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nose with the equivalent of a large pointed stick.

Perhaps Dragons who went looking for trouble might get their just desserts?

Just desert that smoking heap of bodies. Move on!

Ugh. His puns really were on a downhill run. Swooping back over the city, he surprised a squad of red jackets on the move up toward the Palace, and turned them into dessert, flambeau-style. Quite an improvement, if he did say so himself. Barely a shriek escaped the raging barbecue.

Back at the Palace, Aria had gathered her Council and the Sankir in front of the east wing for a quick consultation. Her eyes brightened perceptibly in his blurred vision as he swept in to land, having to execute a quick vertical drop between the tall trees and the azure Palace building. He noted a green Dragoness stationed at each window of the royal chambers. The Sankir’s troops had barricaded the front door of the Palace building. Four Dragonesses prowled alertly on the rooftops.

Turning to him, Aria said, Seen battle, Dragon?

Tidying up in town.

The Sankir said, “We were just discussing a swift assault on the army barracks in town before taking off for the North.”

While the cobalt warrior looked gratified by his holey state, Dragon’s gaze took in the Princess standing on the balcony. She gave him the desert death-stare.

That glare could freeze a Dragon’s very fires.

Paw down, Highness?

As she stepped onto his upraised paw, he realised a singular truth. He was not the only one who felt protective of their bond. A vision of a glittering Dragon hoard stood clear in his mind, symbolic of the worth she represented not in a functional economic sense, but in much deeper ways that elevated his draconic soul. He struggled for a moment to put words to his feelings. When had a simple collaboration between a Dragon and his Princess come to signify all this?

Why was the wind? Why was friendship or companionship or love?

With Aria he had a romantic connection, but none of these complicated ideas introduced by a Dragon Rider. All he knew, was that this was why Humans were not fleas, not even this tiny Princess who rode upon a large Dragon’s back. That image was wholly wrong.

Privately, he said, I apologise if I hurt you, Azania. Too hasty, these fires.

I wasn’t there for you.

I didn’t let you be – I … I ran away. He started at the insight. I suppose I was trying to prove something that ought not to need proving.

Ah, I never thought about it that way. I’m also trying to prove something, I guess. To whom? And why? There are times a girl just feels so … little, inside. And out.

Even a thumping paw monster feels the same. His five hearts warmed as they shared a mental smile, a realisation of mutual understanding. One paw in front of the next, Princess.

She clasped his wrist as he deposited her upon the ground beside Aria. Thank you, Dragon.

So much more than gratitude for the paw ride.

He made a gracious gesture. “So, what’s the plan?”

The Sankir said, “We estimate at least six hundred of the King’s troops have been jammed into the holding cells beneath the barracks. The barracks are a square of buildings arranged around a central courtyard. Battlements and defences atop, with a small open-topped tower on each corner. Now, if we can free those troops, we’ve permission to use the Palace as a fortress while we clear the rest of town. It’s solidly built, I can tell you that much. Aria, would your Dragonesses be willing to help free them? The barracks are well-defended by Gazaram’s men, and supplied with catapults and ballistae.”

“We’ll take them out!” Aria snarled.

“If I may?” Azania asked.

“What, Princess?”

Ignoring the clack of fangs toward her shoulder, she said, “We faced a similar situation in Skartun. I suggest a coordinated attack. We feint at the ground level to draw their attention. Meantime, a couple of Dragonesses attack every emplacement from above. Catapults aren’t built to fire vertically. The best they can do is to cover one another, which will be the basic design, correct?”

“Correct,” the Sankir agreed.

Aria smiled, “I can see why you value this Princess, Dragon.”

Hmm. A touch of feminine jealousy? Very draconic.

He said, “As you can tell, Aria, I make a very large, very visible target and I am not half the warrior any of your army are. Would it forever stain my honour in your eyes to confess that a certain leaning toward staying alive in order to continue to thrash the enemy does influence my thinking?”

She gave a delighted roar. “O Dragon! You’re hilarious. We are not unthinking warriors. Efficient, intelligent attacks are our style. I’m not used to working closely with Humans on military issues, by my dam’s egg, but I’ll take all the help I can get.”

A clash of fiery gazes!

Aria added, not without a challenging snap to her tone, “Even if I am a proud warrior, and a dominant Dragoness.”

“We have much to discuss,” he flirted brazenly.

By his wings, that was playing with fire, but she merely gave a smoky chuckle, “Later. Sankir, draw us a map. Let’s get this done. After we free the troops, we must fly north with all speed.”

One thing about the military-minded, they did not waste time. Not a second. Within five minutes, the combined force, minus twelve warrior Dragonesses and five Rangers who remained behind – to be supplemented just as soon as possible – poured aloft and through the streets. It was evening, the skies darkening rapidly now. Down below, no red helmet was spared. The Dragonesses made an enormous racket, bellowing and raging and vowing vengeance on the enemies of the crown. They rolled up to the barracks, situated upon the northern edge facing the taller hills, hurled a few boulders and bellowed threats,

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