"What will we do with the body?" Kang asked.
"Roast beef for breakfast?"
Kang considered, rubbing his scaled chin. "No," he decided at last. "I, for one, couldn't stomach him. We'd probably all end up with the heaves and the trots. And Rajak's bound to wonder what happened to his pet cow,"
"We could say he deserted."
Kang glanced balefully at the minotaur, who was now describing the best way to slay elves in hand-to-hand combat. "Him? Desert?"
Slith listened a moment. "Yeah," he said gloomily, "I see your point, sir. What do we do then?"
" 'Heart of the battle' ..." Kang mused. Then he smiled, snapped his teeth together.
Slith gazed at him with hope, mingled with wary suspicion. "I know that look, Kang. I know it well. Either you're going to save us, or you're going to get us killed faster than Tchk'pal can!"
"Slith, at the conclusion of this inspiring speech, I want you to take personal command of Second Troop. Go down to the Engineer Stores, and find the plans for building a catapult. Then get to work. I want one catapult built by tonight."
"A catapult? But, sir, we already have the ballistae..."
"Damn it, I know what we have! Do as I tell you. One catapult." "Yes, sir." Slith was dubious.
Tchk'pal finished his speech with a howl that was apparently some sort of scale-raising minotaur battle cry, at which-Kang supposed-they were all supposed to clash their weapons together and cheer. The cry had one effect at least-it woke up the troops. The draconians blinked and gaped and stared at him.
Tchk'pal scowled. He wasn't accustomed to this lackluster response.
Kang gave a rousing cheer. The rest of the draconians, urged by their commanders, joined in. Tchk'pal smiled, pleased. He was gracious enough to dismiss the troops. The draconians, looking grim, straggled back to their quarters.
Climbing the battlements, the minotaur joined Kang, who said to Slith, "You have your orders, Sub-commander. Carry on."
Slith saluted, and dashed off to the storage sheds to their rear.
Tchk'pal looked after Slith. "What is this all about, draco? I gave that lizard-boy no orders!"
"We have a celebration planned for tonight, sir. It will honor you as our new commander, and prepare us for the glory of tomorrow's battle!"
Tchk'pal's snout quivered with pleasure.
"A celebration? For me? This be excellent! I not expect this. You lizard-boys don't have the proper spirit for battle. This help. But"-the minotaur raised a hand-"no ale or wine or intoxicating spirits of any sort! All troops must have a clear head for the great battle tomorrow."
Kang bowed. "Of course, sir. We have a very special drink. We call it 'hard cider', sir."
" 'Hard?' Why 'hard'?" The minotaur looked suspicious.
"Because it's hard to come by, sir. It's made from apples."
"Apples, huh?" Tchk'pal licked his lips. "Sounds healthful. Apple a day keeps dark cleric away."
"We certainly hope so, sir," said Kang. "You must be certain to take lots of cider."
*****
But when the morning sun rose, Kang's heart sank. Tchk'pal-who was supposed to be dead drunk by now-was still standing, still pounding his fist into the table, still bawling out minotaur war chants at the top of his lungs.
"Join in!" he would yell and the draconians were forced to mumble through a verse or two.
Kang eyed the minotaur unhappily. He couldn't believe it. After eight hours of quaffing their best hard cider, the damned cow was still on his feet! He and Gloth had gone through four gallons during the course of the long night. And the minotaur accounted for at least three and a half gallons on his own. Kang was worried. The minotaur looked sober as a Solamnic knight and the cider was running low.
Slith appeared in the doorway leading into the bunker. He motioned quietly for Kang to follow him outside.
Tchk'pal, downing yet another mug of cider, was promising to relate yet another stirring story of battle. He did not notice Kang's departure, nor the fact that Gloth had passed out.
A catapult stood just behind the main ramparts. The main arm was made from a timber over eight inches thick. The beams were over a foot thick, and the ropes were massive.
"Well done," Kang said, adding somberly, "I only hope we have a chance to use it."
Slith looked worriedly back into the bunker. "I thought you were going to take care of our esteemed commander. By the Queen, he sounds like he's ready to lead the charge any minute!"
"I know," Kang said, frowning anxiously. "I have a plan, but he's got to be drunk as a dwarf. And he's slurping up that stuff like it was mother's milk! I'd be out cold for a year if I drank half of what he's downed."
The silver sound of an elven trumpet split the air.
Kang and Slith looked at each other and groaned.
"Maybe he didn't hear it," Slith said.
A scale-clicking howl sounded from the bunker.
"He heard it," Kang said.
Tchk'pal surged out of the bunker, dragging along Gloth. The minotaur stood blinking in the early morning sun. Trumpets from across the field sounded. A second later, alarm trumpets from all over the dragonarmy sounded out.
Across the field, the massive army of the Golden General was beginning to form.
"Quick, Slith!" Kang hissed through his teeth. "I'll distract him. You clonk him on the head!"
Slith dashed off. Out of the corner of his eye, Kang saw his sub-commander pick up a stout tree branch.
"Uh, sir!" Kang yelled, going up to stand in front of Tchk'pal. "The ... uh ... enemy is approaching."
So the enemy was, approaching from behind. Slith slipped up behind the minotaur. Using his wings for elevation, the draconian rose slightly into the air and, using the full force of his powerful arms, brought the tree branch crashing down on top of the minotaur's horned skull.
Tchk'pal blinked, rocked a moment on his feet, lifted a hand to rub his head. Then-glaring balefully-he turned around to face the astounded and trembling Slith.
"What in Sargas's name do you think you are doing?" The minotaur glowered. "You trying to knock me out?"
"N-n-no, s-s-sir. It's ... it's ..." Slith stammered. "An ... an old draconian custom, sir! Right before a battle!" He whipped around and brought the tree branch down on the head of the unsuspecting Gloth.
The draconian toppled like a felled ox.
" 'Hit by a tree, your sword will swing free,' " Kang added desperately. "It's an old ... draconian saying."
"Really?" Tchk'pal looked interested. "Me enjoy learning new customs."
He started to reach for the tree branch. Kang and Slith winced and braced themselves for the blow, when they were saved by the trumpet. The enemy trumpet.
Tchk'pal's ears pricked. "Ah! Battle at last!" he said, and headed toward the ramparts. He halted momentarily when he saw the catapult. "I didn't order a catapult. Have that thing removed. We won't be needing any of these sissy siege engines today. We'll fight those pointy-ears in hand-to-hand combat!"
"Sir, might I point out that it would be better to soften them up first." Kang made a final attempt. "Use the archers and the ballistae and catapult fire to take out as many as we can before we charge...."
"Bah! You sound like General Nemik. What the matter, lizard? Going yellow on me?" Tchk'pal glared at Kang.
"No, sir," Kang said evenly. "Uh, sir, are you sure you're feeling all right?" He looked hopefully at the minotaur. "You seem a little pale around the snout."
"Never felt better!" Tchk'pal said. "Now, have lizard-boys fall into formation." He placed his hairy, stinking hand on Kang's shoulder. "Glory will be ours today! You know, though, draco, me need more apple juice. Me thirsty."
Kang turned to Slith, who was looking dejected. "Have the regiment form ranks on the battlements, full fighting order. Prepare for hand-to-hand combat."
Slith muttered something in draconian regarding pot roast, saluted and trotted slowly and halfheartedly down the ramparts. He began shouting orders.<
br />
Kang motioned to his other officer. "Gloth, fetch the commander another jug of cider. He has to be in fighting shape and he's thirsty! Move!"
"We're about out," Gloth said in an undertone.
"I've got a jug of dwarf spirits under my cot," said Kang in a low voice. "Add that to it."
Gloth returned with a mug. The minotaur drank it in one long, deep swallow. When he was done, he wiped his eyes.
"Great Sargas! That's good," Tchk'pal said reverently, and hit Kang on the shoulder blades, nearly sending the draconian hurtling over the ramparts.
Catching himself, Kang looked out to where the Golden General's army was beginning to close ranks. Heavy cavalry formed in front, ready for a charge. Kang had never seen so many elves. He didn't know there were that many elves in the whole blasted world.
"Here's what I think of you, elf slime!"
Tchk'pal tossed the empty mug out in front of the rampart, sent it smashing on the rocks below. Along with it went the draconians' chances for survival. Kang shook his head and consigned his soul to the Dark Queen.
A shout sounded from somewhere down the ramparts.
"A dragon! A copper dragon!"
Kang groaned. This was just all they needed!
The dragon soared into view. The sun flashed off the copper scales, shone silver on the tip of the terrible weapon known as the dragonlance. The elven cavalry arrayed in front of the draconians took the dragon's appearance as their signal, and began their charge. The ground rumbled with the noise of their horses' hooves. Elven voices raised in an eerie song that set the draconians' teeth on edge.
Tchk'pal looked over to Kang.
"Today is a glorious day to die, wouldn't you agree, draco?"
"A glorious day for one of us to die, at any rate," Kang muttered.
"What did you say, draco?"
"I said, I can hardly wait to follow you into the fray, sir," Kang amended.
Tchk'pal smiled approvingly. "At my signal, we will leap from the ramparts and meet them head on, horn to horn, claw to claw."
"Yes, sir," said Kang miserably.
"CHARGE!" Tchk'pal yelled, raised his axe, and fell flat on his face.
Kang stared in disbelief, afraid to hope. He kicked at the recumbent minotaur with a clawed foot.
Tchk'pal answered with a snuffling snore.
"Slith! Gloth! To me!" Kang shouted.
He grabbed hold of his commander beneath his hairy armpits. The other two draconians each picked up a leg.
"Now what?" Slith demanded.
"He wanted to be in the heart of the battle." Kang grunted. "He's going to get his wish! Over there."
The other two looked, saw, grinned. Together, straining with the load, they dragged the drunken minotaur down the ramparts. It took some work, but they managed at last to load him into the bowl of the catapult.
"What a great idea!" Slith was admiring. "They'll find the body on the battlefield, far away from us. Everyone will think he died of wounds received in combat. No one will suspect us of a thing! You're a genius, sir!"
Slith took up his position, holding his sword over the retaining rope.
"Wait for my order!" Kang yelled.
He raced back up the ramparts. The elven cavalry was nearly upon them. "To your posts! Prepare for battle!" he shouted.
The draconians scattered. Crossbow shots fired out all across the rampart front. Ballistae crews manned their weapons.
The main enemy advance hit the second regiment, to the right of Kang's position. He waited. Behind the heavy cavalry, long lines of infantry surged forward. As the elves crossed the dried creek bed, Kang ordered the ballistae to fire. Their effect was immediate. Huge gaps appeared in the orderly lines of the advancing troops. Enemy lines began to waver. The draconians reloaded for a second shot.
But the damage done by the large weapons had caught the attention of the dragonrider. The copper dragon arced overhead and began its descent, diving down to cripple the defenders. The heavy cavalry shifted their attack to Kang's front, and charged.
Kang turned his back on it all. He looked down at Slith.
The Sivak stood ready, sword in hand.
At that moment, Tchk'pal woke up. He stared around, saw himself in the bowl of the catapult. The sight had a sobering effect.
"Sargas take you dracos!" he bellowed, struggling to free himself! "Get me out of this! I'll flail you alive for-"
"FIRE!" Kang shouted.
Slith sliced the retaining rope. The main arm of the catapult straightened, sent the minotaur soaring into the air.
"Charge," said Kang, watching the minotaur fly gracefully over the treetops.
"Abyss take me!" Slith cried, racing up on the ramparts to watch. "Will you look at that, sir!"
The copper dragon had unleashed a stream of acid at a ballista site on the rampart. The weapon exploded, its crew scrambling to get out of the way of the attack. The copper dragon was preparing to pick them off, one by one, when the minotaur, hurtling through the air, struck the dragon squarely in the chest.
"Dark Queen's grace," Kang said, awed. "Sank his horns right into it!" He turned to his sub-commander. "Nice shot, Slith!"
"Thank you, sir," Slith replied.
The dragon and its elven rider and the minotaur fell like so many sacks of potatoes. They hit the ground hard, sending up a great cloud of dust.
"A glorious death," said Kang solemnly.
"And honorable," Slith added. He raised his voice. "The commander's dead! A moment's silence for the dead commander."
After about a few seconds, Kang said, "I don't think they heard you."
Slith shrugged.
Kang turned to his command. "Get those ballistae going! Crossbowmen, fire at will."
The surviving ballistae lashed out at the oncoming elven cavalry, decimating the front ranks. The horses wheeled and bucked and snorted, terrified at the blood and noise. The infantry, coming behind them, stopped dead in their tracks.
"Fire!" yelled Kang.
Ballistae missiles smashed into the enemy.
The elven cavalry routed, turned and ran. The horses crashed through the infantry lines to their rear, killing the elves' own soldiers, and sending them into panic-stricken retreat.
"Let's speed them on their way!" Kang shouted. He jumped down from the ramparts, followed by his men. They were about to chase after the retreating elves, planning on picking off a few stragglers and putting to death the wounded, when-out of the corner of his eye-Kang saw glinting armor.
He was afraid at first he'd made a mistake, wheeled to face this new threat, only to discover that it was Nemik's Death Riders, the First Dragonarmy's senior regiment of cavalry. They charged past the draconians and into the fray, demolishing the forces to their front.
Kang ordered his men back. Their job was done. "Reform!"
The command echoed down the line. Slowly, the draconians formed into battle lines.
This day was theirs. Kang's strategy had worked.
He ordered his troops back to the ramparts. On his way, he stopped at the carcass of the fallen copper dragon.
Tchk'pal lay beside the dragon. The top of the minotaur's head was covered with blood. The two horns were still embedded in the dragon's chest. Kang gazed in silent wonder. A thrown lance might have glanced off the armored beast, but not even the heaviest scales or the thickest hide could withstand the impact of a catapulted minotaur.
The elf dragonrider lay dead beneath the carcass of the dragon. Kang sliced the dragonrider to bits with his sword. The Golden General-or whoever was in command-would know that it was draconians who had killed this officer.
"Where's our fearless leader?" asked Slith, coming up from behind.
Kang pointed. The two walked over to take a closer look at the minotaur's body. They were debating whether or not it would be wise to haul the cow's carcass back to present to Lord Rajak, when the carcass moved.
"Great Chemosh!" Kang's wings flapped involuntarily, carried him half a foot
into the air before he recovered from the shock.
Slith stood, frozen with horror.
The minotaur's huge horns were still embedded in the dragon's chest. Tchk'pal began twisting and turning, pushing at the dragon with his hands, trying to free himself.
"Kang! Kang!" Tchk'pal shouted. "I can see you, Kang!"
"We're dead dracos," said Slith in a low tone. "He's bound to remember that we did this to him! Maybe I should just sort of accidentally run him through with my sword, sir-"
A shout arose from behind them.
"Too late," Kang muttered. "Someone's seen us."
He looked back to see Lord Rajak, surrounded by his human bodyguards, touring the battlefield. They had spotted the body of the copper dragon and were coming over to investigate.
Kang saluted and stood at attention.
Covered in gore, Tchk'pal staggered to his feet, reeling and clutching his aching head.
Rajak regarded them with astonishment. "I must say that I'm pleasantly surprised. My new Third Regiment has won the day. You're covered in blood, Tchk'pal. What happened to you?"
The minotaur groaned, scowled, and opened his mouth.
"Sir," said Kang, before the minotaur could say a word, "you would not believe it! Our regimental commander single-handedly slew this dragon. He gored it, sir. An act of courage that, I'll wager, has never been performed by any other minotaur alive. He then took on the whole of the enemy cavalry by himself. He fell on them like a thunderbolt, sir. As if he were dropped from the heavens!"
Slith choked, coughed.
"It was a sight to behold, sir!" Kang continued fervently. "True glory and honor to our commander! Hip, hip! Hurrah!" He gave a cheer.
Slith, somewhat belatedly, echoed it.
Tchk'pal gaped, blinked, dazed.
Rajak walked over to the dead dragon. He could see the holes left by the minotaur's horns in the dragon's chest. Rajak gazed at Tchk'pal in awe.
"By the Dark Queen! I've never seen the like! Well done, Tchk'pal! As the draco said, you have earned great glory and honor. I shall see that you are rewarded. Regimental Commander, you will accompany me."
2 - The Dragons at War Page 22