Wizardry Cursed by Rick Cook

information, did some preliminary filtering and fed it back to the relay.

The relay in turn passed the information back to the Watchers in the

Capital.

As one, the controllers in the pit looked up at Bal-Simba. The giant

wizard took a deep breath. Then he nodded.

The controllers turned back to their crystals and the attack was on.

Forty-five: BATTLE ROYAL

“Dragon Leader, you have an allied force approaching to your right. I say

again, you have friendlies approaching from widdershins high.”

What the . . . ? There were no more friendly forces. Save for a couple of

squadrons on guard duty Dragon Leader had the entire cavalry of the North

with him. Anything else in the air had to be hostile.

“Dragons at widdershins high,” the scout on the right flank sang out.

“Can you identify?” Dragon Leader barked into his communications crystal.

He hated surprises in the middle of a battle.

Silence.

“I say again, can you identify the dragons?”

“Uhhh . . .”

“Dammit, speak up!”

By now the formations were at almost the same level and closing fast as

the newcomers pulled into a shallow dive.

Dragon Leader craned his neck to see the approaching force. Whoever they

were, they had the most ragged-ass formation he had ever seen. They looked

more like a flight of geese than a squadron of cavalry.

Dragon Leader’s mount bridled and nearly bucked as the flight approached.

It took a moment to bring the animal under control and when Dragon Leader

looked up again the leader of the new force was flying next to him.

Dragon Leader glanced. Then he gaped. Then he nearly fell out of his

saddle. Flying beside him was the biggest dragon he had ever seen in his

life.

This was no adolescent cavalry mount. It was a full-grown, fully

intelligent dragon and a monster of its kind at that. It was easily twice

the length of his own mount and might have reached 200 feet. Behind and

above came dozens more wild dragons.

A great golden eye regarded Dragon Leader and his dragon with amused

contempt. Then with a flick of its tail, the giant reptile winged over and

dived for the deck. The rest of the wild dragons followed their leader

down.

Dragon Leader licked lips suddenly gone dry. “Uh, central,” he croaked

into his communications crystal. “The allied forces have taken the lead

position and are going in low.”

“Allies lead and low,” the controller’s voice came back. “Acknowledged.”

Fortuna, Dragon Leader thought, what have we gotten ourselves into?

Out on the edge of the plain the warbots waited. There were 100-ton

Murderers, 30-ton Hellfires, Skysweeper anti-aircraft units, a couple of

200-ton Gargantua fire support models and a dozen or so Springer scouts,

all in a loose grouping just behind the military crest of the ridge. They

were being held as a mobile reserve, ready to sweep down off the ridge and

deal any attacker on the plain a crushing blow to the flank.

The Springer nearest the crest of the ridge turned its head. Its sensors

had picked up something. . . .

With a rush the lead dragon swept over the hill scant feet off the ground.

A blast of dragon fire destroyed the first robot before it could even face

its foe.

The second warbot had time to half raise its laser before the hurtling

mass slammed it to the ground. The warbot next to it had only half turned

when the massive tail caught it in its midsection and sent it sprawling.

By now the engagement was general as a dozen more dragons topped the ridge

and piled into their metal enemies. Laser blasts and gouts of dragon fire

lanced through the air and parts of robots and pieces of dragon bodies

flew in every direction.

Then there were no more robots. Seven of the dragons lay motionless amidst

the carnage and one dragged a wing.

As one, the unharmed dragons galloped forward and took to the air again.

The one with the broken wing followed on foot.

Without warning clumps of guardsmen and wizards popped up all over the

plain. Immediately they spread out into long, loose lines and started

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