by Don Perrin
“Squadron commanders, have your troops ready to march in two days. Officers’ conference will be at 0700 hours. Slith, dismiss the regiment.”
Slith jumped to attention, called the regiment to attention, saluted Kang, and sang out, “Regiment dismissed!”
The draconians did not leave the parade ground, but immediately clumped together, wings flapping, teeth snapping, voices hissing. Someone rolled out the keg of dwarf spirits. They cheered Kang, as he passed, and called out an invitation to join them. He shook his head and headed for his own quarters. He was suddenly very tired.
Events had taken a most unexpected turn. He didn’t quite know what to think of it all.
Kang dropped his field gear on the floor, letting it lay where it fell. He flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
“Have I done the right thing?” he asked himself again. “Is this what my soldiers want? I am their commander and must look out for them. I must think on their behalf. Still, for the past twenty-five years, we have not been soldiers. We have been settlers in an unforgiving and barren land. And we’ve survived. Not only that, but we’ve made this land our home—”
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Slith here, sir.”
“Come in.”
Slith entered, saluted, and closed the door. He had been thoughtful enough to bring along a jug. “I thought congratulations were in order. You must have impressed the hell out of that commander. What does he call himself? A lord knight? What is he, some renegade Solamnic cast-off? Are you sure we want to be part of this, sir?”
Kang stood up, clomped over to the table. “Pour yourself a drink, and me one too while you’re at it.” He took a long pull on the spirits, paused a moment to wait for the explosion in his brain to fade away and the fire to die out in his stomach. That done, he continued.
“We’re soldiers, Slith, you and me. We know how to fight, and we know how to lead warriors. You said it yourself. The yearning. The yearning to fight, and fight for the Queen. It’s why we’re here.”
Slith sat down, leaned back in the chair. His tail curled around to his side, covered his feet. “I know. Still, you remember what happened last time. I doubt our Queen had much to do with that last war. But then, I don’t know. She never spoke to me.”
Kang stared into the dark, potent spirits. “She’s spoken to me,” he said quietly. Every time he asked for his magic, he heard her voice. Suddenly, he slammed his fist on the table. “This time we won’t fail! I’m convinced of it, Slith. You should see this army! Disciplined, well-trained, devoted to her Cause and to each other. Honor. Slith, they spoke of honor! Can you believe it? This army had a whole different feel to it. They’re out to win, not just kill for the sake of killing, like the last time.”
“Speaking of killing, sir. We’re all still alive here, after twenty-five years, and that counts for something.”
“Alive, yes, but we’re not living. In fact, if you come to think about it, we’re all just waiting to die. We have a chance now to at least make our deaths mean something.”
“You’re in a cheery mood tonight, sir. Take another drink.” Slith obeyed his own command.
Kang laughed, though he only sipped at his spirits. He couldn’t let himself get drunk. Not tonight. He had work to do. He pushed the jug to the end of the table, out of reach.
“Now tell me, old friend, where did you sneak off to during the raid? The corporal you sent back said something about you chasing after some dwarven thieves?”
“I saw a group of four dwarves sneak out of Celebundin the night of the raid. They were using the confusion of the raid to cover their movements. You might say that we aided in their getaway.”
Kang tried to appear interested, but it was hard work. A week ago, he would have found this fascinating information. Now, the dwarves mattered little to him.
Slith continued. “I followed them for two days. They headed north through the mountain pass. They crossed two more mountains, then went over the Helefundis Ridge. I had to stop at that point for fear that they’d see me. But I found out where they were headed.”
“Where?” Kang asked, because it was expected of him, not because he cared.
“Thorbardin.”
Kang was suddenly very interested. He was certain that Thorbardin was the objective of the knights.
“Thorbardin? Hill dwarves? They wouldn’t find a very big welcome there.”
“They weren’t looking for a welcome. From what I overheard and what I managed to piece together, these four are light-fingered as kender. They weren’t going to Thorbardin for a family reunion. Unless I miss my guess, they were going to relieve their rich cousins of some of their jewels and steel. I think the dwarves have played us for suckers. Here we’ve been raiding their distilleries when we should have been raiding their treasure room!”
Kang shrugged. “Damn. I wish we’d known about this earlier. But it won’t make any difference now. We’re off to war, and we’ll be leaving the dwarves behind. Still, it’s good to know that there’s a back way into Thorbardin. The lord knight might be very interested in that piece of intelligence.”
“Here’s to glory, sir.”
“To glory, Slith!”
The two draconians raised their flagons and drank.
“Two days, Slith. Have the men ready.”
Slith finished his drink in one last gulp. “Two days. Hard to believe we’re leaving this place after so many years. Yes, sir. The regiment will be ready. Two days.”
* * * * *
The two days went by in a blur of activity. Kang gave orders, supervised the loading of the wagons, made certain the provisions were readied. He had to deal with innumerable crises, some minor, one major. The major crisis occurred when the three disabled draconians—hearing that their fellows were marching off to war and assuming that they would be left behind to starve—tried to kill themselves by mixing the ground-up petals of the death lily with their nut-ale. They were discovered in time to prevent the deed.
Kang spoke to them, showed them their names on the roster, and promised that not only would they march with the draconian regiment, but that they would have their share of duties to perform. He put them in charge of inventorying the supplies and the weapons, determining what they should take and what they should leave behind. This freed up three able-bodied draconians for other duties, so that what Kang had done proved worthwhile. Still, it was just one more distraction.
“Perhaps it’s just as well I don’t have time to think about this too much,” he was reflecting over a delayed dinner, when a knock sounded on his door.
It was at least the one hundredth knock in the space of an hour. Kang sighed. “Yes, what is it? I’m eating! Or trying to.”
“Excuse me, sir, but we’ve got a report from one of the scouts. I think you should it hear it, sir.”
“Of course I should hear it,” Kang grumbled. He shoved aside his plate. “Send him in.”
The scout, a Baaz, shuffled inside, bobbing his head and darting quick glances about. He’d never been in his commander’s quarters before.
“What is it? And be quick,” Kang growled.
The Baaz ducked his head again. “Yes, sir. Some dwarves have been watching us, sir. We spotted ’em yesterday. They’re up a tree in that copse about a mile away. We didn’t report it, because they weren’t doing anything except just sitting in the tree. But they were back today, and our lieutenant wants to know what to do. Do we haul ’em down, sir? Or let ’em be?”
“Let them be,” said Kang with a smile. “They’re only trying to figure out what we’re up to. Probably quaking in their boots, afraid we’re getting ready to launch a major assault on them.”
“Aren’t we, sir? I mean, wouldn’t it be a good idea. Suppose they tell someone we’re leaving.”
Kang had considered just such a course of action. A dwarven village burned and a wagon load of dwarven heads would be a fine present for their new commander. And it would insure the dwar
ves’ silence.
But Kang had already rejected the idea, if for no other reason than the mug of dwarf spirits next to his plate. He owed the dwarves a debt; they had provided food, drink, and an odd sort of companionship over the years. If the Knights of Takhisis could talk of honor and speak with respect of their enemies, then, by the Dark Lady, so could Kang.
“Who are they going to tell?” Kang shook his head. “The nearest Solamnic Knight’s probably a hundred miles away, and the dwarves don’t have much use for them anyhow. And by the time the dwarves realize we’re gone for good, they won’t care where we went.”
He laughed. “We grab the glory, they grab this town. Good for them. They’ll at least get most of their belongings back!”
The draconians marched on the second day, just as Slith had promised. They were six hours behind schedule, but they were ready to go. The regiment assembled in the village square for the last time.
Kang stood in front of them. “Life has been good, these past years,” he said simply. “But it’s going to be better. Today, once again, we march for the glory of the Queen!”
With that, he turned, strode to the front of the column, and led the way out of the gate, out of the wall, which his men had built, the one thing they had built that might actually outlast them.
The only thing.
He did not look back.
Chapter Seventeen
The draconian squadrons marched as single units. All were in full fighting gear, all their provisions and engineering tools and equipment were loaded onto the wagons. Each draconian wore a small pack on his back, containing any personal objects that he had acquired over the years of living on the side of Mount Dashinak. That wasn’t a lot. Most of what they owned, they left for the dwarves.
More out of curiosity than because he feared any trouble from the dwarves, Kang had left Slith behind with a scouting party to see what the dwarves were up to. The party caught up with the main body late that night.
“Well, what happened?” Kang asked.
“As soon as we marched out,” Slith reported, “one of the dwarves in the tree shinnied down and ran like his pants were on fire back to the village to report. Horns blew and bells rang. The whole damn village turned out to drive off the assault.”
Slith grinned. “They waited and waited, the sun beating down on them, and, of course, we never showed up. That war chief of theirs finally gathered together a group and they marched over to the village.
“They met up with the three dwarves still sitting in the tree, who reported that we were nowhere in sight. The war chief took a squad with him and marched up to the gates, which were standing wide open. You should have seen those dwarves, clutching their battle-axes, ready for us to leap out and massacre them! When the war chief finally got up nerve enough to walk inside the gate, the wind blew it and those hinges creaked, made a squealing sound. The old dwarf jumped so high it was a wonder he didn’t bump his head on Lunitari!”
Kang laughed appreciatively. “What’d they do then?”
“Marched off,” Slith said. “Went back to their village. We watched, but they didn’t send out any runners or messengers.”
“Good. Excellent. Well done, Slith.”
The Sivak nodded and returned to take his place in line.
Kang’s spirits, which had been extremely low when he left the village, soared, now that he was on the road. He was marching at the head of a regiment of well-trained soldiers, some of the best in the business, off to join a mighty army of conquest. He’d made the right decision. He was sure of it.
They crossed the mountain pass over Mount Dashinak, traversed the Forthin Ridge, and camped in the valley beyond.
Slith was also in a good mood. The draconians hadn’t made a forced march like this in years. They were out of shape and out of practice, tripping over their own tails, complaining about the heat and sore feet. More than a few keeled over from a combination of unaccustomed exercise and an overabundance of dwarf spirits.
Slith ranged up and down the line, his baton tickling stragglers, keeping them moving, and answering all complaints with a whack to the head. Those who fell were tossed into the wagons. No one envied them the ride. Slith prowled around the wagons, gleefully waiting for them to come to their senses.
The journey was difficult, especially with the wagons, which had to be pushed and pulled and hauled over the rocky terrain. And then the trail ended at the edge of a cliff. The only way to reach their destination was straight down.
The drop was easy enough for the winged draconians, but both wagons had to be lowered down the side of the mountain on ropes. This task took up an entire afternoon, and everyone was worn out by the end of it.
Kang allowed them only a brief rest, however. Wrestling with the wagons had put them behind schedule and he did not want to start off on the wrong foot with Lord Knight Sykes by showing up late.
The second day, the draconians reached the mountain pass where they were to meet up with Lord Knight Sykes and his army. They were right on time.
No army in sight.
Kang and Slith led the column over the last rise and were the first to notice that they were alone up here.
“Where the hell is everyone?” Slith demanded. “I knew it—”
“Hush,” Kang warned. “Keep moving. We’re not as alone as we thought we were.”
He pointed forward. A single knight, clad in black armor, stood up from a rock, and motioned for the draconians to approach. As the knight removed her helm, red hair flowed behind her, her own personal banner.
Kang recognized her, Talon Leader Huzzud.
“Greetings, Commander,” she called.
Kang saluted. “Where is your army, Talon Leader? I was told to meet Lord Knight Sykes here on this day.”
“We came upon a patrol of mountain dwarves the day you left. We believe that we killed all of them, but, on the off-chance that one might have escaped to spread the warning, the lord knight determined that he had to move fast, hoping to invade Thorbardin before the dwarves could close the gates leading into the mountain. He force-marched the army through here a day and a half ago. I’m to lead you to the encampment.”
Kang had once seen the formidable gates of Thorbardin, gates that could be closed flush with the mountain wall. Attacking those gates would be tantamount to attacking the mountain itself and probably just as successful. No wonder the lord knight had been in such haste.
The draconians had taken the opportunity of the halt to snatch a bit of rest. They were lying in what shade they could find, drinking sparingly from their water skins. Kang gave the signal to Slith, who ordered every man back on his feet. Aware of the eyes of the dark knight upon them, the draconians made haste to form into their lines, stood rigidly at attention.
The regiment marched for the remainder of the day without pause, without complaint. Huzzud glanced back occasionally at the line. It was an impressive sight, the sun gleaming on scale and metal, the air stirred by the cooling breeze of the draconians’ wings. Only when the sun was setting behind the mountain did Kang call a halt for a brief rest.
“We could camp here tonight,” Huzzud suggested. Her red hair was wet from perspiration, her fair skin reddened by the blazing sun. She wiped her forehead with the back of her leather-gloved hand. “The lord knight isn’t expecting us before tomorrow. We have the mountain to cross, and it’s difficult journeying in daylight.”
Kang scratched his jaw. “How much farther?” he asked Huzzud.
She glanced at the mountains, at the sky, and said, “Ten miles.”
Kang looked back down the line. His troops were tired, but not exhausted. They’d have a chance to rest tonight, be fighting fit for battle tomorrow.
“We’ll carry on then, provided that’s all right with you.”
“Of course.” Huzzud appeared pleased with his response.
A thought occurred to Kang. “Can you lead us through the pass in the dark?” he asked, concerned. “You humans cannot see well i
n darkness, or so I am told. No offense,” he added hastily.
Huzzud smiled. “None taken. What you say is true. And,” she admitted, “I’ve only flown over the pass by dragon, I’ve never walked it. But I know the way. I am trained to know the way.”
Kang bowed. He had complete confidence in her. “My compliments to the trainer.”
Huzzud tied back her long red hair, regarded Kang with earnest intent. “I had never met any draconians before you, Commander. I didn’t expect you to be so … well … civilized, if you take my meaning. I thought you’d be more like goblins. Crude and not very bright. No offense,” she added slyly.
Kang laughed. “None taken. Underestimating us is a mistake many humans make, mostly to their detriment.”
He grew pensive. A day’s marching side-by-side with someone makes them close as kin. He felt at ease with her. Perhaps that was the reason he shared thoughts with her he’d never shared with anyone else.
“We are bred of dragons, Talon Leader. Perhaps the most intelligent, the wisest beings alive on Krynh. The capacity to attain such wisdom, such knowledge is within us. If we only had time! Time to live in this world, to learn its ways, to come to know its peoples. And if we could only pass on what we learn to—”
He stopped, embarrassed. What he was saying was foolish and he knew it. He expected the talon leader to regard him with scorn, or—worse—laugh at him.
To his astonishment, she was gazing at him with serious attention. “Don’t mind me,” Kang added, waving a clawed hand. “I’ve been in the sun too long. Heat and dwarf spirits always make me say crazy things.”
“It’s not crazy,” she protested. “What you are talking about is interesting. I never looked at it quite that way.”
“No, it isn’t, though you’re kind to say so.” Kang changed the subject abruptly. “My men are rested now. If you’re ready, we should be moving out.”
She agreed and, after drinking a few sips of water, they marched on. Neither she nor Kang spoke again during the long march, except to consult now and again on direction. But she looked at him a good deal, and her expression was thoughtful. He had definitely risen in her estimation.