Chapter III

A heavy fog blanketed the valley, leaving anything past ten feet near invisible. Jim muttered a soft curse to himself as he surveyed the field in front of his trenches. Everything was already in place, Ryan had taken his men, under the cover of night, to get in position for the assault. A messenger had already reported they were in place and ready. Nicholas, Curtiss, and Alan were in position, the trenches already prepared, and the only thing keeping the assault from happening was the fog.

Glancing towards the men that had volunteered to stay behind, he could only offer a slight shrug in a near apologetic way. It was hard, to have thrown together a plan, dedicated manpower and resources to it, and run into a delay like this. The sun would need to burn the fog from the field, but the air was still overhead, and smoke, mingled with clouds, was keeping daylight from showing. It might as well have been nightfall.

"The lands adapt quickly to their new masters," Alan climbed up the trench wall and shook his head. "It was something one of the Generals I served in my first tour told me. Things are slow to turn good, but quick to obey the will of evil. So, you still think this plan will work?"

"No. Things are changing. We'll have to make our plan work for us in a different way. Have Nicholas pull out now, under the cover of this fog. We'll be attacked whether we like it or not."

"You're certain about this, Jim?"

"Of course. It's what I would do if I were in their position. Superior force, a chance to flank around an entrenched enemy…I'd be expecting them shortly. We'll meet them as best we can manage, call in for the mounted cavalry and sweep them. Possibly order a fallback, let them have this firetrap we're standing on."

"How does this change our situation at all, then?"

"Easy. They'll be attacking from any given side, not a full-out charge. I'd expect assassins first, sneaking around the trench system to assault watchmen, then a smaller wave of footmen, then the main assault. They're smart, especially if they've gotten this far."

"I'll tell Nicholas," Alan jumped back into the trench and started to pick his way back to where the battalions were staged.

Jim turned and glanced back at the fog, watching the wisps of mist and smoke swirl. It was an almost hypnotic effect, small vortexes and eddies in the air, all of them created by the most subtle of breezes.

A breeze on a windless day. Jim glanced skyward and saw the dark shadow streak overhead. Jumping down, he shouted to the watches nearest him to sound the alarms, then turned and started running towards the 'staging grounds'. A dragon meant that everything had changed. Tactical advantage was lost. Nicholas, Alan, Curtiss, and every last man trekking across the field would be defenseless against the onslaught headed their way.

The first blow came from siege equipment. Already targeted from the onslaught a while back, they had little trouble firing at a target blindly. It was a textbook assault, using the siege to keep the target's head down. Soon, the enemy advance would be too close to use ballistas and catapults, arrows would be the preferred replacement, and then the enemy would rush the gates.

Jim ducked as the earth over his head exploded. Dirt and rock collapsed into the trench. Behind him, he could hear a few of his men shout, metal striking metal. A horn sounded sharply across the field, signaling the end of the artillery barrage. So, there wouldn't be arrows this time. They had marched straight into the trenches.

Someone jumped into the passageway ahead of him, a sword in hand. The armor was, at a glance, different from the rest of the regiment, and Jim didn't bother to hesitate. His sword glinted faintly as it slid from the sheath to meet the intruder straight on. Before the first few blows could even be countered, though, another horn sounded. His adversary, a human wearing the dark armor of his allies, hesitated and was soon dead because of his mistake.

Jim caught his breath and glanced around, checking to make sure there was no one else that might cause a problem. The sounds of war, steel striking steel and shouts of wounded and dying, were all absent from the trenches. He could have called in the cavalry, but without knowing where the enemy was, the act was useless.

A flash through the fog caught his eye, and he remembered Alan. The dragon had followed them. Jim started running again. The smoke and ash was hanging far heavier than before. He could hear the sounds of a horse running off somewhere, the only noise that seemed to stab through the silence.

Something tripped Jim up, sending him sprawling into the oil-soaked straw that blanketed the trench floor. A quick glance told him all he needed. Nicholas. The siege bombardment had done him in. His second would have taken over, and Curtiss not far behind.

The area was, otherwise, empty. Silence still hung heavier than the fog, which was beginning to clear. Jim glanced back, just to make sure that there was no massive rush of the dark forces bearing down on his position. There was nothing, just a heavy wall of fog. He glanced forward… The fog was far less dense ahead, but the smell of ash and fire was lingering.

Stepping forward, the fog was suddenly gone. Jim found himself in a glade, charred and littered with what remained of two full battalions of his troops. The fog formed a wall that circled around the area, creating the illusion that the place was some primitive arena of death. Dragon's fire had burned it away, leaving nothing behind.

So that's why they were waiting in the mountains. A dragon. They were waiting for a dragon to come and level the opposing force, route out the entrenched thorn in their side. He had walked right into their plans, too, by sending a force out into the open, where the trenches couldn't offer some sort of protection.

The sounds of hooves caught his ear as a horse broke through the wall of fog. Jim already had his blade up, but lowered it as soon as he saw there was no rider. However, there was another detail that caught his eye soon enough, and that was the decorations on the saddle that bore the crest of his regiment. His cavalry had already been hit.

The wind stirred, fog rolling off the far wall as wings beat and stirred. The Knight turned and watched the dark shadow approach through the darkness. Gripping his sword, he waited to meet it headlong, ready to share the fate that claimed the rest of his men. The dragon burst through the fog and landed with a serpentine grace that, for a few moments, left Jim awestruck. Dark and evil though it was, the beast had a presence that was unmatched by most other creatures in the world.

The dragon lowered his gaze down on the human, a cold smirk showing. "Only human. You know that you can't win."

The fog hung heavy through the rest of the morning, on into the afternoon, save for where the trenches and twenty-third regiment had been. There, the fires burned hot from the lamp-oil that soaked the ground. Under cover of the fog, the troops of the Dark Dragon's army moved quickly, skirting the funeral pyre, but keeping close enough that they could scavenge what weapons remained from the humans, before charging onward towards the Southern Mirkilains.