as well.
Berhala saw his target go up in flames, although he had too little time for any sort of detailed evaluation.
The maximum attack range for any red was under two thousand yards. At better than two hundred miles per hour, it took barely fourteen seconds to cross that distance, which gave him time for two shots, maximum. Under the circumstances, he decided to assume that the leaping pillar of fire meant he'd knocked out his primary target and turned his head. His eyes moved as well, tracking the crosshair onto one of the sandbag-covered emplacements to the west of his primary target, and then it settled into position.
"Sherkaya!" he barked again.
More fireballs came streaking down to explode on their targets. All of the mortar and gun pits covering the northern aspect of the portal were hit, reduced to flaming crematoria filled with exploding ammunition, and the galloping pattern of overlapping concussions threw chan Tesh from his feet. He landed hard on his belly, and even as he hit, the onrushing monsters turned their attention to his bunkers.
Still more fireballs erupted, but this time the results were different as the thickness of the fortifications upon which he had insisted proved their worth. For all their terrifying noise, all the incredible heat radiating from them, the fireballs simply lacked the penetration to punch through that much solid earth and logs.
Berhala swore in furious disgust even as he pulled Skyfire up and around into a climbing loop. The open weapons pits had been devastated, but those other fortifications-!
He shook his head, unable to believe that anything could have stood up to Skyfire's devastating attack.
But those heaps of dirt and logs were still there, smoking furiously, yet still intact. He glanced across at Lairys Urkora, flying off Skyfire's starboard wingtip on his own Cloudtiger, and the other twenty-five looked up, as if he'd felt Berhala's eyes. It was impossible for either of them to see the other's expression through the reflective, spell-hardened glass of their helmet visors, but they'd flown together for almost a year. Berhala could see Urkora's own astonishment at the survival of their secondary targets in the way the other man cocked his head.
They broke eight thousand feet, converting the speed they'd gained in their original attack dive back into altitude, and Cloudtiger followed Skyfire around. The other two dragons of the flight-Daggerclaw and Deathstar-followed slightly below and to port as they leveled out at just over nine thousand feet, because, despite his junior rank and relative youth, Berhala was the flight's senior pilot.
Five Hundred Myr and Hundred Geyrsof had warned him that the effectiveness of their dragons' breath weapons was unproven. Berhala doubted that either of his superiors had truly imagined that they would prove totally ineffective against the other side's fortifications, though.
He glared down at the position a mile and a half below and twice that far behind him. The smoke and flame vomiting upward from his flight's initial targets made it hard to pick out details, even with the assistance of Skyfire's incredible vision, and the looming portal made it impossible for him to see what had happened with the strike on the fortifications guarding its southern aspect. But he could see enough to know the dug in positions on this side were still there, still waiting, undoubtedly protecting the devastating rapidfire weapons which had massacred Hundred Thalmayr's company.
Those weapons might not pose a significant threat to Berhala and Skyfire, but the cavalry and infantry coming in behind them would be another story entirely.
He glowered downward for another few heartbeats, then looked back across at Urkora once more and raised his right hand. He was careful to keep it out of the slipstream as he patted the top of his helmet, then pointed back downward. Urkora responded with a dragon pilot's exaggerated nod of understanding, and Berhala returned
Berhala saw his target go up in flames, although he had too little time for any sort of detailed evaluation.
The maximum attack range for any red was under two thousand yards. At better than two hundred miles per hour, it took barely fourteen seconds to cross that distance, which gave him time for two shots, maximum. Under the circumstances, he decided to assume that the leaping pillar of fire meant he'd knocked out his primary target and turned his head. His eyes moved as well, tracking the crosshair onto one of the sandbag-covered emplacements to the west of his primary target, and then it settled into position.
"Sherkaya!" he barked again.
More fireballs came streaking down to explode on their targets. All of the mortar and gun pits covering the northern aspect of the portal were hit, reduced to flaming crematoria filled with exploding ammunition, and the galloping pattern of overlapping concussions threw chan Tesh from his feet. He landed hard on his belly, and even as he hit, the onrushing monsters turned their attention to his bunkers.
Still more fireballs erupted, but this time the results were different as the thickness of the fortifications upon which he had insisted proved their worth. For all their terrifying noise, all the incredible heat radiating from them, the fireballs simply lacked the penetration to punch through that much solid earth and logs.
Berhala swore in furious disgust even as he pulled Skyfire up and around into a climbing loop. The open weapons pits had been devastated, but those other fortifications-!
He shook his head, unable to believe that anything could have stood up to Skyfire's devastating attack.
But those heaps of dirt and logs were still there, smoking furiously, yet still intact. He glanced across at Lairys Urkora, flying off Skyfire's starboard wingtip on his own Cloudtiger, and the other twenty-five looked up, as if he'd felt Berhala's eyes. It was impossible for either of them to see the other's expression through the reflective, spell-hardened glass of their helmet visors, but they'd flown together for almost a year. Berhala could see Urkora's own astonishment at the survival of their secondary targets in the way the other man cocked his head.
They broke eight thousand feet, converting the speed they'd gained in their original attack dive back into altitude, and Cloudtiger followed Skyfire around. The other two dragons of the flight-Daggerclaw and Deathstar-followed slightly below and to port as they leveled out at just over nine thousand feet, because, despite his junior rank and relative youth, Berhala was the flight's senior pilot.
Five Hundred Myr and Hundred Geyrsof had warned him that the effectiveness of their dragons' breath weapons was unproven. Berhala doubted that either of his superiors had truly imagined that they would prove totally ineffective against the other side's fortifications, though.
He glared down at the position a mile and a half below and twice that far behind him. The smoke and flame vomiting upward from his flight's initial targets made it hard to pick out details, even with the assistance of Skyfire's incredible vision, and the looming portal made it impossible for him to see what had happened with the strike on the fortifications guarding its southern aspect. But he could see enough to know the dug in positions on this side were still there, still waiting, undoubtedly protecting the devastating rapidfire weapons which had massacred Hundred Thalmayr's company.
Those weapons might not pose a significant threat to Berhala and Skyfire, but the cavalry and infantry coming in behind them would be another story entirely.
He glowered downward for another few heartbeats, then looked back across at Urkora once more and raised his right hand. He was careful to keep it out of the slipstream as he patted the top of his helmet, then pointed back downward. Urkora responded with a dragon pilot's exaggerated nod of understanding, and Berhala returned
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