As Tagg got to his feet, Glitch stepped forward. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Well…" Glitch hesitated in confusion, trying to recall what he had sent Tagg to do.
"That thing got wings?" Gandy rasped.
"It got wings, all right. Got claws an' tail an' gashes, too." Recovering his candle, Tagg handed it back to Glitch. "Highbulp want any more look, Highbulp go look. I" ve seen enough."
"Gashes?" Gandy blinked. "What kind gashes?"
"That dragon all sliced up," Tagg told him. "Somebody hurt it pretty bad."
Minna eased up beside him, gazing with sympathy at the hideous face of the green dragon asleep a few feet away. "Poor thing," she said.
As she spoke, the dragon's eyes opened to slits, then closed again. It shifted slightly, sighed, and seemed to relax, as though the pain of its wounds had somehow eased a bit.
For an hour, then, they searched for a way out of the rubble trap. They found nothing — at least, nothing they could reach without going past the dragon. The shifting of the beast in its lair had resettled the fallen stone, blocking every exit. One after another, the searchers gave up, shrugging and gathering into a tight little group as far from the dragon as they could get.
When it was obvious that they were truly trapped, Clout asked — of no one in particular — "So, now what?"
Gandy scratched his head and leaned on his mop handle. "Dunno," he said. "Better ask what's-'is- name."
"Who?"
"WHAT'S-'is-name. Th' Highbulp " He turned. "Highbulp, what we do now?" He peered around in the dimness. "Highbulp? Where th' Highbulp?"
It took a few minutes to find him. With nothing better to do. Glitch I had curled up beside a rock. He was sound asleep.
They were all asleep when Verden Leafglow awakened — gully dwarves everywhere, scattered in clumps and clusters about the dim recess, most of them snoring. At a glance, she counted more than sixty of the little creatures in plain sight, and knew there were more of them behind rocks, in the shadows, and beneath or beyond the sleeping heaps. One of them, she knew, had even crept past her into her lair, thinking that in sleep she might not notice. But it had only looked around and returned to the others.
Her first inclination was to simply exterminate them. But she had a better idea. They might be useful to her, if she kept them alive for a time — and if she could make them serve her.
Gully dwarves. Her contempt for them was even greater than the contempt most other races felt for the Aghar. As a dragon, she loathed ALL other races, and these were certainly the most contemptible of the contemptible. Even compared to the intelligence of humans, full dwarves, and others of the kind, the mentality of gully dwarves was so incredibly simple that it bordered on imbecility. And compared to dragon intelligence, it was nothing at all.
Still, the pathetic creatures had certain instincts that might be useful. They were excellent foragers, adept at getting into and searching out places that others might not even know existed. And they were good at finding things, provided they managed to concentrate their attention on the effort for any length of time.
Somewhere here, among the rubble of the destroyed city of Chaldis, was her self-stone. In her sleep she had sensed its presence. With her self-stone, she could heal herself completely. Properly motivated, the gully dwarves might find and deliver the self-stone.
Closing her eyes, she thought a spell, and her dragonsenses heard the beginnings of tiny movements among the rubble beyond the rock-fall cavern where the gully dwarves were trapped. Tiny, scurrying sounds, hints of movement carried more by vibration in the stones than by any real noise. She concentrated on the spell, and the hints of movement increased in number and volume. She added a dimension of difference to the spell, and other movements could be sensed; slithering, scuffing movements seeming to come from the soil above her lair.
The vibrations became true sound, and things scuttled in the deepest shadows within the chamber. From cracks and crevices everywhere, small things emerged, coming toward her. Rats and mice, here and there a squirrel, a rabbit or a hare — they emerged by the dozens, answering the call of her spell.
For a moment it seemed the place was filled with rodents, darting around and over the tumbles of sleeping gully dwarves, then they were all directly in front of her. Moving carefully, ignoring the pain of her injuries, she thrust out her right paw, and its talons sliced downward, slaughtering great numbers of the rodents. Using her tail, she scraped the ceiling of her lair, and brought forth the herbs and roots that hung there, drawn downward from above by her magic. These she pushed from tail to foot to forepaw, and deposited them in front of her hole, beside the dead rodents there. A final twist to the spell, and rocks moved, somewhere above. Seconds later, water began to drip from the roof of rubble, a small spring diverted to flow through the chamber. And a small, crackling fire appeared in mid-chamber.
"Wake up, you detestable creatures," Verden Leafglow rumbled. "Wake up and make stew. You are no good to me if you starve."
"Sure. We find thing for you. No problem. What thing is?" Glitch I stifled a belch and grinned a reassuring grin at the monstrous face looking at him from its hole.
After the first shock of sharing a closed cave of rubble with a dragon had worn off, and when it became obvious that the dragon didn't intend to kill them and eat them — at least not right away — the Clans of Bulp had gotten down to business. First things first. They were hungry, and there was food.
Within minutes, savory stew was bubbling in their best pot over what — to some of the ladies especially — was the most remarkable cooking fire they had ever encountered. The fire seemed to have no fuel, nor to need any, and none of them had ever seen stew become stew so quickly.
Then, when their bellies were full, the dragon explained to them what she needed. She seemed, despite her great size and horrendous appearance, to be a pleasant enough dragon. Her voice was low and comforting, her words simple enough for most of them to understand and she even managed to seem to smile now and then. Quite a few of them discovered — without ever considering that there might be a touch of magic involved here — that they were really quite fond of the unfortunate Verden Leaf glow.
"The thing I need is a small thing," she told the Highbulp. "It is a sort of stone, about this big…" A huge, three-fingered "hand" with needle-sharp talons a foot long appeared beside the green face, two talons indicating a size. About an inch and a half.
"Lotta stones 'round here," Glitch said dubiously, looking around the cavern. "Whole lot more outside, though. Oughtta look outside of here."
"By all means," Verden agreed. "Outside, of course. And I am sure that, once you are outside, you wouldn't for a minute consider just going off and leaving me, would you?"
"Nope," Glitch shook his head, speaking just a bit too loudly. "Nope, wouldn' do that. Sure wouldn'."
"Of course you wouldn't," Verden said softly. "Because that would be very unwise."
"Sure would," Glitch agreed emphatically. Then his face twisted in confusion. "How come not wise?"
"Because only a few of you will go out to search," the dragon hissed. Suddenly, as subtly as the narrowing of her eyes, all hints of the "friendly" dragon were gone and the gully dwarves saw Verden Leaf glow as she really was. "All the rest will remain here," she said, "with me."
As they cowered away from her, she pointed with a huge talon. "You," she said, pointing at old Gandy. "You will search. And you." This time she pointed at Tagg. "You two, and three more. The rest stay. The way out is here" — a talon turned, pointing — "just behind my head."
Some of them crept closer to look. Just behind the "hole," on her right side, was a crevice in the rubble. Tagg grabbed Minna's hand and headed for the opening. Abruptly, the dragon moved her head, blocking the way. "Not the female," Verden hissed. "She stays."
Verden knew her choices were right. The old gully dwarf with the mop handle staff was, within the limits of Aghar intelligence, the smartest of them all. He
would search well, and he was the least likely to wander off. The young male was the same one who had slid past her to look into her lair. For his kind, he had a certain courage and a degree of curiosity. And it was unlikely that he would flee, as long as the dragon had the female he favored.
She would also keep the one they called Highbulp. The rest had a certain dim loyalty to him, she sensed — probably more than he had to any of them.
She moved her head again. "Go. Now! Find the disk that cut me. The stone should be nearby."
Tagg and Gandy darted past the dragon's jaws and through the opening, Tagg glancing back at Minna with frightened eyes. As soon as they were out, others hurried to follow them. Verden let three others pass, then blocked the way again.
Verden relaxed. There was a chance the gully dwarves would find the self-stone. It was somewhere nearby. She could sense its presence, dimly. There was a chance they would recover it for her. If not… well, then she would just have to kill them and try to find it, herself.
As her eyes closed, the hostages began to chatter among themselves. She ignored them, then opened one eye in mild curiosity. "Promised place?" she murmured. "What promised place?"
From his refuge behind a rank of his subjects, Glitch peeked out at her. "P… Promised Place," he said. "Where we s'posed to go. Our de… density."
"Density? You mean, destiny?"
"Right. Dest'ny."
"And where is the Promised Place?"
"Dunno," Glitch admitted. "Nobody know."
She closed her eye again, bored with the "density" of gully dwarves. Within seconds she was asleep.
With Clout and two others — Gogy and Plit — following them, Gandy and Tagg made their way back to where they had found the dented disk. The dragon had said to look there, and they were in no mood to argue with a dragon.
More than a day had passed. Maybe two or three days, for all they knew. The smoke that had lingered above the ruined city was gone now, blown away, and only bleak rubble remained. But otherwise, things were as they had been… almost. Rounding a turn in a ravine among rubble, the five heard voices ahead. Clinging to shadow, they crept forward to see who was there. Tagg was the first to see, and he almost bowled the others over, backpedaling. Talls," he whispered. "Sh!"
From the shadowed mouth of a "tunnel" where great stones had fallen across the gaps between other stones, they peered out.
The humans ahead of them were ragged and scarred. There were two of them, and they were working frantically at the great, tumbled skeleton of the fallen discobel, turning its huge crank inch by inch as the long throwing arm rose above them. Lying on its side, the sidearm thing became a slanted pole, its outward end creeping toward the sky above the sheer walls of rubble around them.
"No business… comin' this way… in the first place," one of them grunted, heaving at the windlass of the crank. "Nothin' here.. just ruins."
"Shut up!" the other hissed. "Your fault we… fell in this — canyon… now pull… harder… only way to… get out of here."
In the shadows. Clout whispered, "What Talls doin'?"
"Dunno," Gandy shrugged. "Tall stuff don' make sense. Hush."
Slowly, out in the little clear area (which was, indeed, like a deep canyon among sheer walls, if one looked at it as a human would, not seeing the many avenues of exit that were like highways to gully dwarves), the two men labored at the discobel's windlass and the sling arm rose inch by inch. Several times they had to stop and rest, but finally the arm stood straight up, its tip only a few feet from the nearest wall of stone.
The men looked up. "That'll do," one of them panted. "Let's tie it off. I'd hate to have that thing trigger itself while we're climbing up there."
The other paled at the thought, and trembled. "Gods," he muttered. "Splat!"
"Shut up and tie this thing off with something. Here, what's this? The set-pin?" He picked up a sturdy cylinder of worked hardwood, about three feet long, and glanced from it to the barrel of the discobel. "Yeah, there's its slot. Hold that windlass 'til I get this in place."
With the other bracing the windlass, he set the pin in its slot and tapped it with a rock to firm it. The other eased off on the crank, eased a bit more, then stood back, sighing in relief. The pin held. The machine remained motionless.
"Let's get out of here," one of them said. Gingerly, he stepped to the base of the cranked-up arm and grasped it. Using its guy-bars as hand- and foot-holds, he began to climb. The other followed. From below, they looked like a pair of squirrels climbing a huge tree trunk, except that instead of branches, the trunk had triangles of cable bracings, held outward by heavy wooden guy-bars. They climbed higher and higher. At the top they hesitated, then swung from the tip of the arm to the top of the jagged wall, and disappeared from sight. Their voices faded, and were gone.
"Wonder what that all about," Tagg muttered. He scratched his head and looked around, puzzled. There was something he was supposed to do, but he had become so engrossed in watching the Talls that he had forgotten what it was. The others had, too, but after a moment old Gandy snapped his fingers. "Find stone for dragon," he reminded them. "Stone 'bout this big."
They stepped out from the "tunnel" and peered around. "Lotta stones 'bout that big, all over," Tagg pointed out. "Which one?"
"Dunno," Gandy admitted. "Better take 'em all."
They set to work gathering small stones — all except Clout, who had lost his bashing tool somewhere and felt uncomfortable without it. He set about finding a new bashing tool.
With Gandy selecting rocks, and Tagg, Plit, and Gogy collecting them, they had a nice pile of stones going by the time Clout found what he was looking for. It was a sturdy cylinder of polished hardwood, resting among the inexplicable vagaries of the great wooden device lying in the rubble.
It was exactly what he wanted, but it seemed to be stuck. He pulled at it, heaved at it, and it budged slightly but would not come free. Frowning with determination, he clambered out of the maze of timbers, found a good, heavy stone, and went back in.
Clout had a philosophy of life — only one, but it had always served him well. His philosophy was: if a thing won't move when you want it to move, bash it.
From outside, they heard him hammering in there — among the maze of timbers — and looked up. "What Clout doin'?" Plit asked.
"Dunno," Gandy shrugged, frowning. "Not gettin' stones, though."
The hammering went on, and then its ringing took on a new sound. After each thud, something creaked, and far above — though those below didn't notice it — the great braced arm began to tremble.
"Almos' got it," Clout's voice came from the timbers.
He banged again, and again, and abruptly the whole world went crazy. The entire maze of timbers groaned, crackled and heaved upward, seeming to dance. And the tall, heavy arm above shot downward, with such force that the air sang around it. It arched toward the ground, impelled by the released windlass, and smashed into the soil only yards from where the other gully dwarves were stacking their rocks.
The impact was enormous. Gully dwarves, rocks and surrounding rubble flew upward. Partial walls that still stood among the rubble teetered and fell, and a cloud of dust rose to blank out everything from sight. Below the dancing rubble, a deep, cavernous rumble sounded, and in its echoes came a muted roar of surprise and outrage. The very ground seemed to fall, resettling several feet lower than it had been.
For a time there was silence, then the dust blanketing the ground shifted and a small head came up. "Wha' happen?" Tagg asked.
Around him, others arose from the dust, wide-eyed and shaken. Plit and Gogy appeared first, then old Gandy, coughing and spitting dust.
"Wha' happen?" someone echoed Tagg's question.
Gandy looked around, bewildered. Then he looked up and blinked. "Fling-thing fall down," he said.
Not far away, the maze of timbers that had been a discobel was now an entirely different maze. It had rolled over, its timbers realigning in the process. At f
irst the gully dwarves could see no movement there, then there were scuffing sounds and Clout appeared, crawling from a gap between broken spars. He got out, dusted himself off and blinked at the rest of them.
"Where Clout been?" Gandy demanded.
Clout held up a sturdy cylinder of polished wood. "Got new bashin' tool," he explained. "Wha' happen out here?"
The carefully-collected pile of rocks was gone — scattered all over the clearing. Gandy sighed and began again to pick up stones. The others watched for a moment, then joined him. And as other gully dwarves appeared, chattering, Gandy silenced them with a glare. "No talk," he snapped. "Get rocks."
Soon there were dozens of them there, all busily picking up stones. And then more, and then still more.
Suddenly, Tagg glanced around and saw Minna beside him, gathering rocks. He blinked, frowned and remembered. "What Minna doin' out here?" he asked.
"Gettin' little rocks," she explained. "Somebody say to."
"Where dragon? Let everybody go?"
"Hole fall down," she said. "Dragon can't move. Foun' new gully, though, for come out."
"Oh." He looked around. There were gully dwarves everywhere, all collecting stones. But to Tagg, that didn't seem quite as important as it had before. He went and found Gandy, and explained the situation to him. "Dragon don' got everybody anymore." he said. "Look."
It took a lot longer for Gandy to get everyone to stop collecting rocks than it had taken to get them to start. Inertia is a powerful force among gully dwarves. But finally they were all gathered around Gandy and someone asked, "What we do now?"
"Dunno," he said. "Ask Highbulp." He turned full circle, searching. "Where what's-'is-name?"
"Who?"
"Th' Highbulp! Ol' Glitch. Where th' Highbulp?"
None of them knew, so they went looking for Glitch I. They found him, eventually, right where they had left him.
Glitch had slept through the "earthquake," only to wake up and find everyone gone. He sat up, rubbed his eyes and noticed that the stones had shifted and a new tunnel had opened. So he headed that way, grumbling. It was just like his subjects to wander off and leave their leader to catch up when he got around to it.
The War of the Lance t2-3 Page 12