The landing cave exploded, as if an unsuspected volcano had suddenly awoken beneath the cliff. AuRon the Gray, Shadowcatch the Black, and the Dragonelles of the Isle of Ice came up in fire and fury. Riderless fighting stock launched themselves out of the cave in confusion. AuRon, Natasatch, and Shadowcatch tore through the Dragonguard, the riders, and the few keepers who took up weapons. Shadowcatch cornered the survivors down a cave used to hang tack, and bellowed threats until they threw down their weapons and came out. When a Dragonguard pulled his poison dagger to stab Shadowcatch, the other humans restrained him.
“You fool, he’ll burn us with you,” the others said.
The dragonelles heard the confused cries of hatchlings even from afar, and poured down into the caves like a flaming green sea. Young drakes saw men and dragons fighting, and sided with their blood. The dragonelles hunted through the wreckage until the last hatchling was under their care. Only then could AuRon calm them and stop the killing.
“You may take to your boats and leave,” AuRon commanded the captives. “Take your wars, your hatreds, elsewhere. This island is forfeited to the dragons you abused.”
AuRon was relieved beyond words. There was still so much to do. Confused dragons, both fighting stock and drakes, still hid in their lairs, waiting for the order they had been bred to wait for. They would have to be taken in hand and taught to be dragons again. There would be those who could not survive on their own, of course. Some he would lead to Naf, some he would lead to the dwarves, so that they might be used in case of more attacks from the other tribes under the Wyrmmaster’s sway.
But that was for the coming months. He owed much to Natasatch. A song, for a start.
“Are you ready to fly?” he said as they stood beneath the ruins of the watchtower. In the distance, the lodge of the Wyrmmaster burned as Shadowcatch and some of the other fighting stock searched the island for more of the Dragonguard.
Natasatch stood happy in the Sun. “I’d forgotten how warm She was,” she said, looking up at the yellow blaze. “She makes me feel clean.”
“Enjoy it. She only visits this island once in a while. Rain and mists seem to be in charge of this place.”
“And snow. Though it never gets very cold here, just as it never gets warm. The sea, you know.”
“Weather doesn’t matter. We’ll be deep. Deep-deep. Watching our eggs.”
“Only if you will sing to me,” she said. She spread her wings, a span seeming as wide as a cloud, and launched herself into the sky. She flew unevenly until she found her balance.
AuRon followed, rose up under her, and sang:
Line of AuNor, dragon bold
Flows to me from days of old,
And through years lost in the mist
My blood names a famous list.
By Air, by Water, by Fire, by Earth
In pride I claim a noble birth.
From EmLar Gray, a deadly deed
By his flame Urlant was freed,
Of fearsome hosts of blighters dark
And took his reward: a golden ark!
My Mother’s sire knew battle well
Before him nine-score villages fell.
When AuRye Red coursed the sky
Elven arrows in vain would fly,
He broke the ranks of men at will
In glittering mines dwarves he’d kill.
Grandsire he is through Father’s blood