by Don Perrin
Hanra glared at her sister, but, under the eyes of the quartermaster and his assistants, she could do nothing but obey.
“Yes, sir!” she said, saluting with a snap of her hand and her teeth.
The quartermaster peered uncertainly at the apparent member of the Queen’s Own. The sun outside was bright, the warehouse dark. He wasn’t sure who this one was.
“Can I help you, sir?” he asked.
“Requisition for twenty broadswords,” said Shanra, tossing the scroll down on the table in bored fashion.
“Yes, sir,” said the quartermaster. He glanced at it and, finding it all in order, said, “I’ll have these delivered. The usual place?”
Shanra stiffened. Behind her, she heard Hanra make a smothered sound.
“Uh, n-no, that won’t do. We … That is the general … wants them now. Immediately. I brought my aide …” Shanra gestured behind her. “We’ll carry them,” she finished weakly.
“Well …” The quartermaster looked dubious. “If you say so …”
“General’s orders,” Shanra said desperately.
The quartermaster shrugged. He had the requisition, complete with the general’s official seal. If the Queen’s Own wanted to lug twenty broadswords through the streets, who was he to argue? No scales off his snout. He ordered his assistants to fetch the weapons.
Hanra, outside the warehouse, looked nervously up and down the street, expecting fifty members of the Queen’s Own to come swooping down on her and her sister, declaring them imposters, outlaws, murderers and thieves. Inside the warehouse, Shanra tried to appear casual and nonchalant. She had just about succeeded in this when it occurred to her that perhaps one of the godlike Queen’s Own should look stern and impatient.
“Let’s hurry it up there,” she said imperiously, staring down her nose at the quartermaster.
“Yes, sir,” said the quartermaster. “Here they come now, sir.”
Two baaz assistants came out of the darkness of the warehouse’s interior, bearing between them a large wooden box. From the depths of the box came a most satisfactory sound of steel clattering against steel. The baaz plumped down the box with a thump.
Shanra looked at the box, looked at her sister. The two knelt to lift it.
The quartermaster stared, rose to his feet. “Sir! You shouldn’t be having to carry that! I’ll send my assistants—”
“No, no!” Shanra said. “Quite all right. I … need the exercise! Um, er, punishment for getting my tabard muddy! Let’s get a move on, there!” she said sternly to her sister.
“Yes, sir!” said Hanra enthusiastically. For once the two were in complete agreement.
The sisters hefted the heavy box with ease and were out of the warehouse and dashing down the street before the quartermaster had fully recovered from the shock.
“I never saw the like!” he said, amazed.
“Me neither, sir,” said one of his assistants.
“Did you recognize that sivak?”
“I’ve seen him around, sir,” said the baaz.
“Yes, me, too. I can’t seem to remember his name, though.”
“I wonder what the general’s doing with all those swords,” the baaz said. “Forty swords a week ago. Twenty two days ago. Twenty more today. We’re starting to run low. Maybe it’s something to do with those damn gobbos.”
“Maybe,” said the quartermaster. He stared very hard at the requisition. All was in order. That was the general’s seal. He shook his head. “Maybe.”
* * * * *
General Maranta was inside his command tent and agreed to see Commander Kang. Two of the Queen’s Own standing outside the tent closely scrutinized Kang before he entered. He had not worn his battle-axe or any other weapon and so he was passed through without difficulty.
The command tent was large enough to accommodate not only the general but several aides, who were busy at various occupations. In addition, the tent held a large table on which was spread out an enormous map of the area, a large desk occupied by the general, and smaller desks for his aides.
Kang waited near the tent flap until General Maranta should take notice him. The general was not one to make an officer cool his claws just to show that he could do so. General Maranta waved Kang over almost immediately.
“Any sign of your deserters?” General Maranta asked.
Kang set his jaw, looked over the general’s head at a spot on the tent. “I don’t think they deserted, sir,” he said.
“You don’t?” General Maranta’s eyes narrowed. He pointed to the south. “There’s eight thousand goblins out there right now, Commander. And more coming. I hate to say it, but we have to face facts. Vertax lost three men from his regiment the night before—”
“My men wouldn’t desert, sir,” Kang said proudly. “We’ve been in tough situations before this and my troops haven’t run. They wouldn’t do so now, sir.”
“I see,” said General Maranta coolly. “You consider yourself a better commander, your troops more loyal—”
“No, sir,” said Kang, embarrassed. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just—” He floundered, helpless to explain. How could he make this aurak understand the community they had built, the hard times they’d endured, the good times they had celebrated. All of them together. He couldn’t and so he gave up. “I don’t believe they deserted. I think there’s some other explanation. I think something happened to them and I mean to find out what. Perhaps there’ll be word when my squadrons return this afternoon, sir.”
“I hope so, Commander,” said General Maranta, his tone cold. “I hope you find them and that your faith in them is justified.” He started to turn away. “Now if there is nothing more—”
“There is, sir.” Kang cleared his throat. “I was just informed that there is a Wing of Dark Knights not far from here. I was thinking that we could send a messenger to the Dark Knights asking for their aid in battling the goblins, sir.”
“Out of the question,” said General Maranta shortly. “I wouldn’t ask a human for help if I was falling off a cliff and his was the only hand that could save me.”
“I know how you feel, sir, believe me,” said Kang, “but I’ve had some dealings with the Dark Knights and I think that they—”
“The answer is no, Commander,” said General Maranta, his red eyes glinting. “You are dis—”
A commotion at the front of the tent distracted the general. He turned to look, as did Kang and everyone else. Two of the Queen’s Own came inside, carrying one of their comrades. The sivak sagged in their arms. He looked ill and dizzy, his feet dragged. He was not wearing his tabard.
“Is that Corak?” General Maranta stared at the sivak. “What is wrong with him? What happened?”
“He was beaten and robbed, sir. A couple of bozaks found him in the alley behind Signal Regiment’s latrine.”
“Who did this to you, Corak?” General Maranta demanded.
The sivak shook his head weakly. He made a sort of croaking sound.
“He doesn’t remember anything about the attack, sir. All he remembers is that he was taking a requisition to the armaments. He doesn’t remember anything after that.”
“What did the thieves steal from him?”
“The requisition, sir. That and his tabard. I spoke to the quartermaster. He said that shortly before lunch, two sivaks arrived with a requisition for twenty swords. One of them wore the tabard of the Queen’s Own.”
“Yes, I gave Corak that requisition,” the general said, mystified. “Did the quartermaster fill it?”
“He had no reason not to, sir. Yes, he filled it. The two sivaks left carrying the box of broadswords. He did think that was odd, sir, but they said that they were following your orders and he didn’t want to question them.”
“Strange, very strange.” General Maranta eyed Kang. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. Not until you and your draconians arrived.”
Kang stiffened at the insult, so angry he could barely contain himsel
f. He remained in control, though he allowed his perfectly justifiable anger to be heard.
“Sir,” he said, his voice grating, “my men do not steal. And may I remind the general that every one of my troops has been out of the fort the entire day searching for our missing men with the exception of myself and two bozak draconians left to guard the females. Commander Prokel will testify to this, sir.”
“These were sivaks, sir,” said one of the Queen’s Own. “The quartermaster was sure about that. He also thought they looked familiar. He’s seen them about here before.”
“None of my sivaks have been anywhere near the arms warehouse, sir,” Kang stated.
“Well, well,” said General Maranta and he cast a sidelong, conciliatory glance at Kang. “Perhaps I was mistaken, Commander. You can understand my initial reaction.”
“Yes, sir,” said Kang, which was all he could say.
“We must work to clear up this mystery. I want a complete search of all living quarters, shops, stalls, warehouses. Twenty swords will be difficult to conceal. You will have no objection if we search your troops’ quarters, Commander?”
“Certainly not, sir,” said Kang. “So long as everyone in the fort is searched.”
“They will be,” said General Maranta dryly. “Thoroughly. Dismissed, all of you.” He waved his hand at the injured Queen’s Own. “Take this man to the healers.”
* * * * *
That night, Kang sat alone in his tent. He had a great many things he was supposed to be doing, but he did none of them. All squadrons had returned and reported in. No sign of the missing men. He would have no choice. He would have to list them as deserters. His only small amount of grim satisfaction came from the fact that the Queen’s Own had made a thorough search of the half-completed barracks and had not turned up the missing swords. They had even insisted on searching the females’ barracks, although Kang pointed out that they had been locked inside all day, with their own guard to keep watch over them.
The females stood for the inspection, each at the end of her bunk. The Queen’s Own did a thorough job, though they must have felt there was little likelihood of success. They did not appear surprised that they found nothing and even apologized to Fonrar for the intrusion.
Fonrar had wanted to know what was going on, what they were searching for, but Kang was too upset to talk to her. He was too upset to talk to anyone. He sat in the dark, going over and over in his mind the few clues he had regarding the disappearance of his troops.
A knock came on the tent pole.
“Leave me alone,” Kang muttered.
“Commander Vertax to see you, sir,” said Granak in apology.
Vertax entered. Kang lurched to his feet, fumbled to light a lamp and find another chair. “Sorry, Commander. I—”
Vertax was sympathetic. “Don’t apologize. I know how you feel. I lost a couple of mine a few days ago. Good men, too. I wouldn’t have thought they had it in them to run. But you never know what will drive someone over the wall.”
Kang sat in silence.
“But that isn’t why I’ve come.” Vertax made himself comfortable. “General Maranta likes your idea.”
“My idea, sir?” Kang asked, puzzled. “Which idea was that?”
“Your idea about sending a message for help to the Knights of Takhisis.”
Kang’s jaw dropped. General Maranta had so thoroughly discounted that idea that Kang had forgotten all about it. “But … this afternoon. He wouldn’t even consider …”
Vertax shrugged, smiled. “The Old Man’s like that. You’ll learn his ways after you’ve been here long enough. He’s quick to make up his mind, that’s true. But he’s not afraid to admit when he’s been wrong. He’s been considering this plan of yours and, although he doesn’t like going to the humans for help, he thinks that it may be our only alternative. As he says”—Vertax grinned—“he likes the notion of humans dying to save our hides for a change.”
“I’m pleased, naturally,” Kang replied in some confusion.
“Good!” Vertax rose from his chair. “You’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“Me?” Kang was astonished. “But I’m … I’m an engineer. He should send … an infantry officer—yourself, sir …”
“General Maranta wants you, Kang,” said Vertax. “You’ve had dealings with these Dark Knights before. You know how to talk to them, what to say. He thinks you’re the best man for the job.”
“I’m glad the general has confidence in me, but I have too much to do to leave. There’s these missing men. The troops have our living quarters to finish building. I need to make an inspection of the fort to determine what repairs—”
“Your second-in-command can do that,” said Vertax. He looked at Kang gravely. “You have your orders, Commander.”
There wasn’t much to say in answer to that and Kang said it.
“I guess I’m going.” He shrugged.
“Good. I’ll tell the general. Do you require an escort?”
“I have my own bodyguard, sir.”
“Requisition any weapons and supplies you’ll need for the road.”
Kang said he would and stood up to shake hands. “Speaking of requisitions, did those missing swords ever show up?”
“Not to my knowledge,” said Vertax. “The Queen’s Own turned the fort inside out. General Maranta’s hopping mad. He even sent men down into the latrines.”
Kang shook his head. “I’m thankful I didn’t have that job.”
“You and me both!” Vertax laughed, and departed.
* * * * *
“Hoist it up,” said Fonrar, peering down into the slit trench. “Carefully, carefully, steady now …”
The baaz had tied ropes around the box to lower it. They were now hauling on the ropes to drag the box up from the females’ latrine. Fonrar had meant to leave the stolen swords down there, but having heard from Cresel that the Queen’s Own had ordered all latrines to be searched, the females panicked, all except Thesik, who said that no one would search theirs. No one would think of it. As it was, there was nothing Fonrar could do. She didn’t dare bring the box up while it was still daylight.
Thesik proved to be right. Apparently, no one remembered that the females had their own separate latrine. They might well remember by morning, however. That night, Fonrar ordered the box removed. The swords were distributed, one by one.
“Hide them beneath the mattresses,” Thesik suggested.
“But that’s the first place they’ll look,” Fonrar protested.
“Exactly. It’s the first place they did look. They searched our bunks already. This is perfect.”
“I suppose,” Fonrar said.
“Come on. Cheer up! Twenty swords! This is what you’ve always wanted.”
“Do you realize what kind of trouble the commander could get into, Thes?” Fonrar said miserably. “He’d take the blame. He always does. The general might even court-martial him!”
“I told you she’d complain!” Hanra said in an undertone to her sister. “We can’t do anything right!”
“No one’s going to find out. You’ll see,” Thesik said confidently. “And now you have real swords for drill tomorrow.”
“What do we do with the box, Fon?” asked one of the baaz.
“Break it up—quietly! We’ll hide the slats in with the slats of the bunks.”
“Phew! It stinks!” protested a bozak.
“Look at this way, now the men won’t say we smell different!” Thesik said.
“Here, ma’am,” said Riel, presenting Fonrar with a sword. “You have the first one.”
The barracks were dark. The females didn’t dare risk a light. The lambent light of the stars formed silver slit-shaped patches on the floor. The argent light ran like quicksilver down the length of the fine blade. Fonrar wrapped her hand around the hilt. It seemed to have been made for her.
“It is beautiful, isn’t it, Thes?” Fonrar said softly.
“Beautiful,” Thesik agreed.
Kang and his small escort force consisting of Granak and two baaz left the fortress before dawn, slipping out in the half-light, hoping to avoid goblin patrols. They had no trail to follow, but Kang and his men made good time through the canyon, running easily across the flat, rock-strewn ground. A ridge of ancient mountains cut across their path. The once-jagged peaks were rounded, like worn-down teeth, and covered with scrawny pine trees and a jumble of bushes that appeared to thrive in crevices. No pass led through the mountains. Humans would have found the going difficult. Kang and his men used their wings to carry them over deep fissures and rock falls, lift them up out of cul-de-sacs.
Topping a ridge, Kang paused to catch his breath. Granak tapped him on the shoulder.
“Look there, sir.”
Kang looked. An enormous brown blob was crawling slowly across the landscape far to the east. At first he thought he was seeing a large herd of animals—bison, perhaps, or antelope. And then he understood. Goblins. Thousands more goblins, coming to join the already vast goblin army.
Kang shook his head. There wasn’t much to say that hadn’t already been said. But the draconians did run a bit faster.
The trip over the mountains cost them a day’s hard labor and everyone was glad to rest when night came. They camped out in a slit between two jagged outcroppings, lit no fire, kept two men on watch. They were up before the dawn, came down out of the mountains to find themselves on a sea of tall, rolling grass whose rippling waves lapped against a shoreline of thick forest. Slith’s map showed the Knights’ keep north and east of their present location. The draconians continued on.
About noon, clouds rolled in and a light, chill rain began to fall. Reaching the forest, they searched out animal trails leading in the general direction they wanted to go.
“You’ve noted we’re being followed, sir?” Granak asked in low tones when they stopped to drink at a stream.
“I’ve seen them,” said Kang.
He had detected the scent of horses and humans about an hour past and guessed that he and his guards were being observed by a squadron of light cavalry. This gave him his first indication that he was near his objective, heading in the right direction. The cavalry was on his left flank. They took care to keep out of arrow range, but they made no secret of their presence. He could occasionally see one of them moving through the trees. He could hear the clank of armor, the jingle of harness, the crack of a branch snapped by a horse’s hoof.