“They’re making a point,” he said.

“A stupid one,” she replied.

He could not argue that.

More disarray was occurring through the rest as the Nadirii battle cry could be heard and all around them, Nadirii warriors came charging out of the forest, except to their left flank. That was fortified by Zees, gnomes and female Airenzian.

They simply came out, surrounding them, lining up behind the wolves, cutting off any means of escape.

The charging squad at the front was easily picked off one by one by archers higher up the road to the Bay.

Gods, he hoped this didn’t last much longer.

Frey looked down to where Cass sat astride his horse, watching, just as another AG captain set two squads to charging the road.

He watched Cass turn his head and look up.

The Regent nodded.

Frey looked to the beast at his right.

“Go, boy,” he murmured, jumped from the railing to the balcony and stood at it, the wind from the dragon’s wings whipping his hair about his head and his mantle about his body.

The male went straight up from where he had rested.

And up.

The female, down the cliff, rose with him.

He felt his ice princess come up on one side.

He then felt someone else come to his other side.

And they lined up at the railing, not only Finnie and Cora, but Circe, Maddie, Silence, Ha-Lah and Farah.

Frey did not protest.

It was now done.

One way or another.

He just hoped he didn’t have to give the order to affect one of those ways.

A great noise came from behind them and they all twisted to look.

The sun in the sky was weak.

Still, it was blotted out when the entirety of his dragons soared overhead.

They created a stiff breeze that floated down on them, mussing his hair, as Frey turned around.

The dragons halted above the standing in the plain, pulling back their heads and chests, their wings flapping, clawed legs stretched out, but long necks arched up with heads down, hovering over the enemy, ready to strike.

No, it was now, one way or another, it would be done.

He just hoped it would be the right way.

Frey held, and they held.

Everyone held.

It started at the right flank.

Soldiers setting their weapons to the snow and taking their knees.

The long moments it took from the first squad to ripple to the next felt like an hour.

But then the next laid down their arms.

And the next.

The one before it.

The one behind it.

Right to left.

Back to front.

The wolves slunk back.

The mermales launched their tridents and disappeared in a whirl.

The warriors surrounding them and the ones that lined the lane rode in to process the surrender.

And it was done.

A New Airen.

Marian

Silbury Henge, Argyll Forest

AIREN