The Queen's Aerie

43. To Catch Her King

The Iskaryyvans crashed over the defenders of Watt like endless waves, their fliers and their ships creating breakpoints in the Wattish front lines that they then poured all their might into widening.

The medical compound would have to be moved, but the order to retreat had not been given yet. Unfortunately, there were many dragons and, slowly, more humans who were injured enough that they could not be safely moved and no one wanted to abandon them to whatever fate the Iskaryyvan forces had in mind. It was a death sentence either way, but it was obvious to Mani that the longer Worthan could put off the decision, he would.

Mani knew that Ro was engaged with the fighting by that point, feeling the rage and fear and frustration as his mate defended his homelands. To their credit, the Wattish navy was causing massive damage to many of the Iskaryyvan ships, even at great cost to themselves. Likewise, the dragon flights somehow kept pushing back the influx of dragons, but the fighting was tooth to claw and dirty as hell.

Worthan grabbed a sheet of paper and scribbled numbers on it before thrusting it at Mani. "I don't know if Admiral Leonteinparre the Elder is on the ground, but if she's planning to call a retreat, these are the numbers of wounded we will have leave behind. Tell her people, make sure she knows."

Mani slipped the paper into a pocket, whipped off his bloody apron, and ran out of the tent. War was raging merely a few miles off the coast, clear as day, as he pelted up the paths to where the Admiralty had set up an ad hoc headquarters. Word was that Prince Tonae had been forcefully made to retreat inland by his own guards, which was a blow to morale but made sense. That left Ro's sister in charge as the field marshal, so Mani suspected she had not taken flight but was leading her troops in her human form.

He got to the entrance when he doubled over, pain lancing through his side. It wasn't his pain, though. He spun around and headed for the closest lookout point, but it was easy to find what he was seeking.

Ro was flying hard from what was clearly an attack, five dragons on his tail. He was far out over the water but Mani would recognize his dark green and red scales anywhere, and he did not have to reach through their bond to know. Ro had been injured and was fighting for his life.

Mani saw why, too. The fighting was close but there was a particularly large Iskaryyvan dragon who was targeting smaller Wattish dragons, and Mani watched it grab one by its neck, killing it instantly. It fell into the water with a large splash that Mani was too far away to hear. Ro and several of his flight — Mani thought one was Wildt — were targeting the Iskaryyvan dragon, but each had their own guards. It was a small but bloody, ruthless engagement with at most five dragons on each side. With fighting all around them out into the sea, this fight should not have mattered, but it did. Somehow, it did.

Mani studied the other dragon. It was bright red with yellow, almost gold markings. Something about it pinged his memory.

"It's an imperial!" a guard shouted next to him, and everything slotted into place. The markings were those shared by the imperial royal family of Iskaryyva, of whom a fair number were, of course, in the military.

It felt like the whole camp had gone quiet as everyone turned to watch the fight. Mani felt someone familiar next to him and he glanced over at Ro's sister, who was watching with real fear in her eyes.

"I've ordered backup for him, but everyone's got their own fight," she said, not looking at Mani.

"Admiral, you cannot go up there!" one of her aides said, obviously continuing an argument started earlier.

"He's injured, but clear headed," Mani offered.

She let out a relieved sigh, but then gasped when Ro and the imperial struck at each other, claws out. Blood sprayed through the air as Wildt fought two others to get to Ro. Another strike, and Ro was impaled, held fast in the talons of the larger imperial dragon, shrieking in agony and writhing as the other dragon bit him, over and over. Blood was pouring out of Ro's wounds, falling like rain to scatter in the wind. Wildt peeled off from the close quarters fight he and another had been waging with three opponents, making a desperate run to help his leader. Other dragons tried, some more successful than others, but it was clear that the dragon who had Ro in his grip had purposefully moved away from the pack, rose up above them. He was steadily ripping Ro apart. Ro was screaming...