OathBlade (Wattys2015)

47. Culled Forces*

Elery followed Isandel down the stairs as she struggled to imagine Gaidel, the slender king she'd met only a short time ago, as such an impressive and majestic force of nature. Thinking of him as the dragon outside was a far stretch of her imagination.

Dakkan sat against the wall, holding his side and panting. The hallway lay empty of all but her small group and the single Ildaugh caster.

The battle raged outside between Gaidel, his dragons, and the enemy. Though the struggle was unseen by those within, sound alone told them that their newly-arrived allies were fighting their hardest.

Elery knelt beside Dakkan. He waved and shook his head. "Tis nothing, little seryn. Just a cut. The dragon sealed it." He snorted and his long whiskers twitched. "A lucky strike, that's all it was. No need to concern yourself."

"You will ride Ishthemir," Elery said. "I'll not have you lagging behind. Not in the tunnels." She turned away and hurried to the descending stairs. "By the time reinforcements reach us we must be ready to go. In all hopes we can enter the tunnels safely. What lies beyond remains to be seen."

The stench of blood and sweat hung heavy in the air when the group reached the foyer. The vine wall lay in shreds, scattered across the floor, smashed into the rock to leave green stains among the crimson pools all around them.

Her allies were able to take a moment's respite as something else blocked the door from the outside. It was a wall of black scales that gleamed from what few lantern stones remained on the walls.

An injured knight groaned from against his seated position near a broken lantern. "Keepin' 'em at bay only made fer more dead. We couldn't stop 'em from carryin' the corpses out. Din'it take long fer them very knights t'come back to claim our lives."

"And those who allied themselves with Loix are nowhere to be found," another, a young woman, said. Her hand was pressed to the side of her head, trying to halt the bleeding from a cut somewhere in her hair. "The cowards wait for safe passage, I am sure of it."

"If they've not left already," Vydel's voice rang from down the hall. "I've scoured this damned fortress and have nothing!"

Elery turned to watch her stride forward. "It's good to see you safe, at least. Wherever Loix is, we have no time to be concerned. Let him die here. He is one seryn I would not weep to cut down again after he was risen."

"He is not your mark, you daft seryn wench!" Vydel barked. "He is mine, and I—"

"Then go look again!" Elery snapped. "And again, and again, until either you find him or you fall unconscious from the exhaustion of trying! I am beyond allowing myself to worry over that deserter. Help has arrived and I intend to take it. If you wish to stay here and die with that fool and his followers, so be it! Enjoy your fleut with the homeland gods!"

The drakborne growled and narrowed her eyes. The chains still bound to her wrist jangled as she crossed her arms.

"We cannot linger inside much longer," Elery said. "Gaidel and three other dragons are fighting outside, but they are outnumbered now almost five to one. Not including the lycar and seryn, which pose little threat to a dragon but a grave one to us."

"Suthri's King?" a knight asked. "He could not have thrown himself into this fray thinking to come out of it alive."

"I doubt the form he takes is the one you imagine," Isandel said.

"You would learn soon enough, so I will tell you now and be done with it," Elery said as she moved toward the wall of scales blocking the door. "King Gaidel of Suthri is a dragon. Why he holds position as king, and why he's chosen now to take his true form, I dare not speculate."