VELZA
Velza had reached the shore and was clear of the battle’s smoke when the dragon attacked the city.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, she thought. Dragons don’t take sides. Why is it attacking?
The enormous creature swooped low over the smoke-shrouded ships and made straight for the docks. On the long, stone breakwater were mounted three dozen ballistas to protect the harbour from invading ships. A streamer of bright green fire lashed out over the breakwater, but most of the soldiers had already abandoned their weapons and jumped for the water.
The dragon flew over the harbour, flaming ships at anchor, piers, sheds and warehouses. Then, with a single flap of its wings, it flew on over Teliz, breathing flames and leaving behind a streak of blackened, burning roofs across the middle of the city.
What chance has anyone against that? Velza wondered as she watched the dragon beating its vast wings to clear the mountains north of the city. It circled around for another attack. Bells were ringing. Not the random clanging of alarm bells, Velza realised, there was a pattern. On the towers, signal mirrors twinkled, and signal flags were hoisted.
The Savarians are going to fight back, she concluded. How can anyone fight a dragon?
Again the dragon flew low over the smoke- shrouded battle on the water, lined up the harbour for another attack – and blazed with light as the combined beams of the city’s nine Deathlight towers focused on it. Instead of belching green flames, the dragon bellowed like a thunderclap and flew straight over the city, a huge wing smashing into one of the towers as it passed.
That must have hurt, thought Velza as she watched the dragon frantically flapping to gain height, but favouring one wing. It will have to circle around to miss the mountains; it can’t fly strongly enough to clear them . . . But why is it flying directly for them?
Then she had it! The dragon had been blinded by the Deathlight towers – it did not know how low it was flying.
The dragon slammed straight into the base of a mountain. There was a brilliant flash of white light followed by a green fireball as energies that could have laid waste entire kingdoms were released all at once.
‘A dragon has died!’ the astonished Velza said aloud. ‘No dragon has died for a thousand years.’ Even though she was two miles from the city, she could hear the cheering. The Savarians had defeated a fully grown dragon, and had probably sunk the entire Dravinian fleet as well. Nearby, other Dravinian sailors and marines were struggling out of the water or lying exhausted on the sand. Several gigboats full of marines had even made it to the shore without being rammed or set on fire. For now, Velza was still among her own people.
Perhaps I should have helped Dantar ashore, but that would have made him a deserter too. Is it better to be a live deserter than a dead hero? Live deserters would say yes, but dead heroes don’t give opinions. Why do I feel guilty no matter what I do?
‘Velza!’
Velza turned to see Captain Parvian standing nearby, looking as wet and dishevelled as she was. His blue coat was tied around his waist. Makes sense to keep it, marks him as a captain.
‘Did you see the dragon killed?’ Parvian asked.
‘That I did, Sir.’
‘Astounding! People will be singing ballads about this day for a thousand years, yet we were here to see it happen. Almost makes me wish I were a Savarian. Come along, let us rally the survivors.’
Velza could not comprehend the way the captain was acting. He knew that she had deserted the ship to save her brother from drowning, yet he was speaking to her as if she were blameless.
‘Sir, you must know that I am a deserter,’ she said. ‘I leapt from the ship to save my brother from drowning, many of the crew saw me do it.’
‘Nonsense, you leapt from the ship to save a senior officer, who just happened to be your brother. The rules allow you to desert your post to save a senior officer.’
For a moment it was like waking from some nightmare in which Velza had murdered the emperor. Suddenly everything was normal again
. . . yet it was not.
‘But Sir, there is no such rule,’ she pointed out.
‘And there is no rule to say that a captain may murder an admiral who is trying to surrender his fleet to the enemy. Both of us are guilty of breaching the rules, Liaisory Velza, but if we can provide our emperor with some little victory out of the debacle that Dalzico caused, we shall be rewarded, not punished. That’s another of those unwritten rules that you have to learn.’
Velza did not reply. She was suddenly in a world without certainties, where everything depended on what was achieved, and not on whether the written rules were followed to achieve it.
‘Besides, by saving your brother, you saved me,’ Parvian continued.
‘Sir? I don’t understand.’
‘After the Invincible sank, when we were in the water, your brother gave himself up to the Savarians so that I could escape.’
‘Dantar did that?’ exclaimed Velza.
‘He did indeed.’
‘And now he’s a prisoner of the enemy?’ gasped Velza, swinging from pride to horror in the same moment.
‘Dantar is out of the war and safe as a prisoner. In time your family will receive a ransom demand from the Savarian king, and I would consider it an honour if you will allow me to pay it.’
‘Whatever you say, Sir, thank you.’
‘Now come along and help me rally the survivors. There’s a forest beyond the shore. We can hide there and get organised.’