"That will be an historic moment!" Lord Sword declared, his face flushing and his long mustaches bobbing at the prospect. A fierce light entered his eyes. "To drive our lances into the faces of those beasts, for once — instead of merely standing our ground!"
Laurana smiled, too, but it was a grim expression to Mellison. She thought it made the elf woman look much older. "Yes — I will draw them into battle. The first of many. Once we've crossed the river, I don't intend to rest until we reach the gates of Kalaman!"
"Kalaman!" Sir Rose sputtered so much that his mustaches floated out from his mouth. They all knew that the distant city was in desperate straits, following a long winter of isolation and siege. Still, hundreds of miles of enemy territory lay between themselves and Kalaman.
"You're mad!" barked Patrick.
Laurana allowed the insult to pass, but this time her brother stepped forward. "The good dragons give us a striking force that you knights can't begin to imagine!" countered the tall elf. "We cannot waste them!"
"What about Dargaard?" asked Markham, turning to Laurana. "That's a powerful bastion across your path — the Dark Lady is there in force, together with the dragons of her Blue Wing. The ogres of Throtl are supported by green dragons, and they're certain to mass against your south flank."
"I intend to ignore Dargaard, for the time being. The ogres we'll meet, and defeat."
"They'll have the Green Wing to support them. And Emperor Ariakus has sent the Red Wing from Neraka as a reinforcement. Too, we don't have any idea where the reserve army has gone," argued Sir Rose.
"We have dragonlances," cried Gilthanas. "We can meet these serpents in the skies, finally, and defeat them!"
"The weapon, so far, has only proven itself in the closed confines of the tower!" Patrick growled back.
"That is true," Laurana agreed. "But I don't intend to fight all the dragons at once. That's why it's so important that we MOVE!"
"But a major river crossing!" objected Patrick. "You can't imagine the difficulties! And if we're caught with the army divided — "
"Our dragons will screen the crossing. And I intend to reach the Vingaard too quickly for anything but a token force to stand in our way."
"But there's the fortress itself — Vingaard Keep has a massive garrison!" persisted Patrick. "Anywhere we cross puts us in easy reach of a counterattack!"
"That brings me to the next part of the plan," Laurana announced, pausing to make sure she had the attention of all the men. "Vingaard will be liberated — tomorrow."
The knights, to a man, stared at the general in amazement. All knew that Vingaard Keep was three days' ride by horse.
At this point, the Council's voices grew hushed and confidential, so the rest of the conversation is lost to Mellison's diary — and to history. The results of this historic and clandestine conversation are known.
The following dawn, the skies over the High Clerist's Tower were filled with dragons — their metallic colors dappling the ground with moving reflections of the brilliant sunrise. Laurana, astride the huge gold dragon Quallathon, led the way. A wing of griffon cavalry, mounted with elven bowmen and lancers — lately arrived from Southern Ergoth — flew beside the great serpents. Altogether, two hundred of the half-hawk, half-lion beasts accompanied an equal number of dragons soaring southeast toward Vingaard — eighty miles away across the flat plain. Their bodies blackened the sky.
At the same time, the army moved out. Led by the knights on horseback, accompanied by the blue-garbed troops of Palanthas and a large and growing force of irregulars recruited from Solamnia and Ergoth, the soldiers of Laurana's command marched to the northeast. The diverging paths were obvious to all. The flying army was on its own, the battle would be won or lost long before the troops on the ground could arrive.
Gilthanas, in an extensive letter to Porthios, gives us a vivid picture of this assault — the first time the good dragons took the offensive in the war.
"Within four hours our dragons drew within sight of mighty Vingaard Keep, standing on the near bank of the river that bears the same name.
"For more than a year, the dragonarmies had held the fortress, and their presence formed a bleak shroud around the once-grand castle. Layers of soot clouded the walls, and rubble-strewn fields surrounded the high towers, where once thrived lush crops of grain.
"I never knew such exhilaration and excitement. Silvara tucked in her wings and plunged toward the city. Wind lashed my hair and stung my face. The ground approached with dizzying speed, and I felt a fierce joy.
"At last the dragonarmies would get a taste of the terror they had spread so wantonly across Ansalon. Silvara's challenging bellow thundered through the air, echoed by scores of silver and golden throats.
"The draconians lining the walls quivered and shook under the awe of dragonfear, and only ceased their trembling as they died. Clouds of horrific breath expelled by the good dragons swept the draconian ranks, slaying them where they stood. Blistering heat from the brass and gold dragons mingled with the lightning bolts spit by the bronze; spurts of acid from the copper dragons pooled on the paving stones beside the chilling blasts of ice spouting from the silver wyrms.
"A few evil dragons, mostly blues, had taken refuge in the city after the battle at Westgate. Now, these rose to meet us, spitting lightning bolts, carrying their riders into the fray. But even as they rose, the magic of the gold dragons smashed the leaders from the skies. Then a rank of knights led by Silvara and me, carrying dragonlances shining as bright as silver dragonwings, met the enemy and ripped into the blues.
"Silvara reached out with rending claws and tore the wing from one of the blues. I watched the crippled creature plunge to its death. Then a bolt of lightning crackled past my head. Quickly I raised my lance as Silvara shrieked. Her head, of silvered steel, struck the back of the blue wyrm and that serpent, fatally pierced, followed its fellow to the ground. The other good dragons whirled passed us, slaying the remainder of the blues before their deadly breath weapons could begin to tell.
"Within an hour, brother, the good dragons had settled to the rooftops and towers of the city, spewing their deadly breath while the griffon-mounted elves showered the remaining defenders with arrows. For the whole day the dragons remained perched on all the high places in the city, following the plan of our general."
Gilthanas was all for pursuing the enemy troops into their hiding holes, driving them from the city, but his sister insisted on patience. There would be no pursuit. Instead, the dragons of good would occupy every vantage point in the city, barring any draconian from appearing in the light of day.
This patience paid off in lives. Seeing that their hated enemies were not about to depart, the troops of the dragon-army abandoned Vingaard Keep during the night. Some fled south, fearing the spring-swollen river as much as they did the good dragons. Many of these were humans, who hoped to blend into the populace. A great number of these, it is known from the records of the knighthood, joined the ranks of Laurana's army by the end of the campaign. Others stole what boats they could or, in the case of draconians, tried to use their wings to carry them across the deep torrent. (Fully half of the latter are believed to have perished in the attempt.) When the sun next rose over Vingaard Keep, the fortress was held by the good dragons and their elven allies.
The few humans who had survived the long and brutal occupation crept from their shadowed rooms into the sunrise. They caught sight of Laurana's hair, trailing from her helm like a pennant of streaming gold in her wake. Those long golden locks could be seen a mile away on the battlefield.
"Hail to the General of the Golden Banner!" they cried. Soon it became "Hail to the Golden General!"
And the Vingaard Campaign had begun.