Free Fight And The Fury (Book 8) by Craig Halloran

Brenwar said, dropping his stone, “and I don’t assume I’ll be able to do any rock fetching without an escort.” He punched his fist into his hand. “But I don’t need one. And those Roaming Rangers need more armor on.”
    “I thought they had armor?”
    “Light armor,” Brenwar said, tapping his breastplate, “and not dwarven.”
    Bayzog surveyed the spot where the Roaming Ranger Chaldun had fallen. A pair of his brother Wilder Elves had returned and begun covering all the blood with dirt. It left him with a sick feeling. He could still see the elf’s body, torn and broken. Just like Otter Bone and Horse Neck. Life taken like a branch snapped. He found Ben’s eyes.
    “Let’s get our backs to the rocks and keep our eyes on the sky,” the warrior said, unhitching Akron from his back. Snap. Clatch. Snap. “And everywhere else we aren’t looking.”
    Hoven walked over and said, “Follow my men and secure your positions.”
    “What are you going to do?” Bayzog asked.
    “I’ll be near.” The big elf hopped on his horse and eased into the trees.
    Moments later, the other Roaming Rangers led them and the horses into the outcroppings near the bottom of the cliff. One laid his hand on Bayzog’s shoulder. His face was long and heavy, more so than the others. Younger too. “Stay close to the steeds. If trouble comes close, they’ll tell you.” He rubbed one under the neck and scanned the surroundings. “They were too far when the creature struck. An error on our part.” He dropped a heavy sack near Brenwar’s feet, smiling. “Perhaps you can use these, dwarf.” He drifted away, set his back to the bottom of the cliff, and loaded his long bow. All the Roaming Rangers Bayzog could see were poised and waiting.
    Brenwar dumped the sack over and picked it up. Dozens of fist-sized round stones tumbled out.
    “Was he being wise with me?”
    Ben chuckled. “It’s better than nothing, and probably more accurate than the rocks in your head.” He nocked his first arrow. “I’m ready to get on with it.”
    Brenwar threw the stones back into the sack and hefted it over his shoulder, saying, “Soon enough, we’ll see who hits the most dragons with what.”
    With a tight grip on the Elderwood Staff, Bayzog tried to look past all the recent horrors he had seen. He was formidable now, and it was not time to get rattled, but he couldn’t shrug off the dread his body felt.
    A spell, perhaps.
    Out of the corner of his eye, he caught another dragon diving out of the sky. A volley of arrows loosed.
    Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang!
    Pummeled and feathered, the dragon spiraled downward in a tight circle, crashed into the cliff, and tumbled to the surface.
    The other dragons let out a feverish howl, folded their wings, and streaked towards the earth.
    Bayzog summoned his powers.
    Brenwar cocked back his stone-filled hands and roared.
    “Incoming!”
     

 
    CHAPTER 18
     
     
    Running full speed, Nath traversed the ledges and cut into the grey scaler’s path.
    The black winged dragon’s dark tail whipped fiercely into the rocks. Its eyes glowed with fire. It reared back, hissing. Eyes narrowing, jaws slavering, it clawed its way towards Nath.
    He beckoned it onward with his claws.
    “Come on then,” Nath said in Dragonese. “I have something for you.”
    Serpentine neck down, horns lowered, it charged.
    Nath snatched it by the horns and shoved its face into the ledge. Jaws snapping, the dragon thrashed and bucked. The awesome strength of its power tried to sling Nath off the cliff. He held on. Dug his clawed toes into the dirt and started shoving it backwards. The man-sized beast roared. Its neck jerked. Its tail flashed over its back and smote Nath on the head. Once. Twice. Fresh blood ran in his eyes.
    “Enough of this!”
    Nath slammed its head into the rock face. Once. Twice. He cranked its horns around and twisted the creature to its back. Its front legs and arms clawed at him like a wild