The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume II

time he touches his ear, he activates the communication spell.”
    “We must get rid of this messenger.”’ A moment of fear crossed Quinnault’s eyes.
    “How? If we capture and detain him, we have issued a challenge to Kammeryl’s authority, bringing immediate reprisal. If we break his contact with Kammeryl, we challenge him. If we stall and send him away we outright deny his right to rule. Your choice, Lord Quinnault de Tanos,” Nimbulan said quietly. “Every choice is designed to bring about a battle that will decide our future.”
    Quinnault deliberately turned his back on the soldier. “I have never fought a battle before. I maintain no army. I have no weapons. But I’ll be damned if I acknowledge a warrior who sees war as the solution to all problems as my king.”
    “Then we must fight a battle. But on our own terms. Kammeryl has made a mistake in not attacking us covertly.”
    “The islands are easily defended. He wouldn’t get very far.”
    “Then he must draw you into open battle. We must choose the time and place. Dismiss the messenger,” Nimbulan replied sadly. Myri’s hand on his tightened convulsively. Her healing talent would be needed many times over if the Commune of Magicians failed. He worried already that she would kill herself trying to save Quinnault’s followers.
    Quinnault turned back to face the now-grinning messenger. The soldier’s middle finger caressed his earlobe again.
    “I believe you already know our answer. Return to Lord Kammeryl at once.” Quinnault raised his hand, palm outward in a gesture of goodwill.
    Startled by the lord’s gracious attitude, the soldier backed out of the Great Hall, half-bowing in respect. Kammeryl d’Astrismos would have executed the messenger bearing distasteful news.
    “Now, how do we fight this battle, Nimbulan?” Quinnault stared at his half-eaten meal. “I have no army. Hanic is not here and not a certain ally if he arrives in time. My other allies are spread across all of Coronnan and can’t arrive in time. How will I face Kammeryl d’Astrismos and the Bloodmage?”

Chapter 36
     
    T he sun had not yet broken the horizon when Myri felt the rush of dragon wings as the great beasts rose into the sky. They circled the battlefield where two armies prepared to face each other with weapons and magicians. Myri and the three apprentice girls waited on a hilltop behind the chosen field of battle.
    Where was the third army? Lord Hanic could have been here, if he chose.
    She turned her face into the wind, cherishing the power of the moving air. Her shoulders rotated as her arms lifted to grasp the freedom of flight. If she flew with the dragons, she could observe every movement on the field and warn Nimbulan through the silver cord that still connected her heart to his.
    (We watch for you. Do not fly. Remember your unborn child,) Shayla warned her.
    She picked up Amaranth, needing his purring warmth to replace her need to fly. “Why, Amaranth? Why is the desire for flight so strong in me?” she whispered to the flywacket.
    Nimbulan had ordered her to remain well back of the coming fray. At the first sign of trouble for the Commune and the forces of Quinnault, she was to flee with the girls, as far and as fast as she might. She would rather be at his side for every one of his last moments.
    “I have to protect the baby from the battle as well as my own magic. The baby may be all I have left of him after today.” She hadn’t told Nimbulan about her pregnancy. It was still too early for her body to provide proof that she carried a new life within her. Who would believe that a witchwoman and magician had managed the impossible?
    She held Amaranth tightly, burying her face in his fur. He squawked at her fierce hug and straggled in her arms, eager to join the dragons in flight. Uncharacteristically, he pushed at her with his back paws, talons unsheathed. Unable to restrain him, Myri released him to the soaring freedom they both craved.
    Up and up the black flywacket spiraled in wider circles. He stretched his neck and wings, growing longer, wider, sleeker with each movement.
    Myri blinked against the increasing daylight. Amaranth paled. She lost sight of him against the emerging sun. He screeched his joy. She followed the sound of his voice. A shaft of sunlight caught the last of the purple/black fur as it transformed into silvery crystals tipped with lavender.
    Memories flooded her. Memories of flight, of diving into the Great Bay to