of anger or curse words heaped on Treb's head. Anything she could say now would be a waste of effort. But her anger ignited to a slow burn and began to build within her like a fire-storm about to erupt. "Do you know where they are?" she asked between clenched teeth.

  "They're in camp, under guard. They're to stay in their tents until after the battle. Then Treb intends to take them before the adjudicator for violations of the Code." Cobalt lifted his lips in a draconian sneer. "Before we leave here, I would like to eat her liver."

  "All that bile would probably give you indigestion," Sara said. "We will deal with her later." She hesitated before broaching her next question. Dragons could be haughty at times, and they preferred to work with their riders as partners or allies. Sometimes they refused to fight if it did not suit their purposes. If Cobalt was not willing to fight in this trial, she could be in a real predicament. After a moment's consideration, she asked, "So Treb mentioned the trial by battle?"

  "Yes."

  "Did she say it is on dragonback?"

  "Yes."

  She tilted an eyebrow and looked up at his reptilian face. "You're not making this easy for me."

  He tilted his nose up and looked smugly down at her. "Serves you right for scaring me like that."

  Sara laughed. "True enough. Will you fight with me?"

  For an answer, he turned sideways so she could see his dragonsaddle. The two-man saddle she had used to go to Solace with Derrick and had ridden back was gone. In its place was a one-rider fighting saddle fashioned of lightweight wood and leather and fully accoutred with a rider's lance, a shield, and a crossbow. A breastplate and a helm hung from the saddle's straps.

  Pleased, Sara ran a hand over the armor. It was old and well worn, but someone had taken the time to polish it and replace the straps with new ones. Best of all, it was unadorned. It did not bear the hateful death lily or any of the emblems of the dark knighthood.

  "Who helped you?" Sara asked.

  "General Abrena," Cobalt answered briefly. Sara looked so startled that he elaborated. "The general wishes this to be a fair battle. She wants to kill you in a matched fight, not in an execution. A matter of pride."

  Sara did not ask more. She knew Mirielle enough to know she could trust the weapons and armor provided for her.

  Swiftly she donned the armor and was glad to see it fit well enough. She pulled the fighting helm over her silver hair. It was nearly noon.

  Before she mounted Cobalt, she paused and touched the star jewel hanging on its chain against the metal breastplate. In the past, before the Second Cataclysm, she had been in the habit of saying a prayer or two to Paladine when she felt in need. Even after the gods' departure, when she had felt empty and bereft, she had prayed in the hope they would hear her somehow. But after that night in the Tomb of the Last Heroes, she no longer felt the need to petition a vanished god. She had found a strength in herself, a cause to believe in. It did not make a difference to her how Steel had come or who had sent him. The only thing that was important to her was that he had come, and he had left her his token so she would know his love would always be with her.

  Sara climbed to Cobalt's back and drew her sword. This battle she was about to fight was not just to save her life. It was also the first test of the validity of her vision. The Legion of Steel was going forth to face its first real challenge, and if it was to survive, she would have to emerge victorious.

  Cobalt spread his great wings and took to the sky. He winged south, skirting the inside edge of the tent ring, and flew over the city wall and into the Arena of Death. The sand floor of the arena was empty, which Sara expected. The haughty governor-general would certainly want to make her own entrance.

  The seats of the arena were crowded again, and hawkers were doing a thriving business in the stands. A few groups cheered Sara; many more jeered her.

  She instructed Cobalt to land at one end of the oval. He descended with a roar and a rush of wings that sent dust swirling into the stands and crowds of people rushing back from the wall.

  The dust raised during Cobalt's landing had barely settled when a shout went up from the audience and a large shadow passed swiftly over the arena. At half speed, Mirielle's dragon, Cerium, circled around and cruised over the arena a second time. Every eye was upon him. Coming in to land across from Cobalt, he beat his wings and stirred up a great cloud of dust and sand that whirled through the arena.

  Sara clapped a handful of sleeve over her nose and mouth. She could hear Mirielle laughing. When the dust settled, Sara finally had a close look at the veteran dragon who bore the governor-general.

  Cerium was a mature male, slightly larger than Cobalt at more than forty-eight feet in length, and bulky, with bulging muscles. His thick horns were the color of polished steel, and his hide was an iron blue. He stamped his powerful forelimbs and dug out great gouges of dirt with his claws. His scaly frill flared out around his wedge-shaped head to show off his fearsomeness. His roar shook the arena.

  Cobalt was not impressed. He returned the challenge with a roar of his own. His tail lashed back and forth in fury, and his own spiked frill flared around his head. His horns stood straight out from his head.

  Sara raised her sword in salute to Mirielle. The general returned the gesture. She then shouted to a group of staff officers waiting in the stands. They saluted and hurried to a platform, where one knight stood holding the general's black standard. At a word from an officer, the knight slowly dipped the standard toward the ground.
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  That was the signal to begin. A chorus of cheers from the crowd mingled with matching roars from the dragons to make a swelling wave of sound that crashed over the arena.

  Usually at this point in a duel, dragons cast their spells while still standing on the ground, but in a trial by battle, magic was forbidden. Cobalt and Cerium would have to rely solely on their teeth and claws, their lightning breath, their natural strength, and their riders.

  Cerium moved first. He crouched and sprang forward with unexpected agility, hoping to take the younger dragon by surprise. Cobalt reared up, taking the force of the dragon's charge against his powerful chest. His head sloughed around and he snapped at Cerium's wing, tearing the fine membrane at the tip. Forelimbs scrabbling, the dragons wrestled with tooth and claw while their riders held on frantically.

  "Go aloft!" Sara shouted. "Fly!"

  Suddenly Cobalt broke loose, swept his wings upward, and sprang into the sky. With unbelievable speed, he was airborne above the arena.

  In the blink of an eye, Cerium was after him, his massive wings lifting him rapidly after his opponent. The iron-colored blue spat a jolt of electricity that for the most part passed harmlessly under the speeding dragon. Only a tendril of energy caught Cobalt's tail and burned the scales where it struck.

  Cobalt roared his defiance. He soared quickly above Cerium, arched around, and furled his wings into a dive. Sara raised her shield as the older blue fired another bolt of lightning. The energy seared around her and rebounded off her shield. Cobalt responded with his own blast that struck Cerium on the foreleg and rocked Mirielle back in her saddle.

  Diving and darting in intricate patterns, the dragons climbed ever higher into the sky. For the most part, their riders could only hang on and try to avoid the blasts of lightning that scorched the air around them.

  Sara twisted her head back to look at Cerium and Mirielle. The older dragon definitely had more experience and endurance for this kind of battle. Cobalt had more speed and agility, but so far he was just fighting a defensive skirmish. She had to get him to take the offense.

  Sara shoved her sword in the saddle scabbard by her leg and unfastened the crossbow. It was already cocked and needed only a dart to fire. She loaded it and waited for her chance.

  "His right wing is weak," she yelled to Cobalt. "If you can get me closer, I'll try to shoot him." She could try to shoot Mirielle, and the thought was very tempting, but the dragon presented a much bigger target for a weapon inaccurate as a crossbow in midflight.

  Cobalt only grunted a reply and pivoted sharply around to pass underneath Cerium.

  The older blue sensed his danger immediately and plummeted straight toward Cobalt. Sara had only a second or two to aim the crossbow, fire the dart toward Cerium's shoulder, and duck as Cobalt furled his wings and rolled to the left out of the way of the other dragon.

  The dart must have hit something, for Cerium shrilled in pain, but it did little to slow him down. Furiously he flew after Cobalt. The younger dragon managed to lash him in the muzzle with his tail before looping around and slipping away. He circled around again and headed straight for Cerium.

  Sara could see Mirielle holding her own crossbow, but there was little she could do to disarm the general at that moment, for the other blue trumpeted his rage and charged forward at a blinding speed.

  The two dragons clashed in midair, craving for the glory of the kill. Their wings pounded each other's heads; their claws raked each other's chests and sides. Their blood mingled across their blue hides. As each strove to outdo the other, their wings became befouled, and suddenly both dragons began to plummet toward the ground.

  Calling on hidden reserves of strength, Cobalt wrenched away and spread his wings to pull himself up.

  A pain, brilliant red and agonizing, shot through Sara's leg. Taken by surprise, she clutched at a crossbow bolt buried in her thigh and screamed. Her cry of pain jolted Cobalt's attention. He jerked his head around to see his rider collapse against his neck, and in that moment of inattention, Cerium lashed out with a hot streak of lightning.

  The bolt was poorly aimed due to the rapid descent of the dragons, but some of the furious energy caught Cobalt across his haunches and lower left wing. A section of his wingsail burned to tatters. Scales melted across his back, and blood welled up through the wound. Cobalt snarled in pain and rage. Memories of another rider, another battle, filled his thoughts. This general had contributed to the death of Vincit, and now she had killed Sara.

  Pain blurred the edges of reality, and his only desire became revenge. Instead of avoiding the bigger blue, he turned into him and sank his talons into Cerium's left wing. The right was the weakest, Sara had said. It would never hold. Snapping and snarling at Cerium's head, he held on with all the strength and tenacity he could muster and furled his wings tightly against his body.

  Locked together, the two dragons tumbled like dead birds toward the ground. Cerium did not have the strength to stop his descent with an extra dragon weight fastened to his strong wing. Although he struggled frantically to tear away from Cobalt, Cerium could not escape. Cobalt seemed determined to take them all to their deaths on the frozen ground.

  Mirielle desperately hacked at Cobalt's neck with her sword, but the blade had little effect on the dragon's tough scales.

  He closed his eyes and ignored her, ignored the pain.

  Sara lay across Cobalt's neck and stared dizzily at the earth whirling up to meet them. The dragons had risen to a high altitude before beginning their fall, but that distance was rapidly melting away. If Cobalt didn't break off quickly, there would be no time to pull up. She tried feebly to move and discovered the crossbow bolt buried in her upper thigh had pinned her leg to the saddle.

  "Cobalt!" she cried. "Cobalt, let him go!"

  The blue's eyes popped open. He thought Sara was dead.

  "Cobalt!"

  The dragon responded. Summoning his last vestiges of strength, he stretched his wings out over Cerium's and dug deeply into the rushing air to slow their fall. At the same time, he wrenched his head up, pulling Cerium's wing up at a sudden and unnatural angle.

  The combined forces of the abrupt slowdown and Cobalt's weight on his wing were too much for Cerium's wing. The bone snapped near the shoulder. The dragon screeched his agony and fury. Unable to hold his weight up and sustain flight with only one wing, he plummeted toward the fields below.

  Cobalt let him go. Now he had to save himself and his rider. His own wing was tattered, and his back was badly burned from Cerium's lightning breath. His strength was nearly gone. He pumped madly to catch the air and slow his breakneck fall, but the ground was so close that he and Sara could see the people running out to the fields just outside of Neraka to see the dragons land.

  Sara held on to the saddle. The cold wind roaring by brought tears to her eyes. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Cerium twist weakly around to land on his belly and crash to the earth with crushing force. He twitched once, then lay still on the cold, frozen ground.

  Then all her attention focused on Cobalt. He flapped his wings with all his remaining might. He was still dropping at a terrifying speed, but gradually his fall slowed and his wingsails caught enough wind to bring his body to a level, controlled descent. He landed heavily on the field, crashed forward onto his chest, and slid ignominiously across the snowy ground. He came to a stop in an undignified heap. But he was alive, and he rose to his feet and shook the snow from his head and tail.

  Surprisingly, Knight Officer Morham Targonne was the first one to reach Cobalt's side. Without asking permission, he vaulted up the dragon's leg and swiftly checked Sara's condition.

  Cobalt did not complain. He was too frantic to know if she was all right.

  Sara stared blearily at the young knight. "Is the general… still alive?"

  He shot a glance at the other fallen dragon and saw Mirielle climb out of her saddle, apparently unhurt. He nodded his answer.

  "Then pull it out," Sara ordered.


  Morham looked at the bolt in Sara's leg and shook his head. "You could bleed to death," he warned.

  "Pull it out!" Sara demanded again. "I have to finish this." Technically the trial was not over until one of the opponents was dead or had surrendered.

  Morham shrugged, but he gently worked the bolt tip out of the saddle leather and, placing a booted foot against Sara's leg to hold it in place, used both hands to pull the bolt quickly and smoothly out of Sara's thigh.

  Sara bit off a scream. Clenching her teeth, she leaned into Cobalt's strong shoulder until the worst of the pain passed. Finally she gulped some air and managed to sit up. Fortunately the bleeding wasn't bad, assuring her that the bolt had not struck the large artery in her leg.

  Sara patted Cobalt's neck. "Thank you, my friend. You are one glorious dragon."

  Cobalt chuckled. "Of course."

  "Rest here. I must finish this. Then we will go." While Morham watched, Sara pulled her sword out of the saddle scabbard and climbed down Cobalt's side to the ground. She limped unsteadily toward the body of the other blue where he had slewed into the snow.

  Looking at Cerium, Sara knew he would fly no more. The dragon, in his attempt to save his rider, had broken his neck in the fall. He lay motionless in death, his color already fading.

  The people gathered around Cerium saw Sara coming and silently stood aside. With the dragons out of the fight, the battle had to be continued on foot.

  General Abrena hefted her own sword and strode forward to meet her. Her eyes glittered with the prospect of a kill. "Your dragon fights well," Mirielle shouted. "Can you do the same?"

  With a wounded leg, against a well-trained, ruthless fighter? Sara doubted it. But she thrust every vestige of fear, pain, and doubt aside and emptied her mind of everything but her enemy and the feel of the sword in her hands.

  The spectators, who had followed them from the arena, formed a large circle around the two women in the snowy field and kept up a steady chorus of cheers, jeers, opinions, and advice.