“Yes. And water.”
“Water won’t work on dragon fire. Neither will arrows. Save those. Use the ballistae.”
“Already armed and waiting for range.”
I didn’t know if we could do much damage to an attacking dragon on the wing, but we’d certainlyfind out. We reached the guard station below the lookout tower. Dary was still up there, using her flag in crisp, unhurried communication. “Get Dary down,” I told him.
“Sir, if there’s another—”
“If there’s an attack from another direction, it will be nothing compared to dragon fire. Get her down. Everyone not on the ballistae takes cover.”
He saluted and obeyed, signaling to Dary and passingalong my orders. I squinted at the dragon, growing ever larger, like a slowly falling star whose explosive landing could likely make Ordnung into a crater. The words itched to jump out, to order the second-level warning bell rung, but I couldn’t be sure yet—and Ursula wouldn’t easily forgive a false alarm.
On the one hand, all the living dragons we knew of were friendly. On the other, I’d seenfirsthand what Kiraka, one of those “friendly” dragons, had done to Ursula’s Tala cousin Zynda. She’d been immolated and survived only by magic and possibly—literally—divine intervention.
I stared at it, willing my eyes to see more than they did. I beckoned to Dary. “Is the dragon a bronze color?” I demanded.
“No, Captain. Black, or very deep blue. Hard to tell at this distance with the lightthe way it is.”
I nodded, biting down on the frustration. Dary had good eyes indeed if she could see that much—and she must’ve picked out that it was a dragon, not a bird, when it had been merely a speck in the distance, given its rate of approach.
Kiraka was bronze, so that ruled her out. And the friendly dragon liberated from under the dormant volcano at Windroven was silver. At least theydid us the favor of being different colors, much good may it do us.
Compared to the bedlam indoors, the walls were eerily silent. The township, alert to the bells of Ordnung, had gone quiet as everyone took shelter. Even the traffic on the trade road had halted, horses and oxen unharnessed and taken to cover, people crouching under wagons where necessary. The courtiers could learn from them.
Otherwise the quiet was broken only by the snap of Ordnung’s pennants in the wind, and the occasional scrape of a foot or weapon as we waited in tense readiness to fight an unstoppable enemy. One pass of dragon fire could wipe out half the soldiers on the wall.
“Track that aim,” I called out as the dragon veered from its direct approach. The crews on the ballistae were ahead of me, using the swivelmounts to good purpose. The dragon swung east, banking with spread wings on a glide, its massive shadow passing over us as its bulk blocked the sun.
“Nearly in range,” the near-end ballista crew leader called.
“There’s a rider,” Dary called out from her perch standing atop the parapet. Not at all under cover but at least not so easy a target as on the lookout tower.
I squinted at the dragon,barely making out a figure on its back. If it was one of the Deyrr sorcerers, they could wipe our minds and make us happy to die by dragon fire.
“Correction.” Dary had a hand up, ticking fingers to show three. “Multiple riders.”
“Count of five to range,” the crew leader announced.
“Stand by to launch,” I ordered, starting the countdown in my head.
“Rider appears to be signaling,” Dary called.
Four.
“Can you make it out?” Brant asked.
“Not easy at this distance, sir.”
Three.
“Could be spellcasting,” I warned.
“Best guess,” Brant ordered. “Now.”
Two.
Dary’s face was pinched in concentration. I didn’t know how she could see anything. “On my signal,” I told the ballista crew.
