Siege of Stone

CHAPTER 62

It was a bright morning, a fateful morning, and the sun rose above Ildakar’s bluffs, silhouetting the city. General Utros studied the haze in the air, the orange colors of brightening dawn, and he felt the magic around him strengthening—the magic that Ava and Ruva had released.

Because the spell was tied to the skin they had peeled from his face, Utros was part of the magic as well. When his sorceresses had burned the dragon-fire scar and mixed the ash with his blood in the water basin, a magical bond had been forged like a gossamer net cast throughout the gift. They knew it would take time. Finally, days later, in the darkness of the headquarters structure, all three of them had sensed … a dragon. Yes, their spell had found one of the magnificent ancient beasts, and caught it.

Even during Kurgan’s original reign of conquest, dragons had been imposing, unpredictable beasts, and rare. Now, with the powerful spell Ava and Ruva cast, they had found one dragon. Only one.

“He is distant,” Ava said in a hushed whisper. Ruva leaned closer, stroking Utros’s cold, hard skin. They shared their body warmth, their magic, their presence with him. “But we will make him come to us, through you.”

At midnight, Utros had withdrawn his lines of troops from the wall, where their unceasing pounding had begun to shiver Ildakar’s defenses. He knew the unexpected silence would unnerve the enemy, make them cower because of the quiet as much as they feared the hammering.

Sooner or later the walls would come down. The wizards inside had reinforced the blocks with their spells, but it was only a matter of time, and after fifteen centuries as a statue himself, Utros wasn’t worried about time. His emperor and his beloved Majel were already with the Keeper in the underworld. Utros wanted to succeed, needed to succeed to atone for his broken loyalty. Having seen Iron Fang’s absolute fury and vengeance, Utros knew he would not be forgiven easily. Maybe if he conquered the entire world …

Ildakar was the first step.

Once the pounding soldiers retreated, the night had been left with resounding silence while Utros made final preparations.

After painstakingly removing any hint of hair from their bodies, the women had used fingertips and bright pigments to daub designs over each other’s arms, necks, faces, breasts, each making her sister an exotic sensual masterpiece. With their bodies so colorfully painted, neither of the sorceresses needed clothes.

Utros knew they wouldn’t fail him. During the initial workings of the spell, after they dissolved his scar and sent out their call, they had discovered the water-scrying sorceress from Ildakar, but Ava and Ruva had dealt with the spy. Now his enemies inside the city were likely aware of his plan, even though they could do nothing to stop it. How could even Ildakar prepare against a dragon in thrall to Utros?

After tense days of waiting, the time had come, and there was no sense in hiding their plan. Ildakar would burn, its walls would fall, its people would scream and try to surrender, though it would be far too late. Now, at the break of dawn, Utros walked with the twin sorceresses to the center of the plain. He had ordered his soldiers to clear a great open area in full view of Ildakar. It was time for Ava and Ruva to pull on the unbreakable spell chains and drag the giant dragon here to do the general’s bidding.

The women walked naked alongside General Utros out to the summoning point. Ruva spoke in a husky whisper. “Daybreak is the cusp between darkness and light, a time when magic is at balance, when certain spells are easier.”

Ava added, “It is not easy, beloved Utros, but my sister and I will give all we have. We will bring you the dragon.”

Now that the sun was up, the twins were ready. Utros stood in his ancient uniform, leather armor with polished metal strips, the helmet with the imposing bull’s horns. Around him, his army had erected banners to bring Iron Fang’s flame emblem to the battlefield again. Utros touched the large sword at his side, squeezed the leather of his gauntlets, felt the tight bracer on his right arm.

Sunlight reflected off the beaten-gold mask that covered the left side of his face, where his skin had been cut away. Ava and Ruva had used magic to fashion a half mask out of raw gold, shaping rings, bracelets, and necklaces into a covering that fit precisely against his exposed flesh. It seemed more glorious than his old dragon scar. It made him feel legendary.

“From which direction will the dragon come?” Utros asked.

Ava and Ruva turned slowly. “He will come from the sky, but we can’t know more than that. We have yet to call him.”

Two soldiers had brought large drums to the center of the wide clear space, according to the sorceresses’ commands. The women knelt, each facing a drum. With open palms and half-petrified hands, they began pounding a loud beat that resonated across the hushed army. The drumming was only part of the summons, though. They released their gift, and Utros could feel it tingling through his own body. Because of the scar and skin he had sacrificed to the spell, he and all dragons were joined by an invisible bond. Ava and Ruva sent the thrumming call through that bond, like a plucked string on a musical instrument.

Utros felt a lurch inside himself, like a trout struggling against a fishline, and then a surge of exhilaration. He knew the dragon was there, knew it was coming. He could feel the sheer power, the ancient reptilian strength, a creature whose very existence was tied to the bones of the world.

Ava and Ruva continued pounding the drums. The magic sparked like lightning through the air, cowing his thousands of soldiers. He no longer thought of the fires that had scorched the grass hills, or the separate armies he had dispatched on their own missions of conquest. All that mattered was this moment, this place, and the dragon that answered his summons.

With a thrill of never-forgotten fear, Utros recalled the wild silver dragon that he had captured long ago. That debacle should have made him terrified of dragons, but the general did not accept terror. He did know respect, however. With the bond through his skin, through the scar, Utros would command such a beast.

He heard a mutter of anticipation. He could feel the approaching dragon before any of his sentries caught sight of it. Ava and Ruva hammered the drums, sending loud reverberant thumps into the air and across the valley, like the frantic heartbeat of a doomed man.

The women stopped abruptly, sitting back on their heels and looking at the sky. Utros spotted a winged shape flying impossibly high, no more than a gray fleck against the blue. He felt it tugging against the bond, and then he saw the huge wings, the long sinuous neck, the lashing barbed tail.

Hushed gasps and outcries of amazement rippled across his countless soldiers. Once he sent the dragon against Ildakar, Utros wanted his entire army to attack as well, but even with his regimented tactical mind, Utros couldn’t worry about details of the military operation. Not now. His awe was too great.

The dragon swooped in, indomitable and unbelievable. It was far more ancient and much larger than the wild silver dragon he remembered from long ago. This one was a gray dragon that radiated unbelievable age, immeasurable wisdom, and the bile of anger that twisted back through the magical bond, lashing at the general’s heart.

With a bellows whoosh of hot air and a pounding of great weight, the dragon landed heavily before General Utros. Ava and Ruva stepped back from their drums as the general faced the creature. “You are mine,” he said.

The dragon’s head was as large as a horse cart, its jaws so wide and powerful they could snap a bull in two and swallow it in a single gulp. The yellow eyes burned with an inner fire, and smoke curled from its nostrils. Remembering the burn of the acid flames the silver dragon had spat at him, Utros knew this massive creature could incinerate him with a single breath.

The dragon’s deep voice rumbled like a storm. “Why did you summon me from Kuloth Vale?” The black forked tongue lashed out like a weapon.

“I am your master,” Utros said. “I command you to fight for me and my army.”

The gray dragon curled its wide serpentine neck. “I am Brom, and I have no master.”

In response, the general tugged on the magical bond, watched the dragon twitch in surprise. Ava and Ruva worked a spell, muttered incomprehensible words, and jabbed in perfectly synchronized motions. Brom flinched as if they had pierced him with hot slivers of metal.

“I am not yours to command!” Brom retorted. “I guard the bones of my ancestors.” Smoke boiled out of his mouth and flickers of flame curled in the back of his throat as he spoke. “To my knowledge, I am the last of my kind.”

Utros pressed his hand against the golden half mask. “You have a new loyalty now, a new mission. I call upon our bond. Fight for me. Attack and destroy Ildakar.”

Brom thrust his great wings into the air, flapping twice with a burst of wind that forced Utros to anchor himself to keep from being blown flat. “I will not.”

Utros stood firm. “You must! I command your service.”

Ava and Ruva worked their magic, unleashing what they had planned so carefully. Utros had not expected the gray dragon to resist so fiercely, but the twin sorceresses were surprisingly strong. They struck hard with the magic that connected them.

Brom roared, thrashed his head from side to side, and belched a long ribbon of flame into the air. Ava and Ruva wore malicious, defiant expressions as they jabbed magic daggers of pain into Brom’s brain.

“You will obey me!” Utros said again. “I command you to attack Ildakar.”

The sorceresses continued to inflict agony, and the huge gray dragon shuddered as if struck repeatedly by lightning. Though Brom struggled and his yellow eyes flared with hatred and resistance, he finally lowered his immense head toward the ground in submission before the general.

Utros smiled with half a face.