Fawnlum charged, as if she was going for the chest wound.

Felldrake back-stepped, held Baneck out of the way, and breathed another blast of fire at her.

The blistering onslaught completely engulfed her, and sent a wave of heat radiating all around for everyone in the crowd to feel.

Fresh cries of grief and anger arose from the Coastals, as they watched the Raijum girl, so honorable and strong, snuffed out like dried grass.  Felldrake set Baneck on the ground, and let the inundation last an extra second.

And it was with new outcries of surprise, when Fawnlum emerged from the inferno, unscathed, protected by the spell Nepta had placed on her own robe, which now covered the shield.

As Felldrake’s flame sputtered to an end, Fawnlum reached him, snapping her saber back into its scabbard.  Holding her shield in front, she jumped while his mouth was still wide open, planted a foot in the lower edge of his jaw, and literally climbed into his giant mouth, wincing at the touch of his burning teeth.

He reared up and back on reflex.  With his head going back, gravity pulled Fawnlum toward his throat.  She appreciated the assist, as she ducked low, pushing past his thick tongue, right to the opening of his throat.  There she shoved the robe-wrapped shield into the space between his lower rear teeth.

The mouth started to close.  He must have thought she was going to stab upward into his brain, for he did not bite down right away.  She had no magical augmentation on her saber, so it could not penetrate the bone.  Fortunately, she had a different strategy in mind.

She braced her feet and pushed her shoulder against the roof, while her burning hand snatched Nepta’s bottle from her belt.  Removing the cork with her teeth, she sprinkled the contents on the enchanted robe, as Nepta had instructed.  The pressure on her spine multiplied.  She set her hands against the roof of his mouth, and pushed with a mighty yell, lifting so quickly, she forced his jaws open before he could react.  She pushed him past the point his jaws had any leverage, just as the magical effect took place.

The runes on the robe glowed.

Felldrake sucked in a voluminous breath, whipping the air past her, preparing to light his furnace again.  A blue misty light suddenly appeared around the robe.  Fawnlum watched, as a miniature cloud of blue energy formed, and quickly expanded, filling the mouth around her.

She let go, lest the cloud of force engulf her too, and climbed out the left side of his maw, grabbing hold of a face-spike.

Felldrake growled with painful surprise, as the shield-cloud quickly expanded amid several clicks and popping sounds, pushing his mouth open wider, forcing the hinge of his jaw to its limit.

Felldrake growled impotently, as she climbed onto the side of his face amid his thrashing.

She felt his head suddenly jerk, and she grabbed his horns as he threw himself down.  She rolled, and fell across his neck so it cushioned her, as he slammed his head into the earth.

She sprang up with her saber in hand, and, avoiding the spikes along the length of his spine, straddled his neck, right behind his head, as he came up on all fours again.

He reared back, and whipped his head around more fiercely, but she clenched with her legs and held on.  And then she raised her saber up, flexing her powerful muscles, and with a piercing war-cry, struck.

Since her weapon had no magical assistance, its edge could not cut his scales.  But it was made with the especially strong orgite metal, with strength added by the magical runes carved along its length.  The dull backside of the blade came down with a shattering ‘crack’ on top of the wyrm’s skull.

Fawnlum felt him quiver with the hit.  Then she hung on, as he roared beneath her, and brought his head down to claw at her.  She slapped the point of the blade next to his eye, and he reared back up.   She hit him again, with another vicious blow driving a shockwave into his brainpan.

Fawnlum felt her insides lurch, as his head shot up again, and she was whipped around high in the air.  She knew the dragon’s fury.  She knew his threat.  She knew her doom.

And at that moment, she knew joy, like she had never felt before.  Her smile took in her ears, as her exhilaration swept her up, to the oneness of a true warrior woman’s spirit.  Every sight, every sound, and every detail came to her with amazing clarity.  She was aware of every eye upon her, and each duck and swing of the beast trapped beneath her legs, and her unthinking reaction to his every move.

In her joy came power, added to her lifetime of training, welling up with the strength born into her, and more might than she had every willed into her limbs.

With a shout of, “Diergon!” to her mighty god of battle, she rained punishing blow after blow upon the giant beast.

Felldrake bent and pitched through his muffled roars.  She swiped at his eye again.  He let out puffs of flame through his nostrils, and futilely jerked with each blow.

He braced his feet wider apart, as his neck started to sag, and gave a high-pitched growl, as she landed another one.

The giant head raised up, and thrust forward and down, to ram her into the dirt.

She rolled back, cutting her leg on his spines, but flipping over as his neck rolled under her.  She grabbed a spine and hung on, and avoided the impact, as he drove his own head into the ground.

She rolled onto the grass and sprang up.  He looked up, painfully slow.  He blinked through heavy-lidded eyes.  He roared behind the shield, as the blue fog started to fade.

Then suddenly he snapped his wings out, preparing to take to the air.

He crouched down, tensing, ready to launch skyward.

And his lower jaw was only six feet from the ground, still hanging open at that awkward angle.

Fawnlum drew back her saber, bringing all her effort into every tight muscle as she set herself, and struck him with her most powerful blow yet, right on his jaw.

She might as well have struck the side of a mountain.  The shock travelled down her arms, down her spine, and into her braced rear leg.  She even felt it in her teeth.  But she did not falter.  She pushed through the impact with her feet, legs, buttocks, back, and arms, driving through him, and sending the force of the blow into his brain.

Just as her saber snapped in two, his head jerked to the side like an over-sized bees’ nest, and a gurgled sound escaped his throat.

He rocked back as one foreleg lifted off the ground, his head swayed back, and his neck waved left and right above her.  She ran and snatched up Baneck’s sword, and  turned back in time to see Felldrake’s massive body collapse on the ground.

And then all was quiet.

She kept every muscle tensed, her bosom rising and falling, and her heartbeat hammering in her ears, as she kept her eyes locked on her unconscious foe.

She glanced over, and saw Sienna standing over Baneck’s unconscious form, where she had dragged him over to the crowd during the fight.

Felldrake was not getting up.

She did not relax.  Part of her would not accept the fact that he was beaten.

His open wound was exposed.  She held Baneck’s sword, the one that had first cut the scales, and flexed it tight in her grip.

The eyes of all were upon her, seeing if she would stab deep into the dragon’s heart, and finish him.

Keeping Baneck’s sword at the ready, she slowly backed away, keeping to the code of dueling, and sparing his life as he had spared Baneck’s.  She picked up the pieces of her own saber, and retreated, keeping an eye on him.

The crowd broke out in cheers, a sudden outburst of noise that nearly deafened her.  She could hear shouts of her name, but ignored it all, and ran to kneel beside Baneck, as he lay still on the ground.

Honee suddenly appeared, Powerlave beside her.  He immediately started waving people away to clear a spot.

A collective hush came over the crowd, and Fawnlum looked behind her.

Felldrake’s tail started to jerk.  He muttered some low, menacing grumbles, like a giant beast trying to rise from a drunken stupor.  He came to, looking at the thousands of weapons and hundreds of spells bared at him.

He clawed at his teeth, prying the shield and the scorched tatters of Nepta’s robe out.

Defensively, he glared at the multitude, as he slowly got to his feet.

“Do you need anything, dragon?” Saraty shouted from the ledge.

“You,” he growled.  “You and all your miserable kind will pay for this.”

“You,” she snapped, “will leave now.  As we agreed.”

“To dare order Felldrake, human, you’ll suffer as no one has suffered before.”

A deep, resonating growl started building in his throat, like the impending wrath of a god.

“The boy did not face me alone!  Now you will pay!”

“If one of our clan fights and loses, the victor may take that person’s life and we will not pursue.  You already knew that.  However, Baneck has a wife by public witness.

“Baneck had his fight, and his wife is entitled to her own.

“It was still one-on-one, you were still able to fight, and she did not have you at a disadvantage!

“She beat you!  Now leave!”

Fawnlum’s heart was beating in her chest.  Oddly, she did not want to see Felldrake struck down.  She thought of him as her own enemy, nobody else’s.  His death by another’s hand would diminish her glory.

Saraty kept her eyes on the simmering, wounded wyrm.

“Return with one of your brood, or a hundred!  It makes no difference!  Show yourself in our land again, and your life is forfeit!”

Saraty’s cheeks glowed with her flush.  She had just committed their country to war.  She raised her saber.  Now King Dregor stepped up beside her.

Then everyone else followed suit, raising ensorcelled weapons, drawing back bowstrings, and holding their spells at the ready.

Fawnlum stood with Sienna, and Felldrake suddenly looked right at her.

The intimidation power – one of the innate powers of the dragon race – hit them both under the glare of his giant, burning irises.

Her limbs started to feel cold, as if they would no longer work.  She knew the magic was creeping into her.  Part of her could not act in defiance of that great power, but would not dare to look away.

“Weakling trick,” she heard Sienna hiss.

Her friend’s strength pulled her away from the temptation to cower, and Fawnlum felt disdain for the dragon, using a mind trick when he could not win a real fight.

Fawnlum’s true self returned in an instant, keeping her eyes right on the burning draconic orbs.

He looked at her with even more deadly rage, and she smiled with the excitement of her victory.

With a horrible bellow, he snapped his wings out with a loud ‘crack!’ like a clap of thunder, and launched himself up and away, stirring a wind-funnel in his wake.

Cheers broke out, and continued after the wind had died down.  Many, including Fawnlum, kept watching closely, even after he was out of sight.