Dragonfang Read Online Free PDF

there was none. Its entire body seemed to be encased in rock-hard armour plating. He slashed at it anyway, then darted out again and jumped for safety. The whole manoeuvre took only seconds.
    The crowd went wild, cheering the gladiators till they were hoarse. No one had ever lasted this long against the mantid. The fact that they had done so was miraculous; the fact that they still had all their limbs was unprecedented.
    Daretor caught sight of Osric still standing by the column. The dragon guardian’s face was tense as he leaned against the balustrade. He raised his hand and made quick jabbing movements towards his nose. Daretor frowned, then something dawned on him. He called to Zimak.
    ‘Distract it!’
    Zimak stared at Daretor with a look he reserved only for the profoundly insane. Since the mantid was scuttling in his direction anyway he simply ran – or jumped – for his life. The mantid veered after him, slamming into the restraining wall of the stadium. The impact ripped out chunks of wall and pulverised dozens of pitchers. It also knocked two archers into the stadium. The mantid pounced on them, rending them to pieces and stuffing them into its twitching mandibles. The crowd roared.
    Daretor launched himself through the air, landing on thecreature’s neck. Utter silence fell instantly. Even the King leaned forward, shocked by the sheer boldness of the move.
    Before the mantid could react, Daretor leaned down and plunged his sword up its nostril, burying the blade to the hilt. The mantid reared up, screeching in mind-sawing agony. Daretor was flung off to land fifty feet away. Zimak hurried to his side and helped him up. Daretor was dazed, but there was no further danger from the mantid.
    With an ear-splitting screech it pitched over backwards and lay with its massive legs twitching in the air, a green ichor pooling on the sand beneath its head.
    Complete silence reigned for what seemed like an age. Then the crowd erupted, going berserk. Money, charms, food, and items of clothing – including women’s underwear – rained down into the arena.
    Daretor and Zimak stumbled to the centre of the arena and saluted first the King and then the crowd. Pages ran out and escorted the heroes away amidst chanting adulation.
    ‘So let me get this right,’ Zimak said, addressing Osric. ‘Because we won the Games we get our freedom, but our freedom is really that we just get to live here for the rest of our lives as eunuchs. Is that it?’
    Osric looked perplexed. ‘There is nothing better these people can offer.’
    ‘Gah,’ said Zimak. ‘Just tell me one thing. Who do we petition about this?’
    Daretor took Osric by the arm and sat him down. ‘Osric,’ he said, sitting beside him, ‘we are not staying here. We plan to escape and we want your help.’
    Osric stared at him. ‘I do not understand.’
    ‘I have learned many things from you. I have learned that King Amida and his people rule these lands because they control the dragons, and none can fight against them. Yet you have also said that your own people rear dragons. Why do you not fight back?’
    ‘Who can fight back? We have no female dragons of the warrior strain left; just sickly males. Only here are the crimson females to be found. Bazitian dragons have become weak, they do not breathe fire, and are small compared to these.’
    ‘What would happen,’ Daretor said, slowly, ‘if you stole the crimson female in your care and took it back to Bazite? It is female, is it not?’
    Osric looked at him in frightened wonder. ‘S’cressling is female, yes. And I – I would be a hero, the saviour of my people. But –’
    ‘But what?’ Zimak asked, impatiently.
    ‘I am scared. I was brought here as a boy of eight years. Perhaps my people will not want me any more.’ His eyes brimmed with tears. An old pain had surfaced and Daretor saw that he must move carefully.
    ‘Is there no prophecy amongst your people of one who will rise to liberate