CHAPTER 16
‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’
The warrior who believes in this falsehood lives
with the edge of a blade at his throat.
-FROM THE BOOK OF ST. ALBANS-
War, in the air against Great Wing and Winged Beastie, is a savage spectacle to behold.
There is no mercy. There is little honor. It is a duel to the death using flailing talons, the blue-white tongues of dragon fire, the powerful beat of feathered wings; the c***k from a Beastie’s leather bat shaped wings snapping in the air. There are screams, the roar of Great Wings screeching their war cries and the bellowing of enraged Winged Beasties.
A dance of death.
Massive bodies twisting and turning in the air. And for the dead a harrowing fall from the heavens to the harsh and unyielding earth below.
A macabre symphony o
