“Just this side of Salador,” said Dash quietly.
Patrick shouted, “My nation’s borders! I am standing on the wall of the capital city of the Western Realm!”
“These lands are Ancient Kesh, and are being reclaimed.”
Dash whispered, “I know we’re buying time, but why bother?”
Patrick gulped for air and nodded. Then, with his last strong breath, shouted, “Then come you on and do your worst! We reject your claim and scorn your master.”
The herald said, “Act not in haste, fair Prince. My master is kind. He shall make his offer three times. At sundown tonight we return to hear your second answer. Should you say again nay, we shall come one last time, at dawn tomorrow. And that shall be the last of it.” The herald turned and spurred his mount forward.
Dash turned to see Patrick barely conscious, still being held up by the soldier. “Bravely done, fair Prince,” Dash said without sarcasm. To the soldier he said, “Take him back to his quarters and see he rests.”
Turning to Mackey, Dash said, “Get the men down from the wall and fed. Keep a few to watch, but the Keshians will probably be as good as their word and not attack us until dawn tomorrow.” He sat down and suddenly felt bone-tired. “At least now we know when their spies inside the city will attack.” Looking at the old sergeant, he said, “They’ll try to open the gate tonight.”
The dragon sped through the sky while in the east the sun rose above the hills. The mystic energy along the coast was a map for them to follow. Tomas’s arts, the lingering heritage of the Valheru, allowed them all to ride upon Ryana’s back without falling.
“You know,” said Nakor, speaking loudly to overcome the wind noise as he sat behind Miranda at the base of the dragon’s neck, “as much as being an engine of death, this display is set to lure us to some sort of confrontation.”
Pug, who sat directly behind Tomas, said, “I expect as much.”
“There,” said Tomas, pointing down and to the left.
Below them stretched the coastline, a southwest-facing shoreline from Quester’s View to Ylith. The harbor of Ylith showed a frenzy of ships, most of them hauling anchor and sailing out of the port.
Nakor said, “Those ships’ captains didn’t like what they saw last night and are catching the morning tide out.”
“Ryana,” said Tomas, “down there.”
He indicated the eastern gate of the city, outside of which a great building had been erected, and it was that building that was the source of the energy which had flowed down the coast, fueling the evil magic that had animated the corpses.
As the dragon landed, armed men ran in all directions, uncertain of what to do. “Let me go first,” said Tomas.
Pug said, “Let’s not shed any blood until we have to.”
Miranda said, “We will have to.”
Pug said, “But until then. . .” He gestured toward the ground just before Ryana touched down. They all could see a ripple, as if water had been troubled by a stone, causing the earth to undulate. A deep rumbling could be heard and dust shot into the air following the course of the quickly expanding circle. As they touched down, the circle was now large enough to easily encompass the dragon. The soil below their feet was motionless.
But where the expanding circle’s wave struck, it was as if an earthquake raged, for each advancing soldier who stepped upon the ripple was thrown down to the ground, then mercilessly tossed into the air several times.
Many turned and fled, leaving only the bravest of the invaders to confront the dragon and her riders.
Then Ryana bellowed and their ears rang, and she shot a blast of fire into the heavens, and the rest of the soldiers fled. No sane man would face a great golden dragon.
As the four of them dismounted, Miranda said, “Thank you. That should buy us some time.”
Ryana said, “You are welcome.” To Tomas she said, “When the danger has passed, I shall leave, but until it has, call me should you need me. I will be nearby.” The dragon launched herself into the sky, and with a powerful beat of her wings was gone, speeding to the north.
Tomas walked purposefully toward the building. Pug, Miranda, and Nakor followed.
With the departure of the dragon, some of the bolder warriors near the city gate ran to intercept the four. Tomas unstrapped his shield from across his back in a movement so fluid and natural it looked impossible to Pug. No mortal man could have duplicated the feat. His sword was out before the first warrior had closed.