THE PRIMAL ROAR could be heard in the deepest corners of Wyrmgate.

  The bridge to the castle shook with the feet of tens of heavily armored knights stampeding across it. The screams of those already losing in battle drowned out the sound, but the vibration underfoot added to the bedlam.

  A single man was making slow progress up the bridge, defeating all comers despite being heavily outnumbered. The man didn’t seem to tire as he slashed one soldier in the neck with his longword while knocking another to the ground with his armored wrist. A quick kick knocked another so hard, he left a dent in the stone of a nearby wall before collapsing to the ground.

  “That’ll buff out, I’m sure!” the man quipped, his helmet muffling his words. A long yellow cape waved behind him despite the lack of a breeze making him look even more impressive. The man laughed as he took out another set of four guards in a matter of moments. “You’ll have to do better than that, Crowe!” he yelled at the top of the castle towers.

  As if in answer, the great wooden doors to the castle flew open and a score of men came out all at once. Unlike the other defenders who had been approaching one at a time giving the man plenty of time to prepare his attacks, these men seemed much more well trained. They circled him completely, keeping eye contact with one another and making sure none made a move until all were ready to strike.

  “Well, perhaps I will need to break a sweat after all,” the man with the yellow cape chuckled. The defenders watched cautiously as the man unclipped his cape, allowing it to blow away majestically despite the air not moving at all. The cape gone, the sigil on his chest armor was finally visible: a yellow dragon in flight.

  “It’s him!” one defender shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. He stumbled away slowly, jumping off the bridge. Several others looked at one another cautiously, all backing away, giving the man space. “Run!” another shouted. “It’s Dragontongue himself!”

  As the defenders began to scatter, Bert laughed as he removed his helmet, revealing his chiseled face with a carefully manicured beard. He eyed the soldiers carefully as he reached into a satchel near the dagger at his waist. He removed a metal whistle and blew it loudly, the sound silencing all others and piercing through the sky. As the whistle echoed off the buildings nearby, the clouds opened up and several dragons simply appeared from nowhere, blowing fireballs and ripping blocks of stone from the castle with their powerful legs.

  A large red dragon snatched a guard from the bridge right before he was able to fire an arrow that might have taken Bert in the back. The dragon tossed the man in the air, earning a terrified scream for his effort. A wet crunch announced the end of that threat as the man landed directly between dagger-sharp teeth. He would scream no more.

  “Best not to skip a meal around these wyrms!” Bert said, winking at the soldiers still watching him.

  A trio of medium-sized blue dragons who had been circling above suddenly dove and bulled feet-first into a tall bell-tower at the same time, knocking it into an alley where five defenders had run to hide. Their screams were silenced by the collapse of stone and the deafening ringing of the bells, dust filling the air around them.

  “It would seem the bells announce more than prayer times this day!” Bert chuckled, daring the men to approach by pointing his sword at them one-by-one.

  Bert blew the whistle once more and a large yellow dragon dropped from the air, rushing full speed at the now-closed wooden doors of the castle. The beast connected with the doors at full flight, its head protected by an enormous spiked metal helmet. The wood of the door was no match for Yellow, who pulled his body back from the shattered doors, settling on his haunches beside Bert.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Polite of you to knock,” Bert chuckled as he stood beside his friend.

  Defying what should have been possible, the dragon somehow winked at Bert, who laughed as he did.

  As the two shared a moment, Darian Storme, Cat’s betrothed waddled out from the broken door. The man was garbed in his battle armor, metal from head to toe. His longsword noticeably not yet drawn, still hanging from his belt. Bert noticed a dark patch between the man’s legs: it appeared he’d wet his britches!

  “Now…you just stop right there, Bertram Dragontongue,” the knight said feebly. “You need…to leave. Right now.” There was no heat behind his words, despite the man drawing his sword.

  “Leave us, Storme,” Bert replied in a loud voice. “We were friendly once, but your time here is over. And your time with Lady Catrin has come to an end as well. Go home and see to your family and you will be spared.”

  Needing no time to consider the offer, Darian tossed his sword immediately, the metal clanging on the stone below the bridge. “Oh! Thank you, Sir Bertram!” he replied, tears flowing from his eyes. “I’m forever in your debt!” The man ran past Bert and Yellow, stripping from his armor as he did. He tripped over his boots as he jumped from the bridge, scraping his face on the stone road, but got up and kept running.

  Leoric Wyrmblessed, traitor and Catrin’s father was next out the door, shadowed by Garrick Crowe himself. Leoric had returned right when Bert and Catrin were about to save Wyrmguard. The man had ruined everything! Garrick Crowe was somehow worse. Despite being defeated by Bert and the Wyrm People, the man had slithered away, finding succor with Leoric. Well, now they would meet their end.

  The two men carefully approached Bert, who simply stared them down. Astonishingly, Bert tossed away his sword, and waved the men on, inviting them to attack. Crowe came in first. The shorter man thrust his sword at Bert, hoping to catch him unaware. Bert spun just in the nick of time, the sword sparking slightly against his armor. Laughing, Bert caught the blade between his chest armor and arm, twisting it from Crowe’s hand. He grabbed the man by his cloak as he turned to run, punching Crowe with a closed fist, knocking the man out. Bert picked up Crowe with two hands, lifting the man over his head. He turned just in time to see Leoric rushing him. Bert casually tossed the man at Cat’s father. The two collapsed on top of each other. Bert walked over, checking to make sure each man was out of commission. “I knew you two were close, but I didn’t know just how close,” he quipped, earning a rumbling laugh from the dragon.

  “Oh, Bert!” came a woman’s voice from inside the castle.

  Bert spun around, just in time to catch Catrin Wymblessed as she collapsed in his arms.

  “You did…all this,” she gestured at the bodies, ruined towers and burning fires, “for me?”

  “For you,” he replied, looking right into her green eyes, “I would watch the world burn.”

  “Oh, Bert…” Catrin melted into his arms, her eyes fluttering.

  Sir Bertram Dragontongue, the first of his name, lifted Princess Catrin Wyrmblessed carefully and whistled one last time. He needed no metal whistle this time. His whistle was pure and strong without aid. Yellow lowered his neck, allowing them to board and the trio took off into the night sky.

  “WOULD YOU QUIT that?” Cat said across the dull remnants of the fire.

  “Huh, what?” Bert wiped his eyes, and closed his mouth, noticing drool pooling up on the cloak he was using for a pillow on the dirt of the forest floor. He looked around the camp. Besides the small fire and Yellow dozing just off to the side, the camp was empty.

  “You’re whistling in your sleep, Bert,” Cat explained.

  Bert shook the dream from his head and looked at the princess across from him. Her clothes were dirty and her hair was a mess. He looked down at himself. No armor, no yellow dragon sigil. He felt his face. No chiseled chin or perfectly manicured beard. Just something sticky left over from the squirrel they had roasted. If she was dirty, he was something far beyond.

  Just a dream them.

  Still, she was there with him. Yellow was there too. The three were safe and together.

  Bert smiled and nodded his understanding to Cat. “Sleep well, Cat.”

  “You too, Bert.” She rolled over, her back to the fire.

  Bert watched as she settled and listened as her breathing slowed.

  He smiled. Maybe he wasn’t The Dragontongue, feared warrior saving a beautiful princess from certain death. Nevertheless, things were fine just how they were.