Polo Shawcross: Dragon Soldier

by Lee Abrey

  “To us,” I said, and we all drank to that. For a while we drank, smoked, and talked. I quietly nuzzled Belinda’s neck as she sat on my knee and told us all about her swine of a fiance. Every time she talked, especially over how outraged she was over Johnny’s behaviour, her shapely bottom quivered all over my lap in an irresistible fashion. Then she’d feel how hard I was and deliberately grind against me.

  She was a well-educated professional from a good family and I guessed usually quite demure. However, she was very, very annoyed. Even her bottom on my lap was rather firm and definitely angry.

  “Ex-fiance!” said Belinda, taking the pipe from Ross. “It’s over!”

  “Maybe you’ll get back together,” said Ross, “think about it, lass. You sure you want to do us?” I groaned.

  “Ross-” I began to say.

  “Don’t be silly,” Belinda said, and grinned, “time I had some fun. I arrived here with his ring on my finger to find he’s engaged to some floozy. Engaged!” Quick bottom-quiver that reached to my bones. I muffled a whimper of desire. “Not only been seeing her on the side,” Belinda went on, “poor him, trapped up here for all of three months! Bloody engaged!”

  “Might not be the whole story,” said Fenric, “be silly to act in anger.” I frowned at him. First they’d muscled in, now suddenly they were being responsible older brothers instead of fellow sexual adventurers.

  As one can imagine, the idea that Belinda might rethink sex with us, or at least me, was making me unhappy. I might die soon and wanted sex. I especially wanted sex with Belinda. Who cared about ethics? I tried to glare over her shoulder at the others. She shook her head at Fenric. I gave her a squeeze and nudged her glass within reach. She took a mouthful.

  “There I was,” she said, pouting, “being a good girl.”

  “Aye,” I said, sounding encouraging, and pressing against her, “teach the prick a lesson.” She giggled and wriggled. I gasped. Fenric laughed.

  “Not that Polo’s biased or anything, Belinda,” he said. She grinned. Wriggled a little more on my lap.

  “Well,” she said, “to be honest, he’s talented. I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but he’s very good with his tongue.”

  “Aye,” said Ross, “so the ladies say.” I scowled at Ross. I needn’t have worried.

  “I hope you’re all orally-fixated too,” said Belinda, giggling. “Oh, I don’t believe I said that.” She giggled more while I gave Fenric a smug look. I pretended to take a bow, Belinda grinning on my lap. Her ex-fiance was a peasant like her, an enlisted man, and we Blood were the perfect revenge sex. I really didn’t mind being used like that. She was slightly disappointed to discover we weren’t quite officers, but mollified to find Fenric and Ross both used to be.

  “Decorated ex-officers,” I said, “Fenric was a colonel.”

  “And as Polo’s notorious, and a duke,” said Fenric, deciding to be helpful at last, “he’s not bad as an officer substitute.”

  “You’re Polo Shawcross?” she said suddenly.

  “Aye,” I said, kissed her shoulder, bare thanks to me having undone the top of her dress for at least the second time that night, “that’s me.” The others said I was indeed notorious.

  “The idiot Duke of Starshore,” said Ross, laughing. “He’s not as smart as they make him out to be in the books.” I laughed too.

  “Gods, Ross,” I said, “the person in those books is a complete idiot.”

  “He is, eh?” said Ross. “True to life or what?” I pretended to ignore him.

  “However,” said Fenric, “the sexual stuff is mostly true. Or they toned it down for publication.” She nodded and gestured at us.

  “I figured it might be. This is normal for you?” We all shrugged.

  “Normal,” I said, licking her bared back, “what’s normal?” She giggled and squirmed. I rather liked her squirming. Not that her giggle wasn’t sweet, but the squirming was good.

  “It’s normal,” said Fenric, looking thoughtful. “Sex is easy.” Belinda made a snorting noise. He smiled. “It’s why we have it that’s the tricky part. What, sex isn’t easy for you?” She looked reflective. “Pretty lass like you?” he said in a disbelieving tone. “You could get a tumble any time you snap your fingers.”

  “I suppose I could,” she said, and paused. “But then they’d be saying I’m a slut and not fit to teach children. I would quite like to be easy, it’s more interesting. Are Blood women allowed to be easy?” We all sighed. Ross talked about how things were changing, possibly slower for the peasant women, but it was the same everywhere.

  For much of our early planetary history women were slaves, bought and sold, kept for breeding, not allowed any freedoms, less autonomy than cattle. Law ordered their every sexual contact, they were given drugs to bring on multiple births, and sex was not for fun but purely to populate what was an empty planet.

  It was only about a thousand years ago that the laws were revoked in the kingdoms. Naturally, women still distrusted men and some men thought women were less than equal. Old habits died hard if at all. I wondered aloud why people clung to outmoded and damaging ideas.

  “Those ideas enable them to keep others down,” said Fenric.

  “Well,” said Belinda, “in my opinion, the whole notion of sex for fun being alright for men but not for women is nonsensical, makes it a lose-lose situation for women who have sex at all.” I gave her a squeeze and kissed her shoulder. My mother raised me to respect women, especially to respect their capacity for violence.

  “Now I’m worried,” I said, risking aforesaid violence, “what if you don’t respect me in the morning?”

  Laughing, she tried to cuff me and we ended up kissing. It was very passionate. “You alright?” I said very softly against her cheek. She smiled and looked around.

  “I’m in charge?” she said.

  “Aye,” we all said. Cue us moving to the bed, shedding clothes as we went. Then we had to pretend to sudden decorum as food arrived.

  “Wonderful,” said Belinda, “I wasn’t hungry earlier, as you can imagine. Now I’ve worked up an appetite.”

  “So have I,” I said.

  “We had a huge dinner at the Brown Onion,” said Ross, shaking his head at me.

  “He has to eat every hour or he faints,” Fenric said to Belinda.

  “Do not,” I said. The effect of my denial was spoiled by the oyster I was just tipping into my mouth.

  ****

  The sun was coming up, turning the grey of predawn into silver, blending into a rich pink along the valleys that led to the horizon as Fenric, Ross and I stumbled down the hill back to the yacht. Belinda was supposed to be leaving that day so needed some sleep. So did we. As the light hit us at every intersection, we winced, narrowing our eyes against the glare and groaning. Champagne cocktails after dinner, even with oysters and other tasty treats, was a Very Bad Idea, though it had been fun at the time, but now we were horribly hungover.

  People were shouting too much despite the hour. At the wharves the morning’s shipping was already moving out, going to who knew where. It was all overly loud and busy for my delicate state. The water slid away, back to the sea. I suddenly longed to be going with it but suppressed the thought.

  I wasn’t going to run. The army would be like high school but not as long. Surely I could last three years in the army? I originally signed up for three years at the Military Guild. Admittedly I barely lasted half a year there but was doing well, then started at the Harvesters Guild, where I was going fine for another half-year.

  We walked up the gangway to find the sailors in a state. A trespasser had been sighted on the yacht.

  “A trespasser?” I said. “Have we been robbed?” It seemed not. As they always were in port, locked staterooms and cabins were still locked, but a woman was seen below decks and nobody saw her arrive or leave. We went below to check but those of us gone all night couldn’t find anything missing. We did take the opportunity to take some hangover remedies. Mostly wil
low and water and some of my leftover mindweed tincture. Then I tried to focus.

  A woman on board, especially as described, didn’t seem dangerous, but we should at least investigate. The three sailors who’d seen her had been drunk, and as they said, naked women weren’t unusual on this yacht so they didn’t report her at first.

  “Just thought Himself was more, well, himself,” said one of them, nodding to me. I smiled. I was indeed more myself. Also the willow bark was kicking in and aside from the hangover it had been a good night.

  “This naked woman used coasters?” said the captain, and the sailors nodded briskly.

  “She was very careful about the woodwork, captain. Gave us the good cork coasters with our coffees, used a cork mat with her plate. Very pretty redhead, about thirty?” About ten minutes after the sailors had last seen her, they made more coffee and decided to take a cup to the watch. They mentioned the woman to the watchman. Knowing we were still in town, with no sign of her arrival on board and nothing in the log, he raised the alarm. The sailors were apologetic over their failure to immediately report the intruder.

  “Thought she was one of your lasses, Your Grace,” one said. It was a fair assumption.

  “Did she have blue-green eyes?” I said.

  “Didn’t really see, Your Grace.” He blushed a bit. “She was naked and we were surprised, finding her in the galley. Much prettier than the cook.” Cook snorted. The sailor went on, “She was making ham and eggs, said, did we want any? Said we had to keep her company with a coffee at least.” He looked up at me. “She was wearing an apron, Your Grace.”

  The naked-except-for-the-apron trespasser ate her meal then said a cheery goodbye to the rather awed sailors. She was very nice, asking about their families, then shed the apron as she left. “Natural redhead, Your Grace.”

  As the sailors would recognise Azrael’s mother, Saraia, the Sendrenese Princess Royal, there was only one other person it could be. There were probably claw-marks on one of the railings or the deck. The captain was going to kill me.

  In spite of that, I smiled, especially at the realisation that I knew two redheads with enough aplomb to chat politely to strangers after sneaking aboard my yacht whilst making themselves a naked supper. Only one of them could fly away. Thinking to face his wrath now, get it over with, I told the captain I was afraid we might find some damage.

  “The woman is one of the Dragon from the south,” I said, “she will have taken off from the deck.” We went for a walk around the ship. Sure enough, down by the stern were some gouges in the rail. I pointed them out to the captain, expecting him to be irate. To my surprise, real dragon claw-marks were something he didn’t seem to mind. Captain Ernst ran his fingers along the splintered grooves.

  “Though we’ll need to do some repairs,” he said. “A new part of her history.”

  “Someone Dragon chasing you?” said Ross, yawning. “Do I need to know?” I shook my head.

  “It’s fine, it’s Lilith,” I said, “she’s not out to kill me.”

  ****

  Lilith had a bit of a soft spot for me. I wasn’t sure why, but it was to my advantage. She had saved my life three times, once with her own blood. I wondered what the inimitable Lilith, queen of the Dragon tribe for rather more years than she would care to mention, had wanted. If it was important I was sure she’d come back. I felt heartened to know she’d dropped in. Maybe I wasn’t as doomed as I thought, if only Lilith would watch over me.

  I went into my cabin to find a note tucked into my journal .

  Try not to get killed, idiot - I need you.

  As usual, she signed it without any titles, just Lilith. There was a PS.

  Tell your cook I ate a lot of ham and eggs. I washed up. Also shocked your staff. Forgot I was naked until I was leaving.

  I could almost hear her laughter. There was a vision to warm my heart, Lilith doing the washing-up wearing only an apron. I left the note into my journal and made an entry, in case of pregnancy, that I’d had sex, and mentioned Belinda by name. The men were mentioned too, paternity being an inexact science. Then I took a quick shower before crawling into bed.

  The linen was the best, the pillows were stuffed with the finest down, and I should both appreciate and enjoy the luxury. Come Monday I’d have army blankets.

  ****

  Chapter 23 – Drugs and Violence

  That afternoon when I woke, as I took some more willow tea for the lingering hangover headache, it occurred to me that it also made sense not to front up for the first day feeling ill. Instead, tonight would be my last night of hedonistic craziness, my last drink for a while. During Sunday I could feel like death, then on Monday front up clear-eyed for basic training.

  Teetotal might be best for the duration. Everyone advised me to lay off booze unless I was on leave. Be silly to die because I ended up on duty while my eyes were drink-affected.

  The same band was going to play at the Black Pig Inn, and the others wanted to see the hot singer again, though first we needed food. I was thinking it was a pity Belinda was gone. I’ve never been a fan of one-night-stands. Why bother getting to know someone fun then dump them after one night? Assuming one wanted rather a lot of great sex, it seemed counter-productive

  “-drunkenness means you lose the advantage your eyes give you,” said Ross, interrupting my thoughts on sexual ethics.

  I nodded, remembering how my vision was when I turned into a dragon. Being wingless, I wasn’t a very good dragon but would give my duchy to transform again, to see life pulsing in the vein. I saw well in low light but when in dragon-shape anything living glowed a little, people more than say vegetation. A man hiding behind a rock could be seen by the glow of his life force.

  Pity I hadn’t repeated the trick of changing shape, as a thick hide and dragon-sight would be useful for the army. Dragon no longer fought on the side of Man, the last time was a few centuries ago. I wondered, if I really got the knack of transforming, would I have to go south and join the tribe? I couldn’t see people accepting me if I stayed in the other kingdoms. Even the Blood were suspicious of Dragon.

  At least that was what everyone said, but the numbers of Blood soldiers around made the lie apparent. We certainly tumbled each other. Blood, Dragon, and human, our bloodlines tangled in children who, as soon as they could, began interbreeding with every variation of the Homo genus they could find.

  Dragon might not fight openly, but the sons and grandsons of Dragon were everywhere. I could smell people who must be half-human or less, their Dragon side stronger to my senses than my own scent, half-peasant and slightly-more-than-a-quarter Dragon. Dragon could be made instead of born, or so I’d read. One just needed enough extracted draconium from a Dragon’s blood.

  Was I able to tell human from Dragon thanks to some skill developed as a result of my one shape-change, itself the result of a fair amount of work learning to meditate and then being scared almost senseless, or had taking blood from Dragons contributed to enhancing my senses?

  It was only six months since Stefan had given the gift of his Dragon blood which enabled my body to heal itself. Before him, the queen herself donated. Then I felt awful because just for a moment I forgot four Dragons saved my life. Lilith and Stefan were two, but before them were Murray and Virginia. Poor Virginia who died, as Fenric put it once, from the terminal disease of Standing Too Close To Polo. For a while there everyone including me thought I was a marked man.

  To live through all that and then sign my life away? I throttled the thought and focused on the evening.

  The heat was even worse than the night before, not a breath of air. The sky over the mountains was stormy and I hoped the rain I could smell came our way. Some of the sailors recommended the food at a local street market. It wasn’t just that we were sensible about eating before a big night of drinking, more that like all Sendrenese we were close to fetishistic about food.

  As it said in the Book of Thet, if you were alive it was worth cramming joy into every crevice. T
he thought lightened my step, as did thoughts of eating. As we walked closer to the market we just followed our noses. It smelled quite wonderful, though I was concerned about eating at a street stall in a foreign country. Wasn’t that supposed to be dangerous?

  “I hope we don’t all die of dysentery,” I said. Fenric shook his head.

  “Anyone who poisons people in an army town won’t last long,” he said. I could see the sense of that. A group of military polis went past, several of them looking at us in a way that said they were noting our descriptions. In reply, Ross spat on the ground. One of them stopped and glared at him. I pretended to be very interested in a shop window.

  “Oh,” I said, “look. You can get a painting of yourself to send to your family.” The military polis were past and we all breathed out. “So,” I said, “what was that about?”

  “Scum,” said Ross.

  “Aye,” said Fenric, “pretty much. Most of them enjoy their work too much.” There was much muttering from Ross about understatement and how the army polis force was the repository for the most sadistic and brutal psychopaths the army had.

  “I didn’t realise they were that bad,” I said.

  “Keep out of their way,” Ross said, “those bastards have the power of life and death over every soldier.”

  We decided later that was prophetic of him, but by then we were already in the stockade.

  ****

  While we waited for food from a busy stall, Fenric ordered their chilled fruit teas, perfect for the heat of the night. We didn’t realise they were alcoholic. Fenric and I just saw them being handed to another customer, and I said,

  “What’s that? It looks wonderful.”

  “High Island Tea, sirs,” said the stallholder, with a wave to his chalked sign. I only glanced at it, saw drawings of fruit next to the written description, which I didn’t read. “Very refreshing.”