one really knows him, Mother, but they say he is the greatest warrior since Arramos himself.”
“Why does he refuse a rider?”
“I asked him once,” Hartanna replied. “He says he works best alone, and with his dangerous maneuvers, he would prefer not to bring peril to a human.”
“I see,” Thigocia said, blinking away the droplets. “I have more questions, but that is enough information for now.”
Makaidos surged to the front of the line. “Form an arrowhead!”
The dragons fanned into formation, Makaidos at the tip and two dragons trailing him on each side.
Thigocia flew just behind her mate’s left wing, and Edward clutched her spine until his knuckles turned white. Chill bumps covered his arms, and his biceps twitched. The battle was about to begin.
Makaidos nodded at Hartanna’s rider, Dirk, a bearded man with his helmet pulled low on his wrinkled brow. “The command is yours, my good knight.”
Dirk raised his age-spotted hand. “Valcor!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Take the enemy on the left and thin their ranks. Makaidos, go for the center. Hartanna and I will blast the right. Legossi, run a torch on the back lines to prevent retreat. We will not let a single child killer escape. We will fly over the enemy in a continually cycling column, making sure that one or more of us faces their troops at all times, thereby guarding each other’s blind sides.”
Dirk stared directly at Edward and his dragon. “Thigocia, I have heard that you are a healer. Guard the king at all costs. Let him fight bravely, but if he is wounded, you must be there to heal him.”
“I have never healed a human,” Thigocia said, “but I will do what I can.”
“All dragons!” Dirk continued. “Listen to your riders! They know the wiles of men better than you do.”
Dirk lowered his hand and pointed toward the ground. Gradually pulling in their wings, the dragons angled downward, picking up speed with every second. Edward hung on to Thigocia’s spine, but seeing Dirk clenching both fists prompted him to let go.
The rushing wind and approaching shouts of battle pumped energy through Edward’s muscles. His heart beating wildly, he clenched his own fists, an unbidden battle cry bursting from his lips. As they dropped into a near vertical dive, he grasped the hilt of his sword.
While the other dragons dove toward their assigned positions, Thigocia headed straight for the battle line. Merlin and Barlow fought back to back, each man wielding his sword with perfect precision. Nearby, Arthur slashed Excalibur into a crowd of men. Each time the blade struck a shield, the silver edge seemed to flash and spark, slicing through metal and leather and cutting flesh and bone and leveling savage after savage.
Thigocia spewed a stream of bluish white fire, making a wide semicircle around the king. Dozens of enemy soldiers erupted in flames, flailing their arms as they tried to run for safety. With rain continuing to beat down, steam rose from every burning soldier, and a stiff breeze blew the vapor throughout their ranks, creating a foggy quagmire as their feet slogged through the mud. A fifth of the enemy troops stampeded back, scrambling over the slippery terrain, but they ran right into a wall of fire ignited by Legossi and the other dragons.
Edward patted Thigocia’s neck. “Well done!” he shouted. “This will be easy!”
“Too easy. I sense grave danger. Something sinister is afoot.” Thigocia landed in the space she had cleared and slapped two of the remaining savages with her tail, sending them flying. With her eyes flashing, she stormed in front of the king, her wings fully stretched as she spewed fire in a long arc toward the enemy’s retreating lines.
Arthur thrust Excalibur’s blade through a soldier’s shield and into his chest, then pulled it out. The bloodstained blade glowed, and as he raised it high, the barbarian’s blood sizzled and burned away. Arthur lowered the sword and gazed at it in wonder. “Merlin!” he called. “Do you know anything about this weapon?”
Merlin ran to the king’s side and grasped his wrist. “This is Chereb!” he exclaimed. “The sword of Eden!”
Arthur turned the hilt, showing the prophet the other side of the blade. “The Lady of the Lake named it Excalibur, and it seems to breathe fire when I call upon its energy, like a dragon made of polished steel.”
Thigocia extended her neck toward the king. “Your Majesty! Something wicked is coming, a horrible disaster looming in my mind like the rising of the