and a large green cloud spewed from his maw. The vapor covered the throng of remaining defenders, and they began to cough and wheeze at the choking cloud. Many fell to the muddy snow, their limbs writhing with deadly spasms. The dragon advanced.
It was a brutal massacre, according to the accounts of those few who survived. The great wyrm simply advanced and slew all those who stood before him. His wings beat down and buffeted those his arms couldn’t reach to rend. His tail lashed out behind and battered those few who tried to stand after his initial attack. But most horrible of all was his mouth, with its rows of wicked, pointed teeth that snapped constantly. That maw delivered death and dismemberment left and right.
The carnage did not end when the folk lay dead; it continued throughout that long, terrifying night. The beast couldn’t be stopped. The archers shot arrow after arrow, but they could not penetrate the dragon’s hide. They shot at the leathery wings, the glassy eyes, and the blood-gorged mouth. These attacks only infuriated the beast to a greater rage.
Bywater’s only wizard, who had prudently waited for the initial attack to subside before he appeared, had prepared all his best spells in defense of the village. By relaying messages through archers and runners, the villagers planned their next move. The archers would let loose a barrage of arrows. Under that cover, four or five of the most skilled men would attack the dragon’s rear flanks, using the merchant’s magical weapons. Then, while the dragon was being distracted on all sides, the mage would launch his spells.
All worked as planned. The arrows whistled toward the beast’s eyes and mouth and wings, the weapons bit into his flanks, and lightning streaked through the air toward the creature’s massive heart. But the dragon ignored the raining missiles, flicked his tail and took out the rear guard, and launched his own spell at the mage who challenged him. The dragon’s ball of fire engulfed the mage and all the farmers surrounding him. The fire exploded backward and onto the blacksmith’s shop. Before long, the south side of the street was in flames.
The horses on the street were dead, many of them disemboweled. Two-thirds of the townsmen lay dead as well. The people of Bywater were shattered-their last hope had died with the mage. Those few who still had their wits about them turned and fled the town.
But Verdilith was still not finished. The glow in his eyes grew red, and his teeth gleamed evilly. The light of a few remaining lanterns cast a faint glow on the gleaming green hide of the beast as he coursed the street. He sniffed the smoke-filled air, and a line of saliva fell hissing from his mouth. He reached toward the front of a house. The wooden doors groaned as he ripped them from their hinges. Next came the screams of women and children hidden inside.
By water rang with the cries of the dying that night, and the cries of the living on every night thereafter.
The dragon winged his way north and to the east after ravaging Bywater. The town had sated his blood and appeased his cruel appetites, but the night wasn’t finished. He slowed his flight once he crossed the fork of the river and entered the hills surrounded on either side by the Castellan and the Highreach rivers. Greasetongue’s orc tribe claimed this treacherous land for its own. The dragon would call on the Rooster’s tribe located farther west after his work here was done.
Verdilith scented the air carefully, changed his direction, and flew another thirty wingspans before spying the light of a fire well hidden in the rugged hills. He went into a slow spiral to give himself time to take in the temperament of the camp before the orcs could discover his presence.
Gliding in lower, the wyrm laughed, a low rumble that started at the base of his long neck and worked its way out of his mouth as a roar. Shrieks filled the air, and Verdilith was pleased by the pleasant sound of his prey. He was going to enjoy this.
Maldrake stared at the white pillow Teryl Auroch had just handed him. The blond lord didn’t move, and Brisbois was moved to compassion for his friend. He said as gently as he could, “Yvaughan’s young yet, Maldrake. There’ll be other children.”
Maldrake burst into movement. He threw the pillow at Teryl’s feet and rounded on Brisbois. “She killed my son! Didn’t you hear Teryl? There will be no more children!” The noble threw up his hands and began circling the small chamber in the tower that the three of them used for meetings. “The plan’s ruined! Completely ruined!”
“The plan?” Brisbois asked, puzzled.
“The, ah, plan to have his son inherit the estates of Penhaligon, should the baroness not take a husband,” Teryl rejoined smoothly as Maldrake paced the room.
“Arteris is still young! What’s Maldrake thinking of?” Brisbois asked the mage. The knight stared at Teryl Auroch and wondered just what had happened last night. Today the wizard had lost much of his nervousness, as well as his obsequiousness. He’d even lost the habit of shaking, which had always annoyed Brisbois enormously. Teryl’s new steadiness, however, annoyed Brisbois even more.
Maldrake whirled on the two men. “You!” he pointed to Teryl. “Get back to Yvaughan’s side. You failed me by not keeping my son alive last night, by not watching that woman. Fail me again, Teryl Auroch, and you won’t like the consequences!” Maldrake’s green eyes glittered with wrath in the sunlight, but Teryl merely bowed calmly and left without a word.
The blond lord turned on Brisbois and grabbed his blue tunic. Maldrake stared up at Brisbois and growled, “I blame you for the death of my son, Brisbois.”
Brisbois’ eyes grew wide with innocent fear. “Me? Maldrake, why me? I left last night only to attend to another crisis. I suppose you blame me for the dragon’s slaughter at the stable, too!”
“That’s not it,” Maldrake hissed, giving the knight a contemptuous push and turning away. The lord paced the room twice before turning on Brisbois again. “If you had killed Flinn and not just destroyed his home, I wouldn’t have had to go out last night. I could have protected my son from that woman.”
Brisbois snapped, “Flinn had too much help for me to take them all on, and he was never alone long enough for me to finish the deed. Besides, does Flinn really have to die? Isn’t burning his house enough?”
Maldrake screamed. “No, it’s not! He’s the one who’s made Yvaughan what she is, Brisbois! Can’t you see that? Yvaughan’s been hearing his voice-what other evidence do you want? He’s trying to get her back! He knows I have her, and now he wants her back.”
Brisbois shook his head. “Now wait a minute, Maldrake,” he said sternly. “Flinn didn’t even know you and Yvaughan were in love when the council stripped him of knighthood, unless you told him and didn’t tell me. It’s possible Flinn doesn’t even know you married her-I certainly didn’t tell him.” Brisbois hit his fist on the lacquered table, an inspired light entering his eyes. “Maldrake! Did you notice how Teryl acted? Something strange has happened to him-he’s not his usual kowtowing self. Maybe he killed your son! I don’t trust him, and I never have!”
Maldrake peered at Brisbois from beneath his heavy-lidded eyes. “Brisbois, my dear Brisbois, Teryl would never harm my son,” the young lord said, his lips curling into a sneer of a smile. Maldrake extended a chair for the knight. “I think it’s time I tell you a thing or two…”
Chapter VIII
Flinn looked down from his vantage point on a small crest overlooking the road to Bywater. The little town was less than an hour’s easy ride away. Although the barren forests still obscured his view, Flinn saw smoke trickle into the air from where Bywater was situated. The cloud looked blacker and more pervasive than the smoke of chimneys. Flinn looked up uneasily at the ravens circling overhead. Their ominous croaks in the winter air grew louder as Flinn, Jo, and Dayin approached the small town. The presence of the birds boded ill. Flinn spurred on Ariac, followed by Johauna on Brisbois’ horse and Dayin on Fernlover. Both the young woman and the boy had noticed the same omens as Flinn, and all three were grimly quiet as they traveled the road.
As they topped the final rise before Bywater, the ruin opened up before them. Flinn’s breath caught short.
