A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,95
the thousands of them?
But she could say none of that. Not with his wife by his side or even with Mori there. So Treale only swallowed and spoke soft words.
"I will fight by your side, Elethor," she said. "I will not leave you. I promise. You have my fire—always."
She lowered her eyes, the shame burning through her. Of course, she thought. Of course he was so cold to her. She had abandoned him in battle last year. When the wyverns had flown toward Nova Vita, she had defected. She had left his army despite his orders, had flown to Oldnale Farms and found her parents dead. She had deserted him; of course he would not show her the warmth he showed Lyana and Mori.
I'm a traitor to him, she thought, and her throat constricted. She looked away lest he saw the tears in her eyes. I saved his sister, but he still remembers my sin.
The wind blew, and she lowered her head.
The invasion of Tiranor began with rain, wind, and beating waves. The dragons of Requiem took flight first, three thousand in all—all Vir Requis old enough to shift into dragons and fight. Today they were all soldiers. They roared and their scales clanked and their wings thudded, rippling the sea. Upon every dragon's back rode a soldier of Osanna, clad in steel and armed with bow, spear, and sword. Their bull horn banners streamed, and their shields caught the sun. They shouted for their land, and the dragons roared, and they raced across the sea into a horizon of rain and cloud.
Behind them, the salvanae and griffins took flight too, a great host nearly fifty thousand strong. Upon their backs too rode soldiers of Osanna, clinging to their saddles. The army soon covered the sea like a great cloud, shimmering and snorting and rippling the water beneath them.
Never had the world seen so many beasts fly together, Treale thought. Poets would sing of this day until the world fell.
She flew, a slim black dragon with fire in her nostrils. Upon her back rode an Osannan soldier, a young man with a stubbly face, an impish grin, and a shock of brown hair.
"Stop dipping so much!" he shouted down to her. "By the Earth God, you do wobble when you fly."
She growled over her shoulder and found him grinning.
"Be quiet, Jadin," she said and gave him her best glare. "Stars, you farm boys do whine a lot."
He snorted. "I haven't seen my farm in a year now. I'm a soldier; don't you forget it. If we meet any nephilim, it'll be my bow shooting at them."
It was her turn to snort. "And my fire. I think they will barely notice your puny little arro—OW!"
He had dug his heels deep into her flanks. Treale grumbled and cursed. She was a dragon of Requiem! It was ridiculous that she should wear a saddle like a horse. And yet the Osannans had insisted, saying something about how otherwise, they would fall and drown in the sea. Flying with Jadin upon her back, Treale did not think that would have been so tragic.
"If you do that again," she said, "I'll bite your legs off."
He flashed a grin. "I'll stop if you stop wobbling."
She grumbled, looked back forward, and beat her wings with grim intent. She tried to forget he rode her. It would be a long flight. The sea stretched for many leagues between southern Requiem to the northern shores of Tiranor. Even flying at top speed, it would take hours to reach Tiranor, perhaps all day.
Jadin began to sing old, rude limericks—something about the beasts he'd slay, the women he'd bed, and the gold he'd plunder. Treale grumbled and snorted fire and kept flying.
She looked to her left. Elethor flew there, Lyana and Mori at his sides.
The royal family of Requiem, she thought. The man I love. The man so close and so far from me.
Behind them, the army spread like a great tapestry, a league long. Treale looked over her shoulder at them, so many dragons and griffins and men. She imagined this army sweeping across Tiranor, claiming city and fort; the world had never known such might. And yet…
Fear pounded through her. She had seen the nephilim. She had seen them slay so many. She had seen the Lord Legion rise, a great beast all of scales and horns and rot, his halo flaming like a sun. Could they truly kill this dark god? Even with all their might, could this