With a yelp, Rodney turned the horse and managed to get it to move forward, away from the dragon. He turned just in time to see the beast leap toward him, eyes blazing and a low growl emanating from its wide throat.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The dragon roared again, and Rodney’s salute turned into a wild lunge to the side. His reaction time wasn’t great, but the horse, somehow, sensed the danger, and moved. Rodney clutched at the reins and leaned forward, trying to stay seated. The dragon’s breath was hot.
“Don’t tell me,” Rodney groaned.
Flames shot from the creature’s mouth. It wasn’t like in the old movies. The flame was bluish in tint, not bright, and focused. It was closer to the fire of a gas torch than a bonfire. Some chemical reaction in the beast’s organs created fumes that were lethal and flammable.
Rodney didn’t have time to think about it. The horse spun, and almost of its own accord the lance rose level with the dragon’s chest. The horse dove forward. Rodney cried out, half in surprise and fear, half in exhilaration. The lance bit flesh and the creature reared up and back, screaming its own pain and rage.
There was no time to think, only to act. He pulled the lance free and his mount, which now reacted almost like an extra limb, darted to the far end of the arena. He lifted the lance straight up and pivoted. The dragon had dropped low to the ground. Blood oozed from a large cut in its upper thigh, but its body was serpentine. It flowed along the floor, rolled and compensated for the injured limb.
Rodney tilted his head, and the visor of the helmet he wore dropped over his eyes. He tried to fumble it back up, but before he could, something amazing happened. The inside of the visor lit up like a control panel. He saw the dragon clearly, but more — he knew things about it. He saw its weaknesses and felt its power as if he were part of the creature itself. Somehow the helmet had integrated his mind, the horse, and the lance. He’d become a single entity, a weapon with one purpose, and that purpose slid across the floor toward him; blue shimmering flame licked at its chin and it stared at him through eyes as large as basketballs.
Rodney felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. He sat easily in the saddle, the tip of his lance at a slight angle toward the floor. He tugged the reins to the left, just slightly, and the horse began an odd, mincing side-step. There were three places to wound the creature that could stop it. He needed to hit at least two of them to bring it down. The wound to its leg, while painful, would barely slow it, and now that it was injured, it would feel cornered. That would render it more dangerous and less predictable.
“Come to poppa,” Rodney whispered.
He felt stronger than he’d ever felt before. He knew he should be terrified, but the longer he stayed connected with the armor, horse, and lance, the more self-awareness and courage he gained. Sure, the thing he was faced off against was huge, breathed fire, and could snap him in half with a single bite, but he still felt as if he had the advantage. The weapons he’d been given were specifically geared toward defeating this very creature. He even knew, though he wasn’t sure exactly how, that this was far from the first such dragon to enter the arena. He also knew that most of them had been slain in their first battle, and how those deaths had occurred. It was programmed into the helmet’s interface. He knew that the dragon he faced was the big daddy of them all, but he had a roadmap of how it’s brethren had been killed.
The dragon charged. Rodney directed his mount to the side, turned, and then lunged. The lance pierced the dragon behind the neck, just above the shoulder. He pressed it deep, and he knew he’d struck his target cleanly. The dragon reeled up and back, lashing out with its tail. The horse backpedaled and spun, but the tail still struck hard. Rodney and the horse slid across the arena toward the far wall.
This is it he told himself. This is what it all comes to. Then he felt a churning motion, and he realized that, impossibly, the mechanical horse was gaining traction against the skid. They stopped just short of the wall, and he was in motion again. There was nothing he could do but concentrate on the battle and ride it out. Even if he’d wanted to lift the visor, or to turn the horse and run, that wasn’t part of the weapons’ programming. The fight was on, and no matter what Rodney thought, or what he might want, it was going to reach its conclusion. Unable to stop himself, he cried out. Surprisingly, it sounded like a battle cry.
The horse plunged ahead, the dragon reared, and the crowd came to their feet with a roar of approval.
Sheppard and Mara burst into the main chamber, glancing in both directions, but no one was in sight. It didn’t seem that Saul intended to concern himself further with them, but it would be a mistake to underestimate him.
There was a screen on the wall, and it caught Sheppard’s eye. It hung over the bar where they’d first had drinks and it showed the arena clearly. Sheppard stepped up to the bar and stared.
On the screen, a dragon slid across the floor clumsily. It had been wounded, but it still looked dangerous. Across the arena, a warrior sat astride an odd looking horse. He wore a visor, and he carried a lance that flickered with energy. Something about the way the man sat the horse caught Sheppard’s attention, something familiar. Then the warrior gave out a battle cry and the horse lunged, and in that instant, Sheppard knew.
“Oh no.”
“What?” Mara stepped up beside him. “What is it?”
“”Not what,” Sheppard said, “who. It’s Rodney. That’s Rodney in there, fighting a dragon, and Saul took him because I told him Rodney could use the weapons.”
“He’s not dying,” Mara said. “Look. He’s wounded the beast twice. Maybe you have underestimated him.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Sheppard said.
He watched the screen a moment longer, and then dragged his gaze from it and grabbed her by the arm.
“You have to take me down to that cell. I have to get my people out of there.”
He saw the doubt and resistance in her expression and stepped closer, suddenly wrapping her in his arms. He held her there tightly and met her gaze.
“This whole city is about to plunge into a sun, and I’m not ready. I’m not ready to die, and I’m thinking that — if we had a little more time together — we’d find out we aren’t done with one another, either. There may not be any way off this planet, but if we can get my people out and get to the star drives, maybe we can change the city’s course. Maybe, if we can get past Saul, we can bring this place back to the days you remember — to something worth being part of. The truth is, there’s nothing to lose. What is he going to do if he catches us, or stops us? Kill us a few hours early? Send us to the arena? This is better than the entertainments that place provides, because the stakes are real.”
Mara watched him for a moment, sizing him up and testing his words for truth. Then, all at once, her expression softened.
“You’re right. Saul has been running my life quite long enough. We’ll get your people, and we’ll see what can be done. Then…who knows?”
Sheppard smiled and squeezed her arm, then let her go.
They turned and ran down the corridor toward the holding cells. There was no one in the passageway. Even the guards were watching the battle in the arena. No one wanted to miss the action, and there was no reason to watch prisoners who were locked up securely.
The two entered the large circular chamber, and it, too, was empty. They ran straight to the cell where Ronon, Teyla, and Cumby were still locked up. Mara worked the control panel quickly. At first, nothing happened.