Page 14 of Flameborne: Fury
“And the difference between air-combat, and ground?”
“The Flyers are, uh, used primarily against other dragons—combat in flight—or where there’s enemy troops spread over a wide area. Their riders are trained in weapons—mostly archery for flight against other dragons, and flashjars to drop on strategic targets on the ground.”
“Good,” Ronen said, obviously relieved. “And their pins?”
Every Furyknight’s pin was a bronze setting shaped like a stylized dragon’s head with wings rising above it, and flames between them. But each Wing had the enamel sections colored differently. “The Flyers have the black face and flame, with red wings.”
“Great. Now, what about the Flame Wing?” He didn’t even give me a moment to breathe.
“The Flame Wing are battle dragons through and through. The offensive. They’re the front line, whether it’s in-air or on the ground. A lot of reds and grays, but there’s a lot of golds too, because their ability to mindlink over greater distances is used to keep everyone else positioned. Greenscale riders who are also healers are in Flame if their skills are more focused on injury than disease, and the blues help them move quickly because have the stamina to fly and fight on the same day.”
“And the Flame pin?”
“Black head and wings, with the red flames rising between them.”
“Excellent. And our third wing?”
My brothers leaned in. Ronen had told them if I answered this quiz correctly first time, he’d buy them a round of ale next time we went to the tavern.
I wet my lips nervously. “The Fang Wing are fighters too, but use more stealth. They’re sent in first, secretly, to set up ambush, or to locate enemy ranks. Otherwise, they reconnoiter and fly nights for surprise attacks. The gold in the Fang Wing gather and deliver intelligence or help us know when and where to move troops. Grays are used for stealth in flight, or on the ground. And…”
Shit. There was something else. Something important I couldn’t remember. One of the main differences between the Flame and Fang.
Ronen’s brows rose. “And?”
I stared at my Wing Leader and the others stared at me. I was starting to sweat.
“Comeon,Bren,” Voski muttered from behind me. Ronen shot him a glare.
I tried desperately to remember. We’d been here in this room the first time they outlined it all for me, and I’d talked to Gil about it once, because he was Fang.
Shit.“I don’t remember.”
My brothers groaned. Someone slapped the table in front of them and I flinched, my cheeks heating.
Ronen sighed, but he seemed resigned rather than angry. “You need to spend more time learning with your brothers, Bren. You need to get this right. We usually have an idea of what Wing you’re destined for after the second Trial. If you can’t even separate them—”
“I will! I can! I just forgot that one detail!”
Ronen’s lips thinned. “Who wants to remind our sister—?”
“It’s the fuckingstealthwing, Bren,” Voski muttered behind me. “They have a huge contingent of trackers and scouts who are strong enough to fight, but are sent in to locate the enemy, or find the best ways to approach in difficult terrain, or overcome other obstacles.”
I hunched. “Isaidthey locate the enemy,” I mumbled.
Ronen gave me a flat look. “Voski’s right—the biggest portion of Fang Pairs are trackers and scouts. They’re used for every aspect of planning battle, and very skilled in flanking and ambush. You should have started with that, Bren.”
I nodded. “Sorry.”
Ronen shrugged. “Remember for next time. I’ll get serious questions from the other leaders if we have to explain your wing to you when we pin you.” He winked which helped me feel a little better, but I could feel the sullen glares of my brothers. Now they would have to buy their own drinks the next time we went out.
Damn.
“Moving on,” Ronen said, leaning back against the desk at the front and folding his arms. “Time to tighten on conduct, brothers. There’s another caution from the Captains because they’ve had more than one report of Furyknights fighting in the city.”
I went very still, reminded of that night with Saul’s squad in the tavern, early on, before I’d understood how this squad thing worked—would this remind my brothers of the discipline they’d received because of me?
Of course, thoughts of that turned my head right back to Donavyn—which only reminded me of the recent night whenhe’dkissedme.Those memories still made me hot with need—andmortifiedwith embarrassment. I couldn’t think about his lips on mine and his hands on my body, without remembering how he’d run from me—for the second time. Months ago, when he put my squad under discipline, it was the day after I got drunk and tried to kisshimand he fled me then, too—
