A Portion of Dragon and Chips

by Simon Haynes

  "Oh, that is a foul act!" cried Millie, scrambling to her feet and turning away in disgust.

  Clunk sat on his haunches and waited. The fighter looked up at him in fear, clearly wondering what this juice-spewing metal-clad monster was going to do next. Then the man's expression changed as his nerves began to tingle, and moments later he sat up unaided.

  "Hurm feel again," said the fighter.

  "Clunk happy," said Clunk, in the manner of the barbarian hoards.

  "Still grossed out," called Millie, who was standing with her back turned. Even so, she cast a sidelong glance at the big barbarian, for he was seriously fit. His loincloth didn't leave much to the imagination either, for the antidote had yet to reach all of the barbarian's extremities.

  Hurm saw her looking at him, and blushed. However, his embarrassment was short-lived, because Clunk stood up and helped him to his feet. "We travel to the Bark kingdom," said the robot. "Does your destination coincide? If so, we could travel in company as protection against our common enemies."

  Hurm's brow wrinkled. "Hurm go to rocky wastes of the west. Catch dragon for queen."

  "Close enough," said Millie. "Welcome to the party, Hurm."

  Clunk turned to her. "How is that close? We travel north."

  "What would you know?" said Millie. "Last night we travelled south to reach the north."

  "I know north and west are ninety degrees apart. I know the kingdom of the Barks has neither rocky wastes nor dragons."

  "I want him to come with us," said Millie stubbornly. "The nights are cold and long, and he is warm and bears an impressive weapon."

  "Millie, he is a simple fellow," said Clunk gently. "We can't take advantage of him."

  Millie intended to do exactly that, and as frequently as possible. "What about splitting the difference?" she said hopefully. "We could head north-west for now, until our paths diverge."

  "The idea has some merit," said Clunk slowly.

  "Oh, go on! You know it makes sense."

  "Very well. We will strike out to the north-west until we are forced our separate ways."

  "Yes!" said Millie, with a pump of her fist.

  Clunk indicated the path. "But for now, this route clearly leads to the west, so we have no choice but to follow it."

  They set off together, Hurm and Millie walking ahead while Clunk followed them.

  "Do you know any heroic songs?" Millie asked Hurm.

  "Song?"

  "You know. Heroes and wizards and halflings."

  Hurm looked at her in surprise. "You have seen Runt? You have met Father M?"

  "I don't know who they are. Are they famous? Do you know a song about them?"

  "A song." Hurm walked in silence, then cleared his throat and began.

  Runt is small and Father M is tall,

  Father M is smart and Runt is not.

  Runt is a halfling, angry and mean,

  Father M is a wizard, rangy and lean.

  Runt is a coward and tends to be vicious,

  Father M is a wizard of talent capricious.

  Hurm shut his mouth, either because the song was finished, or because singing any more polysyllabic words would have taxed his brain beyond safe limits.

  "That is a heroic song indeed," said Millie. "Was it penned by the ancient bards?"

  "Father M taught song."

  "Who is this Father M? Is he your real father, Hurm?"

  The fighter looked sad. "Real father hit Hurm."

  "Oh, I'm so sorry. Were you beaten as a child?"

  "Hurm kill father and scatter limbs across village."

  "I guess you got your revenge as soon as you were old enough, huh?"

  "Yes." The fighter hesitated. "Hurm outcast at five years old. Hurm … juvenile delinquent."

  They walked in silence, and then Millie saw a curious figure sitting on a tree stump ahead of them. It was an elderly man wearing a set of priest robes, and he was supporting himself with the aid of a wooden staff. As they approached, the man scowled at them. "You took your time," he said, addressing Hurm. "I'm practically one with this wooden stump."

  "Father M!" exclaimed Hurm, and he hurried forward to greet his travelling companion, leaving Millie and Clunk behind.

  "Yes, yes, happy to see you too."

  There was a round of introductions. Afterwards, Father M cast a shrewd look at Millie, then eyed Clunk with interest. "A metal man. I have heard tales, but I have never laid eyes on one. Do you speak?"

  "Indeed," said Clunk.

  "Are you perchance impervious to fire?"

  "He is!" said Millie. "Why, when we escaped the city—"

  "Excellent, excellent." Father M clapped Hurm on the shoulder. "A good find, my friend. This metal man will be of great use on our quest."

  "I have my own quest," said Clunk.

  "Not any more." Father M gave him a curious smile, then held two fingers aloft in a pincer gesture. As he closed the fingers … absolutely nothing happened.

  "Your gestures will not work on me," said Clunk evenly. "I do not possess a larynx."

  Unmoved, Father M gestured at Millie instead, and she fell to her knees clutching her throat, struggling for breath. "So, what say you to joining my quest?"

  "Release her at once," thundered Clunk. "Release her, or I destroy you where you sit!"

  "Will you aid us, yes or no?"

  Clunk didn't reply. Quick as lightning, he bent down to pick up a stone, and in one smooth movement he launched it at Father M with a flick of his wrist. The stone hummed through the air, travelling so fast it was a blur.

  Father M was even quicker. Releasing the staff, he gestured with his left hand, freezing the deadly missile inches from his head. He was still holding Millie captive with his right, but was forced to release her when Clunk launched a second stone. Now there were two in the air, and beads of sweat stood out on Father M's forehead as he used all of his primal force to hold off the attacks.

  Then Clunk threw a third stone.

  "Oh, fudd," muttered Father M, and the new stone zipped past the first two and glanced off his skull, knocking him from the stump. The first and second stones were no longer held captive, and they clattered into the trees behind the wizard. Then there was a thud as Father M landed in the dirt.

  "You kill Father M?" said Hurm, reaching for his sword.

  Clunk scooped up another stone.

  Before they could attack each other, Millie sprang to her feet, getting between the pair of them. "He's not dead, Hurm. Clunk knocked him out to stop him hurting me, that's all."

  Hurm glanced at the wizard, who was sitting up, rubbing a large bump on the side of his head. He looked dazed, but was clearly alive. Slowly, the fighter relaxed his grip on the hilt of his sword, and Clunk let the stone fall from his fingers.

  "Right," said Millie. "That's enough of your piffing contests. Let's sit down and talk this out properly."

  Hurm propped Father M against the tree stump, then stood by with his arms crossed. "Speak."

  "Clunk and I are heading to the Bark lands, where—"

  "Bark lands!" said Father M, recovering swiftly. "You're taking a metal man into the wooden kingdom? Are you insane? They'll tear him apart, throw him into the ocean and burn you as a heretic." His eyes narrowed. "But I deduce from your accent that you know this already. The question is, does the metal man know?"

  "What is the issue with the Bark kingdom?" said Clunk.

  Father M laughed long and hard. "Oh Millie, you wily witch," he said at last, before grinning at Clunk. "My good fellow, the Kingdom of the Barks is known as the wooden kingdom, for all metal is banned on pain of death. And yet this fine young lady was taking you there, to your certain doom."

  "Clunk can look after himself," said Millie angrily.

  "Against a whole army? Don't make me laugh … again."

  "The Bark army carries wooden swords. They throw stones. They are harmless."

  Father M rubbed his bruise. "By weight of numbers alone, they will overcome your clo
ckwork friend. And to what purpose do you lead him into such a trap?"

  Millie pressed her lips together.

  "Well, it is no business of mine. Once we've secured a dragon for the queen, you can lead this sorry metal fellow to his doom in the Bark kingdom if that is your desire."

  "Capture a dragon? And you accuse me of doomed quests."

  "We're only taking a little one, and with the help of your fireproof friend, our quest just became a whole lot easier."

  "But why would we help? You cannot force us."

  "If you assist, Hurm and I will escort you to the Bark kingdom afterwards. With my magic and his sword, you are sure to reach their borders unharmed." Father M shrugged. "Of course, once you step over the border they'll kill you on the spot, but that's your problem."

  Millie turned to the robot. "What say you, Clunk? Should we travel to the rocky wastes and help these people secure a baby dragon?"

  Clunk nodded. He needed a dragon for his own ends, and snatching two would be no harder than getting their hands on a single dragonling. The kingdom of the Barks could wait … for now. Slowly, he put his hand out, and he and Father M shook hands. Then Millie shook hands with Father M, and Hurm shook hands with Clunk, and Hurm shook hands with Millie. Getting carried away, Hurm then shook hands with himself.

  "The pact is sealed," said Father M grandly. "Let us be on our way, for the city of Last Hope awaits."

  — ♦ —

  Tiera and Thonn made good time in the hours before dawn. They'd headed west after leaving the city, crossing the river and then following it as it broadened out, meandering through fields on its way to the coast. Although the city was built on towering cliffs, the land to the west sloped gently towards the ocean, and they'd been descending steadily all morning. Tiera was grateful for the half a loaf of bread Thonn had snatched from a table during their hasty flight. They chewed crusts as they walked, making the bread last in case it was the last food they'd see all day.

  Now and then Tiera called a halt, and they crept off the rough path they were following to listen for sounds of pursuit. So far there was none, unless the pursuers were quieter and more cunning than Tiera was. She was impressed with Thonn, too, his country upbringing lending him a sturdiness which belied his skinny frame. He didn't complain, either, which Tiera appreciated.

  "Where is your village?" she asked Thonn, as they strode along in the mid-morning sunshine. She was more relaxed now the trees had thinned out, since they could see a hundred yards across flat ground in every direction. Unless they were pursued by troops on horseback, or were approaching a line of veteran archers, they were relatively safe.

  "Far to the east," said Thonn.

  "In Elven lands?" Tiera asked him, surprised. The elves were notoriously protective of their demesne, and their bows had a far greater range than those of human design. They liked to set traps, too, and entering their heavily forested land was all but suicidal. The idea of a human settlement was, quite frankly, unbelievable.

  Thonn shook his head. "The elders in my village are not deep thinkers, but they are smarter than that. The village is at the foot of a hill, with a mountain range between us and Elven lands. We do not trouble them, and they have never troubled us."

  Tiera walked in silence. She'd been thinking of making for Bark territory, which meant turning north, but a village to the east would do just as well. "Any chance we can seek refuge with your people?"

  "Impossible. The elders had me arrested for witchcraft." Thonn glanced at her. "They're superstitious, and the rules of the village are strict. If I go back, they'll kill me."

  Tiera pulled a face. She remembered the perlstone necklace the healer had agreed to sell her, and she wished she'd had time to pick it up. The stone pendant had magnified Thonn's powers, and those powers would have been very useful on the long road ahead. All they had between them was her dagger, and that wouldn't fend off a wild dog, let alone the sort of desperate men they might meet on the way. They needed proper weapons, decent rations and travelling clothes. She still had the Lord Chancellor's gold coins tucked in her boot, but they were useless. She'd need a mule with panniers to carry the change from a single guinea.

  They reached the woods, where their footfalls were muffled by a thick carpet of fallen pine needles. They walked in silence, with only the rustle of leaves and the creak of branches overhead disturbing the peace. Nearby she could hear an occasional splash from the river, as a fish or a waterbird disturbed the surface.

  Then a twig snapped just ahead of them. Instantly, Tiera raised her hand, and they both stopped and listened. Nothing.

  Heart pounding, Tiera looked over her shoulder. It was about a hundred yards to the edge of the woods, but if there were people ahead of them, there may be more behind. The river was nearby, but they'd be easy targets for a bowman if they tried to ford it.

  She felt trapped, hemmed in, but there was nothing she could do about it. Instead, she kept walking, trying to work out where the attackers were. One on the left behind the tree. Probably another on the right, crouched behind the bushes. More behind them, to cut off their retreat.

  Tiera slipped a hand into her sleeve and gripped the smooth handle of her stiletto. Then, before she could warn Thonn, two men stepped into their path. They wore ragged uniforms with battered remnants of Mollister armour, which meant they were either deserters, or they'd looted the gear from the corpses of their victims. "Well, what have we here?" said one of the men, a blonde with a dirty beard. There was a scar down the left side of his face, and his blue eyes were hard and shrewd.

  "A pair of lovebirds out for a walk," sneered the second man. He had dark hair, cut short, and he was looking at Tiera with an expression she knew only too well. With a sinking feeling, she realised there was going to be trouble.

  "We don't have m-much," said Tiera, lowering her gaze and putting on a nervous, stammering tone. "W-we've just run away together. If our parents find out—"

  "Don't worry, love. Nobody's going to find out." There was a rasp as the dark-haired man drew his sword. "In fact, nobody's going to find you at all."

  Chapter 23

  Thonn didn't hesitate. He threw himself at the dark-haired man, grabbing him with both arms. "Run, Tiera. Run! I will hold them so you may escape!"

  The man shook him off easily, spun him around and held him with one arm, his sword to Thonn's throat. "Come here," he said to Tiera.

  She stood her ground.

  "Come here, or I'll cut his throat."

  "If I come over, you'll cut my throat too." Tiera eyed the men. "You don't look very fit. I reckon I could outrun the pair of you. And then I'll give your descriptions to my good friend Captain Spadell." She smiled as the name registered with the men. "I see you know the good captain. Well, he's the one who released me from prison. He's the one who gave me the mission we're trying to accomplish. And he's the one who's going to hunt you down and hang you both if you don't let my companion go."

  The men looked at each other, a little uncertain. Then the blonde shrugged and drew a throwing knife. "Try running. I'll put this right between your shoulder blades."

  Tiera readied her stiletto. It wasn't designed for throwing, but it was her only chance. Slowly, she started to ease the knife from its scabbard, and then she spotted something through the trees, something which had her staring in surprise. She looked so surprised both men turned to see what she was looking at.

  There, in the middle of the river, was a small wooden boat. Standing on the boat was a mule, a large metal cage tied to its back, and leaning over the side was a child, paddling furiously as he tried to reach their side of the river. No, not a child, it was a halfling.

  They all watched his efforts in silence, and then the mule brayed at them. The halfling looked up from his furious paddling and saw the audience waiting for him on the bank. He took one look at the armed men and darted to the other side of the boat, paddling it twice as hard in the opposite direction.

  "Thanks for the help," murmured T
iera, as the boat slowly moved away.

  "We could use a mule," said one of the armed men.

  "Reckon we can swim out and get him?" said the other, who was still hanging onto Thonn.

  Neither of them were paying any attention to Tiera, which was a pity because she was certainly paying attention to them. She darted across the thick carpet of pine needles like a shadow, drawing the stiletto and plunging it into the blonde's back before he was even aware she was there. The second man heard his mate cry out, then let out a cry of his own as Tiera's blade slammed home.

  There was a moment of silence, and then both men toppled forwards and splashed face down into the river. They started drifting away, the water around them tainted with their blood, and then Tiera shouted across the river to the halfling. "Hey, you!"

  The halfling bent his head and paddled even harder.

  "They're dead!" shouted Tiera. "Can you help me get their swords?"

  The frantic paddling stopped, and the halfling looked at her. "How do I know you won't kill me too?"

  "I am Tiera of the Grey Mountain people. You have my word."

  The mule brayed.

  "Come on," said Tiera. "Your animal is hungry, and the grass is lush on this side."

  "Do I get a reward for helping?"

  "You can have their coin."

  "Good enough," said the halfling, with a nod. The river was carrying him towards her bank anyway, and he was tired of paddling away and getting nowhere. So, he switched sides again and started paddling towards her, more slowly this time. On the way, his boat passed the corpses of the two robbers, and he leant over the side to relieve them of their weapons and coin purses.

  Tiera realised Thonn was still staring at her. In all the excitement she'd forgotten about him, and now she realised the sudden deaths might have shocked him beyond measure. "Thonn …"