By Christopher Rowley
THE 109TH DRAGONS
The so much dependable bunch of dragon warriors and human attendants ever to march on crusade had simply been reformed while Bazil Broketail and his human boy, Relkin, again from a fruitless look for Bazil's loved eco-friendly dragoness. longing for motion opposed to the evil enemy forces, the dragon and his boy have been thrilled to find that in their absence a brand new sword were crafted for Bazil by means of the elves, a sword much more strong than the only he'd formerly misplaced. So armed, how might they in all likelihood fail to defeat the entire foes who awaited them?
But there has been one threat neither Bazil nor Relkin might be able to count on - the forces of the Goddess of loss of life had marked them either as her selected sufferers for seize and sacrifice...
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Extra resources for A Sword for a Dragon (Bazil Broketail, Book 2)
The Crossing 9. The Crow and the Beanfield 10. The Road and the Common 11. Hard Going 12. The Stranger in the Field 13. Hospitality 14. ''Like Trees in November" 15. The Story of the King's Lettuce 16. Silverweed 17. The Shining Wire PART II On Watership Down 18. Watership Down 19. Fear in the Dark 20. A Honeycomb and a Mouse 21. "For El-ahrairah to Cry" 22. The Story of the Trial of El-ahrairah 23. Kehaar 24. Nuthanger Farm 25. The Raid 26. Fiver Beyond 27. "You Can't Imagine It Unless You've Been There" 28.
Their movement was direct and purposeful, quite unlike the earlier, haphazard approach of those who were now gathered in the ditch. The largest of the three newcomers was in front and the other two followed him, as though under orders. Hazel, sensing at once that they had nothing in common with himself and his companions, started and sat up tensely. Fiver muttered in his ear, "Oh, Hazel, they've come to--" but broke off short. Bigwig turned toward them and stared, his nose working rapidly. The three came straight up to him.
Without the slightest hesitation, he took two hops to the water, waded in and swam across the deep, still pool. They watched him pull himself out beside a flowering clump of figwort, gripping one of the tough stems in his teeth, shake a shower of drops out of his fur and scutter into the alder bushes. A moment later, between the nut trees, they saw him running off into the field. "I'm glad he's with us," said Hazel to Silver. Again he thought wryly of the Threarah. "He's the fellow to find out all we need to know.