Samual (36 page)

It was a lengthy trip as the creature nearest to him had hit the sand nearly half a league south of them but Sam felt no desire to hurry. Unfortunately the slow trip gave him more time to worry about what three steel drakes attacking an elven caravan of refugees could mean for the future. But in time, when the beast was only a few hundred yards away, his thoughts lifted from the danger posed by the enemy to curiosity about the beast itself.

It was massive! That was his first and only thought for quite a while as he stared at it. To have read the tales and to know the descriptions of the creatures off by heart still didn't come anywhere close to explaining the impossibility of the steel drake before him. It was easily as long as a six horse wagon and as high as a man on a horse, even lying on the ground. Its back had been broken by the fall and, yet for all that it was still sinuous and sleek. And somehow this enormous creature of steel had flown! He couldn't imagine that. It would have taken at least a hundred and fifty men just to lift it off the ground. Yet he had seen it soaring, if not gracefully, then still in the air.

It was also deadly. He would have known that the instant he saw the head of the creature, even if he hadn't known that it was a fire breather. Its face was the very soul of ferocity and had a permanent snarl locked in to its five foot long jaw. A snarl that showed off all of its hundreds of needle sharp steel teeth, since the creature had no lips to hide them. Nor did it have skin to cover the gigantic talons on each of its four stubby legs. Six or seven feet long, each talon glinted wickedly in the sun, showing its razor sharpness to anyone too near. Then there were the wicked steel spines that began at the top of its head and ran all the way to the tip of its tail, like some sort of crest.

This was a creature that had been built solely to fight. Its main weapon might be the fire storm it sprayed out, but even on the ground this would be a formidable foe. The head on that massively long neck could whip round to bite a man and a horse in half, while the tail could probably decapitate anyone foolish enough to be within striking distance. To approach it as a warrior would be to face the wrath of its terrible talons, and the soldier would have few tools that could even scratch its surface. Axes might not be enough.

The red eyes that he'd seen on the steel rats were also there, but these were the size of dinner plates. What's more they were still glowing, a sign that the creature still had some life left in it. Which was the reason that he and the others stopped some distance from it. Even the bravest knew enough to know the creature wasn't finished yet. Its back might be broken, two of its legs smashed beyond recognition, but it wasn't dead.

Looking around at the other two drakes further down the way, he could see they were both in worse condition, showing the effects of their fall clearly. They had exploded on impact. This one for some reason, had survived. Perhaps it hadn't had quite so far to fall. Perhaps it was simply tougher.

“Stand clear.” Sam called out the command even as he dismounted, knowing that while he intended to get closer, no one else should. If the drake was immune to a fire wizard's magic, so too was a fire wizard immune to the drakes fire, provided he held an ice shield tight around him. Others wouldn't be so lucky. He began drawing the ice as quickly as he could.

It was a strange looking shield. And in fact it wasn't really a shield at all. It was the opposite of one. His fire shield was a wall of fire so hot that it turned anything flammable to ash and melted steel in a heartbeat. And because fire could stream, it could also deflect and repel physical forces. The ice shield was the exact opposite. It was a zone around him where every last scrap of heat and fire had been removed. The water vapour in the air had become tiny little ice crystals that looked like fog. And anything that had even a trace of heat in it would be drawn to it. But if the drake attacked him with fire, the shield would do the one thing that his fire shield couldn't. It would absorb the fire completely. He might look like a man in a personal cloud of ice crystals, but he was completely protected from fire.

Once his shield was in place, he approached the creature slowly on foot. He wasn't going to risk his horse's life in such a contest when he didn't have to. It was enough that he would risk his own. Shivering slightly with the cold and his nerves, he drew his ice shield so tight around him it was almost like a cloak. A frost cloak, that hung in the air before him.

As he walked toward it he watched intently for any sign that the creature was readying its fire. Fortunately there was none. Perhaps it couldn't breathe fire any longer with a broken back? He could but hope.

After what seemed like ages, he came within twenty feet of the creature's head, and stared into its ruby red eyes, knowing with some dread that the creature was staring back at him. It might never have been truly alive but it still wasn't dead, as whatever magic had made it kept it going, and it knew him.

“Do you speak?”

Despite his best intentions his voice came out as surprisingly thin and squeaky, which bothered him. He'd wanted to intimidate the creature. A pointless desire as the creature had no emotions. It didn't know what fear was. He also clearly didn't succeed as the beast failed to respond. But then could it? Could any machina actually speak?

It was a question he couldn't answer, despite the fact that he wanted to. Certainly no golems could speak. They had no intelligence that wasn't that of their master. This thing was probably brighter. But was it bright enough to speak? He doubted it. To speak was to have some ability however limited, to think. And to think was to be able to question, to rebel. The beast's master would never have allowed that. All it could do was obey.

“Can your master speak through you?” It was a better question. Not because the creature understood him, but because it recognised one word; master. That, and the fact that it was now in pieces, would be strange enough for the creature to ask for instructions from him. And that in turn was enough for Sam to feel the magic that was its master responding in surprise and shock. He clearly hadn't been watching his creatures closely. He therefore hadn't realised that the drakes were down, let alone that a mere half elf was approaching one on foot. No doubt he was busy preparing another attack somewhere else.

Naturally his first response, as before, was to attack. It seemed to be the master's only command. But his order was largely disobeyed as the drake found it had no fire in its belly, and couldn't move its head or tail far enough to reach him. Instead it just lay there, moving its head as far as it could on twisted screeching hinges, snapping its remaining teeth at him threateningly, but all in vain. It was helpless, which let Sam breath another huge sigh of relief – quietly. And then to remember that wars were also fought with words.

“Don't think so evil one. Your creature's broken like its comrades and soon you will be too.” He even smiled as he said it, not truly as confident as he tried to appear, but determined to upset the creature's master, who somehow he guessed, could hear every word through his creation. He could even feel the Dragon's shock and rage as he listened to himself being threatened, and futilely ordered his drake to attack again and again. This new Dragon was not a very well controlled person.

“Temper, temper foul child. Tantrums aren't going to help. Or didn't your mother ever teach you that?” This time Sam's smile was genuine as he felt the creature's master losing the last of his self-control when he discovered his creature wasn't obeying him. No doubt he would be throwing things around and foaming out of the mouth like any mad man. And while he couldn't speak through his creation, he could still tell Sam a lot about himself without realising it.

“Well then, don't listen to me. Just know that we now know about your ships. We're tracking them even as you soil yourself, and soon you'll be ours.” The Dragon's reaction was just what Sam wanted, as his incredible rage suddenly turned to outright fear as he heard Sam's blatant lie and panicked. He obviously hadn't realised that they knew of his ships, and he'd never even thought about the possibility of them being followed home. For a brief while Sam felt the Dragon's attention vanish from him, and knew he was busy ordering his creatures around.

Sam could just imagine him issuing commands to his ships not to return to his base ever again, never realising that that was exactly what Sam wanted. With no returning ships he would have that much more difficulty attacking new targets, though from the fact that he could order them, Sam understood that even his great black ships were machina. He also had no idea that he'd just confirmed to Sam everything the shadelings had said.

Sam waited patiently, his smile growing broader. Finally, there was some hope on the horizon.

“We know about Andrea too!” The moment he felt the Dragon's attention returning he threw the statement at him, and got a response he didn't expect – confusion. This new Dragon, whoever he was, didn't quite know what he was talking about, though after a moment Sam could feel the wheels turning in his mind as he recognised the word. He knew the caverns, knew their history and the Dragon's, he just didn't live there. And a no was as good as a yes to Sam as it also told him more of their enemy.

“We know that you have the knowledge contained within the caverns. Soon it will be ours too, and your machina won't be the only ones waging war.”

It was another complete lie and Sam was almost stunned that the Dragon didn't see through it. Clearly he wasn't a very clever man. He was however, a coward and Sam felt a new wave of fear running through him, a sign that he at least knew exactly what knowledge was contained within the caverns. But this time he gave no orders; there were none he could give. Clearly neither he nor his creatures were anywhere near them, though Sam would have bet every last gold piece he had that the enemy's knowledge came from them.

But then came the question Sam most wanted answered, and he thought he had a way to make the new Dragon tell him. It was going to require all his meagre acting ability, however.

“Oh and by the way, even without that knowledge we will win. The original Dragon lost, and lost badly to our ancestors. He wasn't very bright. We're a lot more powerful than them and you're only a pretender. Someone who found his secrets and tried to use them.”

This time he felt a whole raft of emotions coming from the machina's master as he spoke. There was more shock and fear at the thought of losing. Somehow this creature had never considered himself vulnerable. Then there was anger at being labelled a pretender, and a strong hint of false denial at being told he'd simply found his secrets. The enemy considered himself as more than that even if he knew the truth. But the important thing was that there was no sense of anger at being told the original Dragon had lost badly because he was an idiot. This one wasn't the original. He didn't like being called a pretender, a copy of the Dragon, but he wasn't the Dragon himself.

That question now answered, it remained only to scare the enemy, and to scare him badly. Sam though had a plan for that. One that he knew would work because this new Dragon was no disciple of the Red God. He knew nothing of tactics or strategy. Nothing of war.

“So you think the magic of your steel drakes makes them immune to fire?” For an illustration he let a small flame appear floating just above his left hand. Immediately he sensed the enemy watching him intently, more than slightly curious as to what he was going to do with the fire. Exactly as he wanted him to, while all the time the fire surging through him was growing and being shaped into a sword in his hands.

“Did it ever occur to you that there's no such thing as true immunity to magic? Just the strength to resist. But strength – all strength – has its limits and enchantments of fire protection are no match for a true fire wizard. Elven mages are a hundred times stronger than any others in the lands. You took Shavarra by evil and skulduggery, while Ragnor's Rock was also unprepared and with only human wizards at their side. Never again will you strike so easily at the elves. And you will pay for your crimes!” As he uttered his curse Sam couldn't help but shake. It wasn't just for effect, or because of the anger that was once more fighting to be released. It was because of the massive bolt of fire that was coursing through his body, almost out of control, desperate to be released. He didn't try to hold it back.

Sam let go a blast of pure fire at the stricken steel drake. Shaped into a fiery sword, it was as strong as anything he'd ever tried, and the heat from the blade almost cooked him where he stood. Which was nothing compared to what it did to its target. But just in case it failed, he reformed the ground under the creature into a swamp of liquid earth. One way or another the creature was about to die, while its master believed it destroyed by fire.

Happily the earth magic wasn't needed. At the first touch of the flame blade the steel creature began screeching, as its twisted remains buckled under the incredible heat which was easily hot enough to melt and forge metal. Its eyes, those massive ruby cut crystal eyes, instantly blackened, and then shattered as if a hammer had been dropped on them. Even its six foot long polished steel talons twisted up into unrecognisable shapes.