Switched ~ a Fractured Fairytale

Chapter Twenty-Eight ~ A Dragon's Farewell

Desperate to help, I kicked my horse forward, pulling the sword out of a guard's hand as I passed. I barely had a chance to think twice before soldiers rushed at me. Killian was already in the middle of the fighting, armed only with his sword and a small shield. I did not wish to kill, so I aimed for legs, where the armour did not cover and where a well-placed slash would cut through ligaments, crippling the unfortunate soldier.

I saw Soteria land behind Killian, roaring flames and snapping her jaws at the soldiers. Side by side, man and dragon fought, and the soldiers formed a ring around them wary of getting within range of Soteria's teeth and claws.

Two of Alastair's guards caught up with me, keeping the worst at bay, but my fencing training was quickly out to use. I battered away an oncoming spear and sliced through the man wielding it across the arm. With a howl, he dropped to the ground, clutching his bleeding arm, but I had no time to dwell on it. Three more soldiers were already advancing on me. As I fought, I lost sight of Killian in the melee.

One of the guards fell, wounded by a slash across his chest. Nerves began to tinge the blind adrenaline that was fuelling me. I'd had basic training, but I was no match for these trained soldiers. Survival instincts took over. I retreated into my mind, concentrating on parrying and blocking each sword-thrust as they came.

A loud roar to my right caught my attention. Soteria was surrounded by a ring of twenty soldiers, who had formed a shield wall, preventing her from using her claws and tail to their full effect. There was a nasty gash down her side, and her left forearm was dripping purple blood.

As mighty a fighter as Soteria was, there were simply too many soldiers. As I watched in horror, a soldier took a huge swipe to her chest, sword outstretched. She roared in pain and anger, and I saw a spray of purple scales fly through the air as the sword slashed across her chest. She staggered, blood spurting from the wound and the man darted forward again, his long spear piercing her chest. As if in slow motion, Soteria's body hit the ground with a dull thump.

Before I could really register what had happened, a blue dragon hurtled from the sky. Roaring in grief and fury, Xenia landed beside me and wrapped a wing around me. She opened her enormous jaws and bathed the soldiers in fire, wave upon wave of white-hot flames. She barely seemed to draw breath and the heat from the flames was enough to melt the swords and armour of the soldiers before her. Sheltered behind her wing, I was protected from the flames, but nothing could block out the terrible screams. Seeing her fury, the rest of the Zlarovian forces dropped their weapons in surrender or simply turned tail and fled.

I drew a shaky breath. For the first time, I dared to believe we might win.

A little way away from where Xenia and I stood, I saw Alastair riding towards his father. Where he passed, a stillness descended on the chaotic battlefield. Soldiers knelt and removed their helmets, paying homage to their fallen king. Alastair rode on, his back straight and his face calm, only his white knuckles, gripping the reins tightly, betrayed his emotions. When he reached his father's body, he dismounted. I walked quietly towards him and knelt beside him. I laid a hand on Alastair's arm and he gripped my hand tightly, his eyes never leaving his father's face. Beneath the gilded helm, King Percival was pale but peaceful. If not for the trickle of blood down his cheek, he might have been sleeping.

Four men approached, carrying a stretcher draped in black cloth. The King's body was lifted onto the bier. Alastair took one side and with slow, measured steps, he bore his father's body towards Hartfield Palace. Many of Pembleton's soldiers followed their king, leaving the battlefield empty.

Behind me, I heard a heart-breaking sound. Quiet, kind Xenia roared in anguish at the loss of her mate. As she raised her head to the heavens, I saw Soteria properly for the first time. She lay in the mud, purple blood pooling from the wound on her chest. Her huge eyes, once so full of mirth and life, were now closed. I laid a hand on Soteria's nose, silently paying my respects. Xenia's keening tugged at my heartstrings and tears sprung to my eyes. Xenia lowered her head, her eyes full of pain. For a moment, she just looked at me. As she bent her head, I rested my hand on her scaly snout.