‘I’m glad she came along,’ Belgarath said. ‘For some reason it’s comforting to have her around.’
Garion’s visor concealed his smile.
The village of Dal Esta was perched on a hilltop, and they could see the sooty red flames shooting up out of burning barns and houses. They rode up the hill a ways and found the wolf waiting for them. ‘One has seen the creature we seek,’ she advised. ‘It is feeding just now on the other side of that hill where the dens of the man-things are.’
‘What’s it feeding on?’ Garion asked apprehensively.
‘A beast such as the one upon which you sit.’
‘Well?’ Zakath asked.
‘The dragon’s on the other side of the village,’ Belgarath told him. ‘She’s eating a horse just now.’
‘A horse? Belgarath, this isn’t a good time for surprises. Just how big is that thing?’
‘About the size of a house – that’s not counting the wings, of course.’
Zakath swallowed hard. ‘Could we perhaps reconsider this? I haven’t taken much joy in my life until recently. I’d sort of like to savor it a little longer.’
‘I’m afraid we’re committed now,’ Garion told him. ‘She doesn’t fly very fast, and it takes her quite a while to get off the ground. If we can surprise her while she’s eating, we might be able to kill her before she attacks.’
They rode carefully around the hill, noting the trampled crops and the carcasses of half-eaten cows. There were a few other dead things, as well – things at which Garion carefully avoided looking.
And then they saw it. ‘Torak’s teeth!’ Zakath swore. ‘It’s bigger than an elephant!’
The dragon was holding down the carcass of a horse with its front claws, and she was not so much feeding as she was ravening.
‘Give it a try,’ Belgarath said. ‘She’s usually a bit unwary when she’s eating. Be careful, though. Get clear of her as soon as you sink your lances into her. And don’t let your horses go down. She’ll kill them if they do, and a man on foot is at a serious disadvantage when he’s fighting a dragon. Our little sister and I will slip around to the rear and attack her tail. She’s sensitive there, and a few bites might distract her.’ He dismounted, walked some distance away from the horses, and blurred into the shape of the great silver wolf.
‘That still unnerves me,’ Zakath admitted.
Garion had been looking carefully at the feeding dragon. ‘Notice that she has her wings raised,’ he said quietly. ‘With her head down like that, they block her vision toward the rear. You go around to that side, and I’ll go to this one. When we both get into position, I’ll whistle. That’s when we’ll charge. Go in as fast as you can and try to stay behind that upraised wing. Sink your lance as deep into her as you can and leave it stuck in. A couple of lances hanging out of her should impede her movements a bit. Once you get the lance in, wheel and get out of there.’
‘You’re awfully cold-blooded about this, Garion.’
‘In this kind of situation you almost have to be. If you stop to think about it, you’ll never do it. This isn’t the most rational thing we’ve ever done, you know. Good luck.’
‘You, too.’
They separated and moved out slowly at some distance from the feeding dragon until they had flanked her on either side. Zakath dipped his lance twice to indicate that he was in position. Garion drew in a deep breath. He noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. He shook off all thought and concentrated on a spot just behind the dragon’s front shoulder. Then he whistled shrilly.
They charged.
As far as it went, Garion’s strategy worked quite well. The dragon’s scaly hide, however, was much tougher than he had expected, and their lances did not penetrate as deeply as he might have wished. He wheeled Chretienne and rode away at a dead run.
The dragon shrieked, belching fire, and she tried to turn toward Garion. As he had hoped, the lances protruding from her sides impeded her movements. Then Belgarath and the she-wolf darted in, savagely biting and tearing at the scaly tail. Desperately, the dragon began to flap her sail-like wings. She rose ponderously into the air, screeching and belching out fire.
‘She’s getting away!’ Garion threw the thought at his grandfather.
‘She’ll be back. She’s a very vindictive beast.’
Garion rode past the dead horse and rejoined Zakath.
‘The wounds we inflicted are probably mortal, aren’t they?’ the Mallorean said hopefully.
‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Garion replied. ‘We didn’t get the lances in deep enough, I’m afraid. We should have backed off another hundred yards to pick up more momentum. Grandfather says that we can expect her back.’
‘Garion,’ Belgarath’s voice sounded in his mind, ‘I’m going to do something. Tell Zakath not to panic.’
‘Zakath,’ Garion said, ‘Grandfather’s going to use sorcery of some kind. Don’t get excited.’
‘What’s he going to do?’
‘I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.’ Then Garion felt the familiar surge and rush of sound. The air around them turned a pale azure.
‘Colorful,’ Zakath said. ‘What’s it supposed to do?’ His voice sounded nervous.
Belgarath came padding out of the darkness. ‘Good enough,’ he said in the language of wolves.
‘What is it?’ Garion asked.
‘It’s a kind of a shield. It’ll protect you from the fire – at least partially. The armor should take care of the rest. You might get singed a bit, but the fire won’t really hurt you. Don’t get too brave, though. She still has claws and fangs.’
‘It’s a shield of sorts,’ Garion told Zakath. ‘It should help to protect us from the flame.’
Then from off to the east there was a scream and a sooty belch of fire up in the sky. ‘Get ready!’ Garion said sharply. ‘She’s coming back!’ Cautioning the Orb to behave itself, he drew Iron-grip’s sword. Zakath also pulled his broadsword from its sheath with a steely hiss. ‘Spread out,’ Garion said. ‘Get far enough away so that she can only attack one of us at a time. If she comes at you, I’ll attack her from behind. If she comes at me, you do the same. If you can manage it, try for her tail. She goes all to pieces when somebody attacks that. She’ll try to turn around to protect it. Then whichever one of us is in front of her might be able to get a clear swing at her neck.’