Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [145]
"And further risk the loss of the heir to the throne?" Jorunhast dismounted and put a firm hand on the young man's shoulders. "I think not. Let them wear the beast down. By then Thanderahast and a real warrior, Lord Gerrin, will be-Oof!"
The crown prince moved more swiftly than the wizard had thought possible, elbowing him sharply in the gut. Jorunhast felt the air rush from his body as he fell to his knees, gasping helplessly. By the time the world stopped spinning around him, the young royal warrior was halfway to the battle.
The soldiers swarmed over the great dragon like ants, and with about the same effectiveness. They hacked at the great beast's scales, and occasionally an armsman would loosen one sufficiently to strike at the meat beneath. For Thauglor, it was akin to being stung to death by gnats.
The great beast had its own bag of tricks. The one good wing swept a half-dozen attackers into dazed and bruised ruin. Its tail smashed another two. Its claws gutted a pair of warriors where they stood. And its huge jaws ran bloody as its head snaked out again and again to snuff out the life of another Cormyrean soldier.
And the only heir to the throne of Cormyr was charging into that maelstrom of death.
Jorunhast looked around. If Lord Gerrin was coming, he was taking his damned time about it. Thanderahast was wounded or dead. The mage raised the wand but saw that the crown prince was in the way. The insufferable, irritating, impulsive crown prince. A lance of flame would burn through him and into the dragon itself. Perhaps Cormyr would be a better place without him.
Jorunhast paused for a long moment, then cursed and ran down the hill after the prince. Even with all these warriors rushing about, you'd think less work would be needed to get a clear shot at something as large as the dragon. And as he ran, the mage swore to himself that, even under torture, he would never admit he was running to Azoun's rescue.
The young prince reached the dragon and struck. His blade bit deep. The sword, supposedly crafted long ago by Amedahast herself, parted a scale as if it were jelly and slid into the creature's haunch, striking to the bone.
It was as if the dragon had been struck by lightning. It heaved itself from the ground, shuddering, and tried to roll away from the attack, crushing a half-dozen soldiers and almost snatching the blade from Azoun's hands.
But the scion of the Obarskyrs would not let up. He tore the blade free and cut another long, shallow wound along the dragon's belly. It gave out a great scream and spat a huge gout of acid. Men screamed where the acid struck, but the dragon had little time to enjoy their deaths. Its serpentine neck snapped around, and its jaws closed on the small form of the crown prince.
Jorunhast shouted, but then he saw that Azoun had avoided the fanglike maw of the beast and was hanging by the loose wattles at the corner of the creature's mouth. The dragon shook its head like a dog trying to dislodge a tick, but the young monarch held fast. The wizard saw a white flash of clenched teeth as he stared at Azoun's blurred form.
Wildly, Jorunhast tore his gaze away and looked about. Half of the soldiers were dead, and there was still no sign of the elders. Where had they gone? The mage was close enough to use the wand of flame, but it might bounce back off the dragon's scales to consume him as well. And if he missed and cooked a certain crown prince…
The wizard ran to the gaping wound along the dragon's belly, now seeping thick, deep purplish blood. He glanced up to see the young prince still clinging to the hide beside the dragon's mouth. As he watched, Azoun drove his blade deep into the wyrm's eye. Dark, gold-flecked fluid sprayed out.
Jorunhast hastily bent his head away from the bloody rain he knew would come and shoved the thin wand into the open wound and shouted the command word. The wand pulsed, and a jet of flame shot deep into the creature's body.
The dragon spasmed, its body arching and flexing from the agony of the ravaging fire inside and the blade