The demon seethed in rage, not only at Pakar’s words, but also at Vand’s statement that he could not defeat the dragon alone. Zarapeto would have liked to reach out and crush someone, but Dobuk had forbidden it.
“The Khadorans are attacking,” shouted one of the mages.
“And horsemen from the east as well,” added another.
“Deal with them,” ordered Vand as he turned towards the doorway to the temple. “Zarapeto, join me in Dobuk’s chamber.”
The demon growled, but he followed the Emperor into the temple and into the sacred chamber where Dobuk resided. Vand bowed low as he entered the presence of the Great Demon. Dobuk did not look pleased with his disciple.
“You have squandered that which I have given you,” accused Dobuk. “Is this all that is left?” he asked as he pointed to Zarapeto.
“We thought that there was only one dragon,” Vand answered timidly. “You should have told me that there were two.”
“It is the same dragon,” interrupted Zarapeto. “It is Myka, the last of the dragons. I can kill her myself.”
“How?” balked Vand. “I saw her die.”
“Kaltara is active in this battle,” snarled Dobuk. “You should have expected that. Keep Zarapeto close to you. Let your armies destroy their armies. Let your mages destroy their mages. You are strong enough to resist the Three, and you will have Zarapeto to give you overwhelming odds. We will deal with the dragon afterwards. Return to the throne room and prepare for their arrival.”
Vand bowed low again and backed out of the sacred chamber. The demon followed him to the throne room and hovered near as the Emperor settled into his throne.
“We should not meet the enemy here,” Vand muttered aloud. “We should meet them in Dobuk’s presence. We will return to the sacred chamber.”
“That is not allowed,” Zarapeto declared.
“Not allowed?” balked Vand. “What do you mean?”
“Should Dobuk directly enter the fray,” explained the demon, “then Kaltara will as well. That would mean the end of the world, no matter who won. It is forbidden.”
“But Kaltara brought the dragon back to life,” protested Vand.
“Not directly,” the demon shook its head. “Dobuk would know if that was true. Kaltara used others to accomplish the task, just as Dobuk allowed you to raise the dead army. Where do you want me to hide?”
“Hide?” questioned Vand. “Don’t you think that they will be expecting to find you here?”
“Expecting to find me and actually knowing where I am are two different things,” Zarapeto grinned wickedly. “I will choose my own method of hiding.”
* * *
Pakar was busy directing his mages in the attack against the Khadorans and Fakarans when the dragon appeared high overhead. Their attention had been so focused on destroying the horsemen, that Myka had been able to approach unseen until Pakar noticed the shadow race across the roof. He was about to cast a lightning bolt at the dragon, but he could not as it was directly overhead. If the dragon avoided the bolt, it would smash down upon his own men.
“The dragon is back,” shouted the head mage. “Strengthen your shields until we get a good shot at her.”
Even as his warning was being delivered, light blades flew from the back of the dragon and smashed into the surface of the roof. The light blades hit one of the mages and a bright nimbus glowed around him as he struggled to maintain his shield.
The dragon darted around nimbly, which while it made the throwing of light blades rather ineffective, it also provided a futile target for the Motangan mages. Myka began an orbital path around the temple and zigzagged to avoid the enemy’s lightning bolts. It took several revolutions of the dragon before Pakar’s mages realized that their lightning bolts were slamming into the hellsouls below.
“Stop,” shouted Pakar. “Ignore them and focus on the horsemen. Keep your shields strong, and they cannot hurt us. Let them fly in circles.”
The Motangan mages returned their attention to the battle below and began blasting the horsemen that were engaging the hellsouls.
“Not good,” frowned Marak. “We must divert their attention.”
No one answered, but Myka immediately altered her flight path. She swung over the roof as far away from the Motangan mages as she could.
“Jump now,” commanded the dragon.
Lyra jumped without hesitation. She rolled herself into a ball as she had done when practicing her sword fighting. She came to her feet and immediately cast her blue cylinder of protection.
“Don’t back up,” came a soft voice from behind her.
Lyra turned and saw Rejji kneeling behind her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Guarding your back?” Rejji replied sheepishly. “I lost my grip when you jumped. Don’t look at me and maybe they will not notice me.”
Lyra shook her head and turned to face the Motangan mages. From behind her on Myka’s back, Marak threw several light blades that slammed into the pile of mages. One of them turned and saw Lyra standing on the roof.
“It is one of the Three,” he announced loudly.
Pakar and the others turned to stare at Lyra and her blue cylinder. They all reacted swiftly, and a myriad of spells went soaring towards the Star of Sakova. Her cylinder flared briefly from the magical impacts, but nothing appeared to harm her. The mages kept up a barrage of spells, working their way through their entire inventory of magical projectiles.
“Nothing seems to affect her,” scowled one of the mages.
“Keep trying,” ordered Pakar. “Every shield has its limit. There are more than enough of us to weaken her shield and kill her.”
* * *
Blaka, the leader of the Extala tribe, led the Fakaran charge. All of the tribes, free tribes and Jiadin, joined together in a tight knot and charged through the gap created by the tyrik webs. The Fakaran horsemen excelled in cavalry tactics, and the warriors surged into the mass of hellsouls, lopping off heads as they raced towards the temple.
The Khadoran cavalry was accustomed to a different type of fighting. Lord Marshal Yenga of the Torak clan led the western horsemen. The Khadorans advanced more cautiously than the Fakarans, striking down the hellsouls in any way they could. When the once-dead creatures resurrected, they were struck down again by riders farther back in the pack. A hellsoul might be killed three or four times before someone succeeded in removing its head, and the pace was slower, but they also gained steadily on the Temple at Vandegar.
Unexpectedly, lightning bolts from the roof of the temple began smashing into the ranks of both the Fakarans and Khadorans. The charges faltered as hundreds of horsemen and their mounts were blasted into charred debris. The horsemen were so tightly packed that the lightning bolts were highly effective. Lightning bolts followed one after another, and nowhere on the battlefield was safe. Yenga sounded the retreat, which was immediately echoed by Blaka.
As had been prearranged, elven archers moved forward from both the east and west. They kept to the sides of the horsemen and were soon joined by Chula shamans. The elven archers fired volleys of pointed arrows into the hellsouls while the Chula shamans used light blades to attack. The horsemen retreated under the cover of the elves and Chula and quickly regrouped. Once the horsemen were clear, the elves and Chula backed away.
“This is far enough,” shouted Yenga as the lightning bolts ceased. “Let our unmounted friends get clear before we try it again.”
“We are going back into that slaughter?” asked one of the nearby men.
“We are,” Lord Marshal Yenga nodded as he looked up and saw the dragon circling over the temple. “This battle ends when Vand’s forces are defeated and not before. If you don’t have the stomach for that then you can come up front and ride beside me.”
“I don’t mind fighting,” balked the Khadoran soldier, “but lightning is not battle.”