Chapter Eight
Eirrick
It had taken expensive negotiations to use the instant transport that was owned by another clan but now they were ready.
They would attack the College of Atlantica is waves. The first would be the skilled warriors, to engage with the forces posted to defend the college. Next would be the younger fighters, who would find and gather the girls to take them back to the ship. If all went according to plan, they would be back here with the College girls within a few hours.
Eirrick shifted, letting his beast come forward. He stretched his wings for a moment before releasing a plume of smoke to indicate to the others that it was time. Together they lifted off and glided around the cavernous cave. A bright light and a swirl of color enveloped them and then below them opened a hole in the floor. The College of Atlantica stood beneath them, still and silent in a darkening world.
Tucking his wings against his back, Eirrick plunged downward. His brothers were right beside him. The wind whistled in his ears and ice crystallized on his wings. Just before he hit the ground his snapped his wings open, slowing his descent. He and his brothers landed lightly.
The courtyard was empty. Eirrick glided into the entrance hall of the college. It, too, was empty. Dread made his fires flicker low and he hastily beat a retreat. If the college was empty then the Atlantica priests knew what they were doing. And if that was the case…
Eirrick threw back his head and roared loudly, calling for his brothers to retreat. He beat his wings hard, lifting himself from the ground. He sped toward the transport’s opening. As he got closer he saw bursts of fire and smelled blood. He pushed himself harder. He shot through the portal seconds before it flickered closed.
A bloodbath greeted him. Priests in red robes and scaled armor marched in a tight formation against the dragons. Blue shields of energy crackled around them, protecting them from fire and claws as the dragons attempted to fight back. Spears as tall as a man were thrown into the air. The shimmering points cut through dragon scale as if they didn't exist.
Eirrick glanced back to find none of his brothers had made it through. The young, green warriors fought with everything they had but many were already on the ground, screaming out as the priests surrounded them. There was no sign of the other clan. Rage burned hot, flaring his fires to white in his stomach. With a roar he dove forward, sending the full strength of his fires against the priests. It was repelled harmlessly by the shields but when his bulk smashed into them, they were forced this way and that.
The ranks broke. Eirrick released another breath of fire, setting the priests aflame. His tail whipped, knocking them back. Both wings snapped out and he lunged forward, bowling them every which way. His claws cut through their armor and the scent of their blood rose in the air. Behind him, the young warriors took advantage of the opening he had made. A group of them flanked his left, tearing into the priests.
The priests attempted to regroup but Eirrick and his warriors kept them scattered like chickens. Rage and bloodlust kept the adrenaline pumping through his body, leaving no time to think about the pain as spears and swords cut through scales, sending great spurts of blood into the air. He was a Dragon. He would heal quickly.
A cry of anguish broke him from his single-minded determination. He twisted to see one of the young warriors motionless on the ground while another fought to hold off half a dozen of the priests. Claws swiped and spears jabbed. One of them pierced clean through the warrior’s shoulder.
Another young warrior stood behind him, frantically working at a machine. Turning the transport back on. Eirrick dashed to their aid. He threw himself before the warriors, deflecting two spears meant for them and released another fireball. There was a cry of triumph and the floor of the cave disappeared. Priests and dragons fell alike. Eirrick wheeled about, diving to catch the dragons whose wings were shredded. His brothers caught the warriors as they fell and flew back to safety while the priests disappeared through a mist of cloud.
The cave floor materialized again. Eirrick set down and glanced over his ranks. At least three were dead. Two more possibly dead. The wounded were too many to count. He shifted and turned to the warrior who had opened the transport.
“Get us to the ship.”
The young man nodded. Within a few moments, another portal had opened and they limped into their ship.
As soon as they were back, he drove a fist into the wall. There was a traitor on board. His lips pulled back in a snarl as he sought out the command staff, the only ones who knew about this happening in time to tip off the Atlantican priests. When he saw him coming, Lorro dropped to a knee, face paling.
Eirrick snarled. “What did you do?”
“There was a harem girl. She wanted to know why I needed my bed kept so warm… I didn't see the harm—"
Eirrick resisted the urge to drive his fist into Lorro’s face. Instead, he wheeled about and raced for the harem. As he got closer, it occurred to him that the women should have come to greet them. To heal them. Dread snuffed out his flames.
When he got to the harem, nobody answered his calls. He rushed in to find the guards he had left on the ship dead. Mother lay in the center of them, a pool of blood surrounding her. Two of his brothers pulled up beside him. Eirrick directed them to check the guards, though he knew there was no hope for them and dropped to his knees beside Mother. She had a pulse, though it barely fluttered.
There was no sign of any of the other women.
“Get her to the healing rooms,” he barked at his brothers. “There is a chance to save her.”
“The others are all dead,” one of them replied. “He knew—"
“Healing rooms,” Eirrick snarled.
He rushed to his chambers. His stomach cramped and he prayed he would not find what he most dreaded. But they were empty. He returned to the warriors and sent them to search the ship for anybody who might have been left behind.
There were none.
***
When the command staff was gathered, Lorro knelt before them and held out the sword Mother had gifted him when he graduated his training. Eirrick took his seat and glanced at the others. They were all ashen-faced. Mother would survive but barely. All eyes were on Lorro.
“Our losses are my fault. I know the laws surrounding these matters and I let myself be blinded. The blood spilled today is on my head. Let my blood then answer for it.”
Eirrick was tempted. And he was certain the others were too. He waited to see if anyone else would speak but since this his mission, he knew it was ultimately his decision to make. He studied Lorro for a moment. The dragon had always had a weak spot for women but no one had ever thought it was this much of a weak spot. He trusted his brothers’ loyalty. In some cases, though, their wisdom was left questionable.
In the end, however, there was a choice to be made. Revenge would be sweet but Mother had raised him, had raised them all, to know there were far more important things to be aware of. He let his fires die down and nodded slowly.
“Many men have been beguiled by a pretty woman. It is as much our fault for not seeing what weaknesses you were falling for as it is your fault for letting a girl blind you.”
Lorro stood, sword still naked. “If not my death, what is my punishment?”
“I will decide that once our women have been returned to us.” Eirrick stood. “Can we trust you not to tell our secrets until then?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
One of the others stood. “I inspected the harem. There were signs of dead men that had been removed. Our women are strong, they killed priests as they came to steal them. They will survive what the priests want from them.”
Eirrick smiled wryly and shook his head. “This was not any random priests. They were Jyah’s men. And he does not want our women. He wants me.” His eyes burned as his smile grew. “So let’s give him me.”