A Dragon's Tale Ch. 12

She nodded.

Thinking of the people she'd known who'd died because of a betrayal, she had to agree.

He locked eyes with her. "Never forget that to trust someone -- anyone -- is to invite death. In our world, only the wary survive long."

"I wish you were wrong."

"Me too Kendra. Me too."

Her mind drifted back to Luminar Kossel's prediction. He had said that Illuminar had given him a message for her. He said someone would kill her and then save her life twice; that this person would be her best chance to have a true friend. Someone she could trust and with whom she could be completely open and honest. It sounded too good to be true, which experience told her meant that it probably was.

She put that out of her mind to focus on more pressing concerns.

She had a dragon to kill.

* * *

Ethan hefted his new war hammer as he waited for The Arena portcullis to open.

Well, it wasn'tentirely new.

The handle was the original one Alana had made, though she'd originally mated it to a plain steel head in Gralden. Graflex had removed the plain steel head and replaced it with the enchanted Elven steel head. Then, Alana had used her mana -- plus all the regular mana Rachel and Anthiel could spare -- to enchant the new head.

Apparently, Elvin steel soaked up mana for enchanting like a sponge and could only take weaker enchantments. That was okay with him though, as there was enough 'space' to fit the one enchantment he needed.

He asked Alana to enchant it so he could use it to channel, hold, and maybe even amplify a spell he personally powered. She had delivered and now he had his ace in the hole. He'd never doubted her, but to actually hold the results in his hands was wonderful.

It weighed about four pounds, but with the weight reduction spell Alana had squeezed in there, it was lighter than with the previous head. It still hit like a freight train though, because only its weight was affected; not its mass or momentum.

*This thing is amazing; almost as amazing as its enchantress.*

*Thank you, and promise me you'll be careful.* came her reply, dripping with worry.

*I always am.*

The portcullis cranked upward and he walked into The Arena. As before, the seats were packed. If anything, they were even fuller. It appeared to be standing room only and more than one elbow was used to get that room.

Three hundred feet away, the other Arena portcullis door was still down. The sun was bright enough that he couldn't see into the room beyond to catch a glimpse of his opponent.

"And so it begins!" The Arena announcer thundered, his magically magnified voice booming over the vast crowd. "Our devilish dragon has returned, this time fighting another trial by combat for his slave who murdered your champion."

The whole crowd booed.

"Will the dragon escape justice a second time? Or will he finally meet his well-deserved fate?"

*Biased much?" Ethan thought to Alana.

*I don't care, as long as you make it out alive.* she replied.

*That's the plan.*

"And now!" The announcer continued. "Since our beloved champion was murdered in cold blood by this brutal dragon's slave, we have a special treat for you today. You all know a new champion can be chosen by winning a free-for-all in The Arena. Our gracious, kind, and merciful magistrate has taken pity on the dragon. Instead of pitting him against a powerful champion, he must merely survive the free-for-all with as many or as few allies as he chooses."

There were boos from the crowd as the announcer continued. "Of course, we'll see how many are willing to ally themselves with a dragon twice accused of treachery and murder!"

The crowd cheered.

Ethan swallowed hard as the portcullis across The Arena opened and a couple dozen rough looking men spilled out. They were all armed to the teeth and were looking pure murder in his direction. The only silver lining was that very few of them had anything resembling armor, though a couple had shields.

Behind them all stood an ebony-haired woman with a triumphant smile on her face. Kendra stood perfectly relaxed, yet coiled like a serpent ready to strike. Despite the smile on her face, her eyes were as cold and dispassionate as the arctic wind, and looked just as ready to kill.

The announcer bellowed out once more, "Behold, the most vicious prisoners in Arcanum, let loose this one last time for a final chance at freedom... or a gruesome death! May the best man WIN!"

All of the men plus Kendra started toward him. He could see murder in most of their eyes.

He glanced behind him to see the portcullis he'd entered through had just finished lowering. Glancing over Kendra's shoulder revealed the one of the far side had closed too. A quick glance toward the open sky revealed his best option for escape. But if he left, Hailey would be condemned by default...

"And to ensure a fair fight, Arcanum's best archers have been stationed around The Arena to ensure this fight goes off without a hitch." The announcer said with rather more glee that Ethan thought necessary because announcement was clearly meant for him.

He couldn't run away, outfight them, or even fly away. Kendra had won.

Game.

Set.

Match.

She had played him like fiddle, and he was now trapped in The Arena with a few dozen killers and a trained dragon slayer. He had the distinct impression that if he still had human palms, they would be a sweat factory. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the blind panic that was welling up in the back of his mind.

"It'll be okay, it'll be fine." He told himself. After all, he had exactly zero experience fighting dozens of men at once and he couldn't even tap into his dragon side. Sure, he had a trick up his sleeve with his newly enchanted war hammer, but it wasn't exactly useful against this many people.

His mind went to Alana, then to the child growing in her womb. *So, about that not dying plan...*

The only replied was mortified fear coming over their bond.

He couldn't die.

Not now.

He was looking forward to an entire life with her and his child, and he would be damned before he let his daughter grow up without a father. He set his jaw, tightened his grip on his weapons, and waited.

He didn't wait long.

The thugs spread out and began jogging toward him, sparing no thought for each other. Clearly, there would be no allies to help him here. He gripped his hammer and spear a litter tighter. They were his only friends in in this place.

*Rachel says only a few of them will be good fighters.* Alana's voice sounded in his head; it was dripping with worry. *She says if you concentrate on quickly weeding out the weak fighters first so you don't get surrounded, you might stand a chance.*

*Now would be a really good time for my dragon side to make an appearance,* he said as he started jogging forward to meet the oncoming hoard.

*Can you...?*

*Not on command.*

He whipped his spear as fast and hard as he could toward one of the front runners. The man dived out of the way, but the spear clipped the leg of the man behind him, who didn't see it in time to dodge. He went down with a cry.

One down; over two dozen to go.

He called his spear back to his hand as he whipped his war hammer at the closest man. The man predictably dodged -- being reasonably far away -- but Ethan caught him on the return as his hammer soared back to his hand. The man fell down, but got back up almost immediately.

They were only a few yards away now.

Ethan had just enough time to whip the war hammer at someone else before shifting his stance to get a two-handed grip on his spear. The attackers seemed to flow around him like water in order to surround him. He guessed it was about thirty men. They gave him a wide berth, the closest being maybe twenty feet away.

Kendra remained outside the circle. Her walk and her expression displayed an aura of supreme confidence. Unfortunately, he completely understood why.

"Howdy fellas." He said. "I don't suppose you'd want to talk this out would you?"

No one moved.

He looked at Kendra. "What did you promise them?"

"A full pardon for the one who kills you." She smiled. "A reduced sentence for anyone who helps them... and a painful death to anyone who helps you."

"That doesn't sound like a fair fight."

"If you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck."

He growled.

She looked at the circle of men surrounding him. "If you move, you're dead." She locked eyes with him. "Please move."

Ethan waited, his head on a swivel as he tried to keep everyone in sight at the same time. Now that they were closer, he could tell not all of them were eager to end his life. There were a half dozen older fellows along one side of the circle who didn't look murderous at all.

The scrape of a boot on dry ground alerted him and he whipped around.

One of the thugs had darted forward ready to impale him with a thrust. Ethan brought his spear around, knocking the sword out of the way with the back end. He continued its momentum, and brought the blade down on the man's shoulder. He was aiming for the neck, but...

The man scream in pain at the blade bit deeply into his shoulder, severing his collarbone and cutting deep into his chest. Ethan wasted no time in pulling the spear back to a ready position.

No one else moved.

The man lay bleeding out and moaning in pain. After a few moments, the pool of blood got larger, the moans quieter, and then the man stopped moving completely.

Ethan decided to seize advantage of the moment and let loose a low growl. As one, the entire circle took an involuntary step backwards.

"Now!" someone behind him quietly hissed.

Ethan whirled around, to see the half dozen older fellows had attacked the other men in the circle.

"Attack!" Kendra yelled.

As one, the circle pressed in toward Ethan. He did the only thing he could think of. Using his powerful legs and a single flap of his wings, he sailed over the older fellows and out of the kill circle.

The older fellows all backed up toward him, showing him their backs and leaving themselves completely open to attack, even though they'd doubtless seen him jump over them. They fanned out, forming a protective semi-circle around him as the rest of the thugs fanned out again.

One larger half-circle of thugs surrounded the smaller half-circle protecting Ethan.

"Hailey told me what you did for her." One of the older fellows said. He looked to be at least fifty with wispy white hair, a large bald spot, and raggedy clothes. "I'd rather die helping a good man-- err, dragon and give Magistrate Haglath the finger than help that asshole."

There was a general murmur of assent among the other older men.

"Amazing!" The announcer's voice boomed over the stadium. "Several clearly senile degenerates have chosen to help our craven dragon escape Illuminar's justice. I wouldn't want to be them when the dragon suffers defeat."

"Thank you." Ethan said to the elderly men, then looked around to take stock.

He'd taken care of two thugs, and the older fellows had managed to kill three or four in their surprise attack. That left eighteen thugs plus Kendra; versus him and his half dozen allies. The odds were now nearly 3-to-1, instead of 30-to-1. Much better, but still not great.

Then Ethan had an idea.

He whipped his spear as hard and fast as he could at a thug whose attention had wavered. The man went down as the spear buried itself in his heart, and Ethan called it back to his hand.

Seventeen left.

Ethan whipped the spear out again, this time only clipping a thug's shoulder as he tried to dodge. He reversed the spear's direction mid-air and called it back to his hand, only to throw it again as fast as he possibly could. It hit another thug squarely, and he went down.

Sixteen left.

"Attack you fools, or you'll be cut down where you stand!" Kendra yelled.

As one, the remaining thugs charged forward.

Ethan called his spear back to his hand and darted forward, placing himself at the head of the defensive line. He had three men on each side protecting his flanks as the thugs charged.

The two thugs right in front of Ethan clearly didn't know how to use their swords. They left huge holes in their defense as they cocked their blades for an attack. Ethan took full advantage, slicing the one's sword arm -- and the brachial artery it contained -- before impaling the other through the chest.

With a massive yank, he pulled his spear out of the thug's chest and spared a moment to look around. Half the older men had been cut down, but they had sold their lives dearly. Four more thugs lay on the ground, plus the two he had just dispatched.

Ten left.

Another thug appeared in front of Ethan, this one wielding a long sword and a large round shield. Ethan faked a high thrust to the face so the thug raised his shield to block, then thrust low at his legs. The thug blocked his spear with his own sword as if expecting it, then riposted. Ethan jumped back. If he'd been a hair slower he would've lost his left arm.

In hindsight, that jump backwards probably saved his life.

"Run!" the last remaining older man shouted just before he was cut down. As the older man fell, Ethan saw an unmistakable smile on his face. He looked world-weary and in a lot of pain, but despite that there was gratitude and genuine peace on his face as he fell to the ground.

He almost looked happy to die, or perhaps to have died the way he did.

Ethan leapt into the air and spread his wings, using them to glide about fifty yards away. Turning around, his eyes fell on Kendra. She wore an amused expression, almost like a parent who was observing a child at play. She hadn't raised a blade the entire time, her sword never leaving its scabbard. She seemed content to watch and direct from the rear as the remaining thugs ran forward.

The older men had killed two more before dying.

Eight left.

From the looks of them, they were all good with their weapons too. He grimaced. While Heinrich and Serif combined had spent a month training him, he knew he wasn't that good. He needed a lot more practice before he'd be capable of taking out this many men at once.

They started cautiously walking toward him.

His mind drifted to Alana and the baby growing in her womb. His resolve had never been stronger, but his hopes rarely weaker. He didn't see how he could beat them. One or two, sure. Three or four, maybe. But not eight. And certainly not a trained dragon slayer.

*Alana, I think I'm in trouble. I'm just not fast enough or good enough to beat them.*

*Then get faster.* Her voice and their bond was dripping with worry. *You're a dragon, you can enchant yourself to make yourself faster.*

*Yeah, but to make my whole body faster...* he thought about the one time he had successfully enchanted something, right before jumping out a window to leave Alana and Elder Goman behind. The knowledge had been there all along, but the amount of mana it had taken was significant, especially when he hardened the fortress in his mind...

His mind...

What if he didn't need to make his whole body faster? What if just making his brain and reflexes faster was enough?

*You have to try something.* She pleaded.

*I'll try to increase my reflexes. If I can react faster then maybe...* He trailed off thinking.

*Then do it, and forget everything I've ever tried to teach you about enchanting. For some reason it doesn't work for you. You're a dragon; go with your instincts.*

Ethan was at one end of The Arena, with the thugs closing in on him. He leapt into the air and flew to the other side of The Arena to get some space. The thugs turned and began walking toward him again. He assumed they only walked so they didn't tire themselves out.

Lucky bastards.

He closed his eyes and focused on what he wanted. He wanted his reflexes to be faster; to see attacks the moment they began instead of partway through. Like before, he felt an instinctive pull in his mind. Something deep inside of him welled up, rising the challenge of performing magic.

He grabbed about half his mana and pushed it into his head. It went slowly, but surely. He imagined the part of his brain that controlled reflexes, and imagined the mana pouring into every cell. He imagined it suffusing and utterly enveloping every single one of those cells. Unlike the leather he'd worked so hard to enchant, his own body took the mana readily, soaking it up like a sponge.

It wasn't like practicing with Alana had been.

This was easy; instinctive, intuitive.

He could do this.

He continued to pour mana into his brain, pushing more and more mana deeper and deeper into the area that control reflexes and reaction time. His cells drank it up greedily, happily. Finally, the mana he'd grabbed was depleted and his cells still weren't full. Brimming with mana yes, but not full.

Then Ethan applied his will.

He thought about Alana and their child, and what would happen to them if he died. He used that as motivation to forge his will into iron. He pressed on the cells, forcing the mana inside them to rearrange and conform to his will.

They fought him.

They fought him hard.

Some part of his dragon nature seemed to hate being pushed around this way, even by himself. It fought to keep control, to keep his dragon brain the way it was. The battle was being waged between his desire to keep Alana and his child safe versus the primal force and rage of a dragon.

The dragon never stood a chance.

In the end, his cells obeyed. They obeyed reluctantly, but they obeyed. The enchantment began to form, and then slowly solidified. Moments later, he felt it harden and become solid.

It was done.

Or at least, he hoped it was done...

And not a moment too soon either. The thugs had almost reached him and were fanning out to surround him. As usual, Kendra was behind them and looking utterly smug and self-satisfied. There was a cold fury behind her eyes wrapped in confidence and disdain. Perhaps for the first time since Ethan had become a dragon, he truly felt like he was the prey.

"Any last words?" Kendra asked.

"I thought I'd give you all one last chance to surrender." He retorted.

"Any takers?" she asked.

None of the thugs moved, and several of them spat on the ground. They gripped their weapons tighter and scowled at him.

Summoning his best 'Back to the Future 2' impression, he said, "Look fellas, we can do this the easy way or the hard way."

One of the men leapt at him.

That wasn't surprising, but the way Ethan saw it was. It was like the world slowed just slightly. Not much, but enough. Mere seconds before, he might've been too slow to parryand counterattack.

But not this time.

Ethan spun his spear around, using the buttspike to knock the thug's blade out of the way. He continued the motion, and brought the spear down sharply. The man was just a hair too slow to parry, and the sharp edge of the spear glanced off his head and came crashing down on the collarbone of his sword arm.

The thug screamed in pain, which was short lived because Ethan jerked back on the spear and then thrust forward into the man's neck. He jerked the spear back into a ready position as the thug's face was drained of color and he fell onto the ground motionless.

Seven left.

*Behind you!* Alana shouted over their bond.

He tipped his head to the side fractionally to see someone else incoming fast and silently behind him. Without her warning, he would've been a dead man. He pivoted on his front foot and brought his spear up in a full body block, which intercepted the man's sword in the nick of time.

The man himself looked stunned.

He clearly hadn't been expecting Ethan to react at all, and had over-committed to his swing. He was just slightly off balance, which -- thanks to his training -- was all Ethan needed. He spun his spear like a bowstaff and clocked the thug on the head with the butt end. The thug went down, and Ethan finished him with a butt-spike thrust to his heart.