There was an instant roar of outrage and horror from the ex-nobles. But I turned my back on them. Instead, I flung bits of flesh off my fingers as my parents and mate took great delight in tossing the bloated body of the traitor over the wall as well.
And then I addressed my Dragons. “We seem to have an opening for new nobility in our dread, Gavemor Dragons. You have just been elevated in status. Send the messenger to the others. Tell them they are now lords and ladies. And tell them that I need my nobles now. Shift and join us at the wall.”
The Dragons roared as one mounted a horse and made for the castle.
“You will die horribly for this!” someone shouted from the other side of the wall.
I think they'd been shouting for a while, but I only just began to hear them. Casually, I turned and looked down. Three Dragons stood front and center of the army, although they didn't separate themselves from the ranks entirely. One of those Dragons was a woman. They had decided, as I had, to enlist the females in this fight. That didn't bother me. At least, not beyond us losing the upper hand. I had hoped that they would hold back when they saw females in our ranks. But now I realized they were just as desperate as me to win this battle. So desperate, they had brought their women. They probably hoped for the same as me—to shock us on the battlefield. So, neither of us would have that advantage. So be it. I had other tricks up my sleeve.
Behind me, the Dragons kept cheering and their delight bolstered the ranks of Horns and Talons. Yes, even the officers of the city, those men and women who watched over the civilians and enforced my laws but weren't required to fight in times ofwar, had come to stand against the invasion. Because this wasn't just about my Dragons either. This was an attack against all of us.
Seeing the confidence in my soldiers lifted my spirits as well. I glanced at Risarren, and he nodded. Time to see what the sorcerer was capable of.
“Come then!” I called. “Tear down our walls if you can.” I crossed my arms over my chest and grinned, taunting them. They should attack with the war machines first, but that wasn't a certainty. “This city has stood for thousands of years. It will take more than a bunch of bastard traitors to bring it down.”
The army behind me cheered again, bashing their swords or claws against their shields or armor.
One of the Dragons at the front of the enemy forces shouted, “Take them down!”
There came a great rumble as the siege weapons were rolled forward, drawn by horses. The animals were unhitched and led away, for which I was grateful. It would have saddened me to see innocent beasts hurt because of their masters' hubris.
The magic-users on the walls prepared their spells. We had planned for this. They didn't even glance at me. Each of them knew when to strike and how. I grinned again and waited. When the ex-nobles noticed my calm amusement, they exchanged worried looks, but they were still too arrogant to think I could withstand their consolidated attack.
The war machines were loaded with an assortment of missiles. Boulders, barrels of flaming oil, and balls of sharp metal were just a few of the things they were going to launch at us. Even worse were the many jars of magic that gleamed andsparked in the cradles of catapults. If even one of those landed, it would cause untold amounts of damage. But I swallowed my concerns and kept my faith.
“Fire!” someone shouted.
And then there was chaos.
My arms fell limply to my sides and my jaw tried to join them. I was not the only one with this reaction. Everyone who wasn't a magic-user or sorcerer gaped at the horrifying cluster-fuck before us.
“Dear Gods,” my mate whispered and took my hand.
I wasn't wearing armor. I knew I'd have to shift, so I hadn't bothered with plate or maille. This meant that my hand was bare, and I was able to weave my fingers with my mate's to offer him my reassurance. He had been frightened by the display, but my shock quickly turned to glee. A monstrous glee, but a delight nonetheless.
Because those weapons that had been meant to hurt me and mine had all turned upon their users. Some came apart in great billows of magic clouds, some exploded in deadly detritus, and some melted into acidic puddles that digested anyone who came into contact with them. Screams echoed in my ears and acrid smoke filled my nostrils. Dragons died. They died in great numbers, struck down by pieces of their own weapons.
It's difficult to kill a single Dragon. Or so I'd thought. The sorcerer had just proven that not only could be done without lifting a finger, but it could also be done on a mass scale. Our war would go down in history for many reasons, but this moment would be at the top of the list.
The magic missiles caused the most damage, and I narrowed my eyes to see past the glare that covered huge swaths of the army. Those hit by spewing liquid or caught within sparkling fog fell to the ground and died instantly. Some just vanished.
Two things occurred to me then. First, I realized that although they hadn't employed magic-users, they had used magic beyond their own. This only affirmed my earlier conclusion that they were desperate. That pleased me. But then came the second realization—that this was the end they meant for me. One of those magic-filled catapults had been aimed at me. If it had hit and melted me to nothing, they would have rejoiced. This did not please me so much. But it did give me leave to rejoice in their deaths.
War is a terrible thing.
The enemy forces were diminished considerably, but I still wasn't sure if it would be enough. Their morale had sunk, and that would help as well. The uninjured Dragons backed away to stare at the destruction around them in shock. And my magic-users made use of their distraction.
Later, they would help my troops, but this first attack was theirs alone. Well, I suppose I had made the first attack, and that was as it should be. The second attack belonged to Risarren. So, the magic-users came third. Still, they launched their spells before I launched my dragons, fighting alone.
Speaking of which, the loyal members of my dread had shifted and come to my call. All but the elite unit in the street who would lead the other races in my army out to battle. We needed some Dragons on the ground to counter any foot soldiersthe other side employed. But those who had shifted hovered in the air behind me, their mass blocking out the sun.
The Dragons outside our gates didn't notice my winged warriors. They were too busy clawing their way out of sinkholes, tenacious vines, and whirlwinds. It was time for the fourth wave.
I kissed Aras. Just a quick peck, but it was full of love. The thought that it could be our last kiss entered my mind, but I banished it. I couldn't go into battle like that. I expected Aras to tell me to retreat if necessary, something protective like that. Instead, he warmed my heart with something unexpected.
“Kill those motherfuckers, Ly!” Aras growled. “Kill them all!”
With a delighted roar, I leapt from the wall.
