Despite their fangs and claws, they were no match for Vigilant in close combat. She’d already shredded two and was gutting another with her talons. But four more, keeping their distance, spat what looked like water at her, and she screamed and jerked.
Khouryn charged the closest one. It spat the same spray at him. He dodged, but some of the jet still caught him.
It felt hot instead of wet. A wave of sickness surged through him. He stumbled, and his foe rushed him. The fanged head on the long neck struck at him like a snake.
Refusing to be weak no matter how wretched he suddenly felt, he swung the urgrosh and lopped it off. Then he pivoted and chopped a second such creature in the chest.
He looked around and saw that Medrash and Balasar had killed a couple too. That seemed to be all of them in the immediate vicinity. And to his relief, he didn’t feel as miserable as he had a moment before. Just parched, like he’d marched under the hot sun all day without a drop of water.
“Where now?” Balasar asked.
It was a good question. Khouryn could tell from the battle cries and shrieks that the whole camp was under attack. But since he couldn’t see the battle, how could he judge where he and his companions were needed most?
He tried to swallow away the dryness clogging his throat. “We go to the ambassador. Protect her.”
Medrash gave a brusque nod, and they headed for the center of the camp and Perra’s fire. With luck, maybe she hadn’t strayed far from that location.
When they blundered into more of the hissing, long-necked creatures, they killed them. Once or twice, Vigilant shot Khouryn what he would have sworn was an annoyed glare. Maybe she considered it beneath her dignity to fight on the ground. But he was afraid he’d see even less if he rode her up into the air.
Finally Perra came into view. Cutting and parrying with one of the greatswords that only the highest-ranking Tymantherans were allowed to wield, the gaunt old diplomat was holding her own. So were the several warriors, some dragonborn and some human members of the Brotherhood, standing with her in a defensive circle. Still, Khouryn judged that he and his friends had been wise to come to her aid. There were dozens of the long-necked creatures attacking the formation.
He started forward, and Medrash said, “Wait.” The paladin spat bright, crackling lightning, and his clan brother, silvery frost. Blasted from behind, several of the orange-yellow creatures collapsed.
“Now,” Balasar said.
The newcomers rushed in. Vigilant leaped into the air and came down on top of two of the attackers. Her aquiline talons pierced them through, and as they crumpled beneath her weight, her beak nipped and beheaded another.
Khouryn hacked a creature’s leg out from under it, then stamped in its ribs. Another foe caught the urgrosh in its fangs and tried to yank it away. He hung on and gave the weapon a twist and jerk that snapped the reptile’s neck.
“Toad-sniffer!” Balasar yelled.
Khouryn had never heard the oath before, nor did he know why a dragonborn would consider it obscene. But he recognized the tone-shock and disgust blended together. Balasar sounded like many a warrior who’d just noticed a nasty surprise appearing on the battlefield.
Khouryn whirled in time to see the last bits of an enormous creature waver into visibility. The tops of its batlike wings and its left forefoot painted themselves on the foggy air. Its glowing golden eyes fixed on Perra, and it sucked in air. Since its scales were the same topaz color as those of its servants, Khouryn assumed it was about to spew a similar attack. But dragon breath would be far more hurtful and harder to dodge.
He yelled and charged. No good. It didn’t distract the wyrm. It vomited that strange, debilitating antiwater at Perra and her circle.
Just before the spray reached them, Perra vanished, and Medrash appeared in her place. Apparently the latter had used his particular form of magic to make the switch.
The dragon breath washed over Medrash and the other warriors in the ring. Some of them tried to catch it on their shields, but that didn’t save them. Khouryn winced as they all collapsed.
The topaz dragon’s crested, wedge-shaped head turned, no doubt seeking Perra. Vigilant lashed her wings, rose above the enormous reptile, then plunged, talons poised to pierce the fiery eyes.
But the dragon perceived the threat. It twisted its head and spread its jaws wide. Vigilant’s own momentum threatened to hurl her in.
Fortunately, she managed to veer off. The dragon struck at her, and its huge teeth clashed shut on empty air.
Then Khouryn reached its foreleg. He chopped it like it was a tree. When he pulled the urgrosh free, blood gushed.
He struck again. Then the dragon raised its foot high, nearly jerking his weapon from his grasp. It stamped.
He dodged underneath its belly to avoid being squashed. As the impact jolted the ground, he tried another blow at the expanse of scaly hide above him. The angle was awkward, and the axe blade glanced away without penetrating. He reversed his grip and stabbed with the urgrosh’s spearhead. That punched through. For a moment, his desperation gave way to a fierce satisfaction.
Then pain ripped through his head. It was a psychic attack, like the one So-Kehur, autharch of Anhaurz, had used to paralyze him during the battle beside the River Lapendrar.
He refused to let that happen this time. Though half blind with tears and sheer agony, he kept moving and jabbing.
Until the topaz wyrm pivoted and darted a few strides, distancing itself from him. He started to pursue, and its lashing tail whirled out of nowhere and bashed him broadside.
The next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the ground, the throbbing in his skull replaced by a general ache down one side of his body. He tried to lift himself up and was relieved to find that he could. The impact might have cracked a rib or two, but it hadn’t completely shattered any bones.
The topaz dragon was still trying to kill Perra. Khouryn wished she’d retreated. But either she’d never really had the chance, or she was as disinclined to do so as a dwarf noble would have been.
At least she wasn’t battling alone. Sellswords had formed into two squads and were fighting as Khouryn had taught them to fight something huge. One team jabbed with its spears, assailing the dragon while still maintaining a little distance. When it oriented on them, they fell back and the other group took advantage of the creature’s distraction to attack.
Standing right in front of the wyrm’s snapping jaws and raking foreclaws, depending on his skill with sword and shield-as well a nimbleness unusual in a dragonborn-to keep him safe, Balasar cut, blocked, and dodged. Other Tymantherans ran out of the fog to assault the dragon with the same reckless daring.
Surely all that skill and courage ought to count for something. But the topaz dragon feinted a strike with one foot, then slashed with the other. Balasar still managed to catch the claws on his targe, but the raw force of the blow hammered him to the ground. Then the wyrm spewed more of its breath weapon. Caught in the spray, half a dozen warriors fell, and afterward there was nothing between the dragon and Perra. It gathered itself to spring.
Vigilant dived at the dragon. The griffon had evidently been circling overhead, waiting for another chance to catch the gigantic reptile by surprise.
Once again the wyrm somehow perceived the threat. It jerked its head aside and so saved its eyes. But Vigilant compensated and at least managed to slam down on the dragon’s neck just behind the skull. Her talons stabbed deep into the leathery orange-yellow hide. Her gnashing beak tore away chunks of flesh.
The dragon gave an earsplitting scream. It whipped its neck back and forth but failed to dislodge Vigilant. It clawed with a forefoot. Still clinging to her perch, the griffon shifted sideways and dodged the stroke.