by Don Perrin
The trail led out of the forest and onto a man-made road cut through the trees. The road was hard-packed dirt and some care had been taken to maintain it. Ruts from wagon wheels, hoof prints and foot prints were further indications that the road was heavily trafficked, convincing Kang that this road led to his destination. The draconians had followed the road for only about a mile when their way was blocked by a mounted patrol of six soldiers. They wore oiled canvas capes against the rain. The folds of the capes fell partially across their swords, leaving enough metal showing to make certain the interlopers saw that the patrol was well armed.
Kang brought his party to a halt.
The patrol leader rode forward. His horse, unaccustomed to the scent of the draconians, balked, shied. Kang remembered a time when mounted warriors of the Dark Queen trained their horses to remain calm around draconians. This young officer had not even been born then.
The officer was evidently a good horseman. He was understanding about his horse’s fright, not flustered or embarrassed. Summoning an aide to hold the horse, the officer dismounted and approached Kang on foot.
Kang advanced, the tall, imposing Granak solid at his back.
“This road is under the jurisdiction of the Knights of Takhisis,” said the young human, speaking Common. “Please state the nature of your business in our territory.”
“Kang, commander, First Dragonarmy Engineers. I’m on my way to see your commander,” Kang replied.
The officer looked skeptical. “First Dragon … army, sir?”
Kang chuckled, although he felt a pang of regret. How quickly they were forgotten. “First Dragonarmy. It was formed during the War of the Lance and was long gone by the time you were born. But our regiment was never disbanded, so we’ve never dropped the name. It’s a name we’re proud of,” he added.
The officer studied Kang, then drew himself up, saluted. “Yes, sir. Can you state the nature of your business with our commander, sir?”
“I’d rather not,” Kang said. “I don’t have the authority. I’m acting under orders from my superior officer.”
“Very well, sir, I will send a rider ahead to notify the Division Headquarters of your coming.”
Kang nodded. The officer called out a soldier, gave him the message. The cavalryman galloped off down the road.
Kang exchanged glances with Granak. The general had guessed there was a Wing of Dark Knights here, not an entire division. The Dark Knights must be the dominating force in this part of the world. Humans have no love for goblins and they would not be pleased to hear of a large force of goblins massing nearby. An entire division! Between the Dark Knights and the draconians, they should be able to destroy the goblin army with relative ease. Especially if these Knights had dragons.
“So my men and I must be the first draconians you’ve ever met,” Kang said to the young officer as they proceeded up the road together.
“Yes, sir, you are,” said the young officer.
Kang sighed.
* * * * *
The chill rain strengthened to a downpour by the time they reached the keep, shortly after dusk. The keep was not pretty to look at. A hulking gray slab of stone, wood and mortar, surrounded by a moat, the keep stood on the highest promontory for miles about, overlooking a river landing below and guarding a pass beyond. Kang approved both the construction and the location.
Kang, his bodyguard, and his cavalry escort marched through the outer dirt ramparts that were the keep’s first line of defense. Here, the young officer saluted Kang, who saluted him in the manner taught to him so many years ago in the dragonarmies.
“Good luck, sir,” the young officer said.
He remounted his horse, who had by this time become somewhat reconciled to the draconians, though the beast still watched Kang with a suspicious eye and was obviously not sorry to depart. The cavalry troop wheeled in unison and galloped down the road. Kang watched, admiring the precision of their moves, then turned and proceeded on.
A wet and shivering sentry halted them at the drawbridge. The cold and pelting rain had little effect on the draconians, whose body temperature lowered to accommodate the chill. The water slid off their shining scales.
Kang gave his name and rank. The sentry nodded. Rain washed off his helmet and trickled into his eyes. He blinked the water away. “They’re waiting for you, sir, in the keep. You can go on ahead. Someone will meet you on the other side of the drawbridge.”
The soldier saluted again. Kang returned the salute and walked across the drawbridge, Granak and the two baaz trudging stolidly behind. Below, the brown water of the moat rippled as sheets of rain swept across it.
The draconians entered a tunnel that passed through the keep’s outer ring wall, twenty feet thick at the base, and guarded by a portcullis at each end. Walking along the dark, rain-damp tunnel, Kang noted the murder holes set in the walls, so-called because during an attack on the keep, archers would be stationed on either side of the tunnel, ready to catch the enemy in deadly cross fire. Kang’s skin twitched and his scales clicked nervously at the thought.
Leaving the ring-wall, Kang entered an open courtyard. An officer in a black tabard stood silently, waiting for the draconians. His tabard was soaked through. Rain poured down his face, yet he stood still and unmoving. He waited until Kang took his first step onto the stones of the courtyard, then brought his hand up in salute.
“Sir, I am Wing Commander Vosird of the First Wing, Wolf’s Talon Division. I am to escort you directly to Groupcommander Zeck. He commands here.”
Kang nodded, said nothing. The wing commander waited a moment, eyeing Kang, thinking that perhaps he might feel called upon to state his business. Kang did not and the wing commander had no authority to question him. The wing commander, looking slightly annoyed, turned and marched toward the main building of the keep. Kang looked back at his bodyguard, shrugged, then followed. The four draconians grinned and marched after their commander.
They entered a wooden door that was a foot thick. Guards were posted here and at the entrances to the outbuildings. A garrison troop stood on the ramparts. It was an impressive show of force for a keep located in the middle of a relatively peaceful region ruled by an army that wasn’t at war with anyone.
The wing commander escorted Kang and his party inside the central building, along a series of hallways. They were passing through these corridors when they encountered a group of black-armored and helmeted Knights. The Knights stepped aside to allow them to pass. All stared at the draconians before continuing on with their duties. Kang would not have taken particular note of any of this except that one Knight in particular stared at Kang so intently that the Knight almost walked into a stone pillar. The Knight was hooded and cloaked against the rain, so that Kang could make out nothing of the man, but he had the oddest impression that something about the Knight was familiar and that the Knight also seemed to recognize Kang.
By now they had reached their destination—another closed door. Here Kang’s two bodyguards were asked to follow two of the guards, who would take them to their quarters. The draconians looked to Kang, who nodded, and the two obeyed. Kang and Granak continued on to the manorial hall, but before he left the hallway, Kang glanced back. The hooded Knight was still standing there, still staring at him. And then the door opened, they were being ushered inside, and Kang lost sight of the Knight.
Kang was introduced to Groupcommander Zeck and his officers and in the flurry of salutes, returning salutes and introductions, Kang forgot about the strangely familiar Knight.
Groupcommander Zeck offered refreshments for the visiting officers.
“Wine, ale? Or perhaps dwarf spirits?” The groupcommander smiled.
He was an older man and he had worked with draconians before, he told them. He apparently knew of their weakness for this particular fiery liquor.
“No, thank you, sir,” said Kang, who wanted a clear head for this encounter. “We have traveled long and hard to reach you. The matter is of the utmost
urgency.”
“Of course, Commander,” said Groupcommander Zeck gravely. “I am all attention. Please state the reason for your visit.”
Kang had gone over what he planned to say a thousand times while on the road, but being inside this impressive keep and in the presence of these high-ranking human officers, wearing their shining black, superbly crafted armor, momentarily confused him. Kang had been raised to think humans were only slightly lower than gods. Years of human blunders and failings had at last disabused him of that notion. He was astonished and somewhat amused to find a residue of the old adoration still lingered.
“Groupcommander Zeck, my commander, General Maranta sends his kindest regards, and wishes you and your command every success on or off the battlefield.”
“Maranta,” Groupcommander Zeck repeated, amazed. “You don’t mean the General Maranta? The aurak?”
“Yes, sir, that’s the one.”
“I didn’t even know he was still alive. Well, well.” Groupcommander Zeck glanced around at his officers. Some of the older ones looked impressed, the younger ones blank. “What’s he doing these days?”
Kang explained, gave the location of the fort of draconians and concluded by saying, “We need your help, sir. We need it badly. Our force of five thousand warriors is penned up in the fortress. We are besieged by an army of what we believe may be as many as twenty to thirty thousand goblins and hobgoblins. For reasons we are as of yet unable to fathom, they are bent on our destruction. We think that perhaps they are in the pay of the cursed Knights of Solamnia.”
Groupcommander Zeck frowned. “Solamnics, is it? I wouldn’t put it past them. What smattering of honor they once had is gone with their wretched coward of a god. I am familiar with your fortress out in the foothills. I didn’t know General Maranta was in charge, however, or I might have dropped by for a chat about old times. Goblins and hobgoblins, you say. Interesting. Seems damned improper for former allies to turn on you, doesn’t it, Commander?”
Kang agreed that it did seem most improper.
“And you’re here for our help?” Groupcommander Zeck asked.
“Yes, sir. Although we draconians and the Knights of Takhisis no longer work together in a combined army, my General has asked me to request that you come to our aid. In return, we offer diplomatic ties and the strong friendship of our race.”
Groupcommander Zeck appeared impressed. “Your numbers are small, to be sure, but the history of the draconian race is rife with glory. We certainly would not want to lose such a staunch ally.” The groupcommander turned to a waiting orderly.
“Dagot, I want you to have the Second and Third Wings prepared to ride out to do battle with the goblins in two days.” He turned his attention back to Kang. “Is that satisfactory, Commander?”
Kang had expected the groupcommander to take the request under advisement, ask for several days to study the situation, promise to send General Maranta an answer within a week if they were lucky. He had not expected to have the matter settled in three minutes.
“Yes, sir,” Kang said, recovering himself. “Most satisfactory.”
“Excellent. Then our business is concluded. I would ask you to dine with us, but you are no doubt tired from your long journey. May I offer you and your companion officer a room for the night, supper and a hearty breakfast before you set out tomorrow?”
Kang’s first inclination was to get back on the road immediately, to return to his command. Then he thought of his men. He’d pushed them hard, he’d pushed himself hard. They would all travel faster on the morrow for hot food in their bellies and a good night’s sleep.
“Yes, sir. I would appreciate that. We will be on the road in the morning. I look forward to meeting your warriors and officers on the field of battle.”
Groupcommander Zeck nodded. “So it shall be.” He turned away. The interview was at an end.
Wing Commander Vosiard, who had stood silently during this meeting, escorted Kang and Granak from the manorial hall, led them along a back corridor that was lined with doors. Halfway down the corridor, he opened a door, indicated a room with two beds—human-sized—and a table with a wash bowl and a pitcher of water.
“I’ll have food sent up,” said Voisard.
“Where are my men being barracked?” Kang asked.
The wing commander motioned with his thumb to an adjacent room. “Right next door, sir.”
Kang dismissed the man, sat down on the bed, and gave a cavernous yawn.
“I’ll go check on the troopers, sir,” Granak offered.
Alone, Kang thought things over. Within twenty minutes of arriving at the keep, he had accomplished his goals. He didn’t have any idea why, but this fact made him uneasy. Perhaps it was because he was so used to things going wrong, particularly when dealing with humans.
“By the law of averages, it’s about time something went right,” Kang reflected. “It’s not surprising Groupcommander Zeck made such a quick decision. He knows about our fort, his scouts would have told him. And since he knows about our fort, he might know about this build-up of goblins in his territory. He’s probably not any happier about it than we are. Maybe he didn’t know why they were here or what they were doing. Now that we’ve told him, he’s going to act to get rid of them.”
Granak returned to report that the two baaz bodyguards had been well-fed and were already asleep. A human soldier brought a heaping platter of roast mutton to the room an hour later, along with a large jug of ale. Kang and Granak made short work of both. His belly full and his mind pleasantly fuzzy from the ale, Kang stretched out on the floor. He feared that if he lay down on the bed, he might smash it to kindling.
“If you want to sleep, sir, I’ll keep the first watch,” Granak offered, settling himself in a chair beside the door. “Did you notice? There’re no locks on these doors.”
Kang grunted. “I doubt if they’re much bothered by thieving. There’s no need to stand watch tonight, Granak. We’re either in a powerful friend’s camp, or a powerful enemy’s. There’s nothing we can do about anything they decide to do to us.”
“If it’s all the same, sir,” Granak said respectfully, “I’ll stand the first watch.”
Kang closed his eyes. “If you insist. Wake me for the second.”
* * * * *
Granak woke Kang, as promised.
“Anything to report?” Kang asked sleepily.
“No, sir. All quiet,” Granak said.
Kang nodded and took his place in a chair by the closed door. Granak stretched out on the floor and was soon asleep, to judge by his dish-rattling snores. Kang’s sleep had been uneasy. He was glad to have a chance to sit and think in solitude, if not silence. He was running over the groupcommander’s words in his mind, reassuring himself that all was well, when he thought he heard, outside the door, the creak of a floor board.
The sound was soft, stealthy. He might have been mistaken. Hard to tell over Granak’s snores. He recalled Granak’s warning about no locks on the door and his own glib reply. Cursing himself for a fool, Kang eased himself out of his chair. Under the cover of Granak’s rumbling, he crab-walked sideways, taking up a position that would put him behind the door if and when it opened.
Another crack of the wooden floorboard, this time accompanied by the creak of leather and the very soft jingle of harness. Outside, the rain was falling in torrents to judge by the drumming against the wall. A hand turned the door handle, gave the door a gentle shove inward. Kang crouched. A human entered the room, moving quietly on the balls of the feet. The human approached the slumbering form of Granak.
“Kang?” the human said, reaching out a hand.
Kang jumped, enveloping the human in his strong arms and covering the human’s mouth with his hand to prevent him yelling for help.
Granak was on his feet at the same instant, a knife in his hand, moving to the door.
Their captive struggled briefly, instinctively, perhaps, and then relaxed in Kang’s hold. The human was wrapped in
a cloak and soaking wet, as if he had just come from outdoors in the rain.
“Check the hall!” Kang whispered, holding fast to his prisoner.
Granak peered out the door. “Empty, sir,” he reported. Shutting the door, he put his back against it.
The human made some sounds, lips moving against Kang’s palm. He couldn’t tell for certain, but they sounded like, “Let me go, Kang! You bloody fool! It’s me!”
And then he knew her. Then he remembered.
“Huzzad!” He gasped, released her.
“Hush!” she said warningly, with a glance toward the door. Huzzad threw back the hood of her cloak and turned to face him. “You don’t know your own strength. I’ll be bruised for a week,” she added, rubbing her forearms and twisting her neck.
“Huzzad, I didn’t know—” Kang protested.
“You weren’t meant to,” she said crisply, cutting his apology short. “No harm done. I should have realized you wouldn’t be caught napping. You were smart to set a watch.”
“Granak’s idea,” Kang said, nodding to the large sivak. “You two haven’t met. Granak, this is Huzzad, Knight of Takhisis. Huzzad, Granak. Huzzad and I met during that brief time we worked for the Dark Knights.”
“I remember,” said Granak, growling. “Digging latrines.”
“If this is about our abrupt departure—” Kang began uneasily.
Huzzad shook her head. “You had every right to leave the Knights. You were treated shabbily. Not the first time. And it wasn’t the last time, Kang.”
Huzzad eyed him intently. He could see her as a warm-blooded entity in the darkness, brought her to mind as he had known her during the summer of the Chaos War. He saw her again on the back of her red dragon, a proud warrior. The two had become friends during their brief time together as allies. They had come to trust and respect each other.