Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [85]
Caelan turned to run for cover, only to stare as he saw the second dragon hovering only a few feet above the ground in front of Elandra as though pinned there.
Elandra was holding her topaz aloft, and the jewel shone with a bright intense light right into the dragon’s iridescent eyes. The creature looked mesmerized, and refused to respond to its rider’s angry commands.
Breathless and soaked with sweat, Caelan felt both astonishment and envy. He reached instinctively for his emerald, only to remember he had left it with the Choven. In the past he had foolishly tried using a warding key against the dragons, and that certainly didn’t work.
But perhaps there was another way.
He whirled around and threw himself flat as the second dragon sailed over him. Its talons just missed him this time, and the Thyzarene jeered at him contemptuously.
“Can you kill only boys and young dragons?” he yelled.
“Great warrior, what are you doing cringing on your face? Stand and face dragon fire like a man.”
The dragon coughed out a spume of fire that would have engulfed Caelan had he not rolled frantically. Scrambling to his feet, he brought up Exoner barely in time to meet a second blast of fire.
Gritting his teeth against the heat, he plunged the blade right at the flames, deflecting them back at the dragon.
Squalling in pain, the dragon flung up its head and reared in panic. It stopped coughing flames, but its beard was on fire, and black burns blistered its hide. Still bellowing, the beast dropped onto the ground and began to run its snout frantically back and forth in the snow.
Its rider kicked and shouted commands that the dragon ignored. Caelan ran at them.
The Thyzarene jumped clear of the harness straps and hurled his javelin. It struck the arm rim of Caelan’s breastplate and skidded off into the meat of his upper arm. The pain burned momentarily and was forgotten as he leaped at the man. Together they tumbled in a gouging, kicking heap.
Caelan dropped his sword, knowing it was no good at such close quarters. Blocking the Thyzarene’s attempt to gouge out his eyes, he drew his dagger and struck hard, but the Thyzarene’s dagger blocked the blow.
Cursing each other, they rolled over and over, each trying for a fatal blow. Just as Caelan was about to get one of his arms around the other man’s throat, the Thyzarene wriggled free and broke away.
Caelan scrambled to his feet in pursuit, only to find the man waiting for him in a knife-fighter’s stance. Caelan at once crouched low, holding his dagger loose and ready in his hand. Intent and wary, they circled each other.
“Caelan!” Elandra cried out.
He glanced to the side, expecting to see her taken prisoner. Instead, the rider of the dragon she held enspelled had jumped off his beast and was running, not at her, but instead to join the fight against Caelan.
He accepted the unfair shift of odds without fear. Clearly in his mind he could hear his former trainer Orlo say, There are no rules in the arena.
The Thyzarenes were much shorter than he, which gave him the advantage of reach. But they were quick, acrobatic, and fearless. Knowing the approaching man would come at his back, Caelan shifted around in an effort to recover his sword from where it lay in the churned-up snow.
No longer was this a simple knife fight. Grinning, the two Thyzarenes exchanged swift comments in their own language. Caelan’s gaze slid again to his sword. If he could get to it, he had a chance.
But they also looked at the sword, plainly determined to keep him from it.
The second Thyzarene had gray streaks in his dark hair. His body was as wiry and tough as leather. He had the cold, empty eyes of a predator, watching Caelan for any move. The other man—younger, slightly heavier—had a wild gleam in his eyes that said he was reckless and enjoying himself. He wanted Caelan’s blood, but he was not as dangerous as the older man.
Caelan circled, feinting when one of them moved, taking