Draconian Measures

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Draconian Measures Page 19

by Don Perrin


  “What?” Kang halted, amazed. “How? Who? Where did they come from?”

  “I’ll fill you in later, sir,” said Slith. He nodded at Huzzad, limp in Granak’s arms. Draconians were gathering around to stare. “You better take care of her.”

  “Oh, yeah, right,” said Kang and made his way to the female’s barracks.

  * * * * *

  “Commander’s coming!” reported the baaz female who was standing look-out at the window. “And Granak. He’s carrying something in his arms.”

  Fonrar ended sword drill in mid-thrust. “Put those weapons away!” she ordered. “Hurry up there! Douse that fire!” she added irritably to a spell-casting bozak.

  “Sorry, Fon,” the bozak said guiltily, stamping out the flaring sparks with her foot. “I didn’t mean for the magic to work.”

  After a flurry of activity, the swords were all hidden away inside mattresses. The sparks were put out. A few of the baaz grabbed brooms and began industriously sweeping the floor of their barracks. Some of the others laid down on their beds.

  Shanra gave a nervous giggle. “I wonder what he’s bringing us. A present, maybe?”

  “I hope it’s another juicy kender,” said Hanra. “They’re starting to serve the most awful slop in the mess hall. They say it’s because the men can’t go out hunting—”

  Cresel knocked on the door. “Commander,” he said and paused just long enough to give the females time to quit doing whatever it was they might be doing that would almost certainly get him into trouble.

  “Please come in, Commander,” Fonrar said, opening the door herself.

  Behind her, she heard the females jumping to their feet, scrambling to form ranks.

  “Fonrar,” Kang greeted her formally, stepped inside. “Girls.” He nodded awkwardly at the others.

  At Fonrar’s command, the females saluted, rather belatedly. Twenty pairs of eyes were focused not on Kang but on the thing Granak was carrying.

  “A human,” Hanra growled out of the side of her mouth.

  “A female human,” Shanra growled back.

  Kang acknowledged their salutes with a nod of his head. Moving to one of the beds—it happened to be Fonrar’s—he ordered Granak to place the human female down on the bed with gentle tenderness.

  Kang fussed over Huzzad, making her comfortable, telling the females to bring him blankets, arranging them around her carefully.

  He lifted his head to give further orders and confronted twenty pair of eyes staring at him. The eyes were disapproving, if not downright hostile.

  Kang was considerably taken aback. The females were obviously angry. He couldn’t imagine what he had done to so infuriate them.

  “Who is this, Commander?” Fonrar asked coldly.

  “Her—her name is Huzzad,” Kang said, rattled. “She’s a Knight of Takhisis, a valiant warrior. She saved my life.”

  “What happened, sir?” Fonrar asked fearfully, her anger melting with her concern. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, fine!” Kang said, waving his hand. He was eager to leave this burden to others, eager to hear Slith’s report. “She was hurt in the battle. I was thinking that you females might take care of her.”

  “She saved your life, sir?” Fonrar asked softly.

  “Yes, she saved my life,” Kang said, striving to be patient. “And the lives of Granak and the others.”

  Fonrar sighed deeply. “We’ll take care of her, sir. Don’t worry.”

  “Excellent,” said Kang, mystified. “That’s fine.” He paused a moment. He knew that something was wrong, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it was.

  None of the females said anything more. Thesik was gazing sadly at Fonrar. Hanra and Shanra were glaring at him irately, but that was preferable to Fonrar, who refused to look at him.

  “I … have to go now,” said Kang. Baffled, unable to comprehend what he’d done to upset them, he started for the door.

  “Sir,” Fonrar said wistfully, as he was leaving, “do you like her? The human female?”

  “Like her?” Kang repeated. “Of course, I like her. She’s an old friend. I knew her back when we worked for the Dark Knights.”

  “That’s not what she means, sir,” said Thesik. “She means do you ‘love’ her, sir.” Thesik spoke the word in Common. The word did not exist in draconian.

  “Love?” Kang repeated. If those twenty pair of eyes had been twenty goblin spears aimed right at his heart, he would not have felt more helpless than he did at this moment. “What is this nonsense?”

  “We heard some of the guards talking, sir,” said Thesik, seeing that Fonrar was too upset to respond. “About how they loved human females.”

  “Better than us, sir,” Shanra added, pouting.

  At this juncture, Kang would have preferred the twenty goblin spears. “I don’t have time to explain right now,” he said, his voice harsh to cover his embarrassment. “But, no, I don’t … er … like her that way. She’s human. She’s squishy and lumpy.” He looked back at them blankly. “What more can I say?”

  “Nothing, sir,” Fonrar said, smiling. “Nothing at all. We’ll take good care of her, sir. You can rely on us.”

  “I hope you will,” said Kang sternly.

  But he had the feeling his sternness was lost on them. The females were grinning and nudging each other. He heard Hanra giggle.

  “It’s good to have you back safely, sir,” Fonrar said.

  “Thank you,” said Kang. He departed in haste and utter confusion.

  The twenty females gathered around the bed, stared down at Huzzad.

  “Squishy,” said Thesik, prodding the human with a clawed finger.

  “And lumpy,” said Fonrar happily.

  “You are telling me that it is the Knights of Takhisis, our allies, who have hired the goblin army, trained them, equipped them and sent them to destroy us?” General Maranta stared, narrow-eyed, at Kang. “All due to the fact that you have discovered female draconians.”

  “So it would appear, sir,” said Kang. He was dead tired, stupid with weariness, and yet he had to keep his wits sharp to hold his own with General Maranta’s verbal sparring.

  “So we would not be preparing for war against the goblins if we had not taken in you and your cursed females.” General Maranta held up a hand that glistened with a golden sheen. “I’m not saying that we should have abandoned you and your troops, Commander. I just want you to consider what you owe us.”

  “I do, sir,” Kang replied. “My troops are already working to strengthen the fort. We will defend it to the end, to last drop of blood. But may I say, sir, that although our destruction was the Knight’s primary objective, the destruction of this fort was next. Talon Commander Huzzad told us that you and the forces under your command have long been worrisome to the Dark Knights.”

  “Because I operate outside their control. Because I lead an army of skilled soldiers, born and bred for battle.” General Maranta nodded sagely. “It is only right that they fear me.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Kang.

  “And our numbers are growing. I suppose you heard about the new contingent of draconians who arrived. They won’t be the last. I’m convinced of it.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Kang, too tired to make sense of this.

  “Thank you for the information, Commander,” General Maranta said, rubbing his hands together with a smile, his good humor restored. “And for bringing back this human prisoner. I look forward to interrogating her. Good looking, is she?”

  “She is not a prisoner, sir,” Kang returned. “She is my friend. She saved our lives. We owe her respect and honor, sir.”

  “She is a human, Commander.” General Maranta eyed Kang, then said crossly, “Oh, very well. I am too busy to enjoy her. Keep her for yourself, if you like—”

  “Sir!” Kang began a shocked protest.

  General Maranta cut him off. “Return to your duties, Commander. We will defend you and your females. We will defeat this goblin ar
my and give the Dark Knights even more to fear.” General Maranta waggled a finger. “But no more talk of you leaving us, Kang. We saved your lives. You owe us those lives.” General Maranta rose to his feet. “There will be no further talk of your leaving for this city of yours. Your place is here, Commander Kang. And here you will stay.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Kang.

  * * * * *

  “You told him we’d stay?” Slith said, so amazed that he actually paused in the act of shoveling the last of the goat meat into his mouth. “But, sir—”

  “It doesn’t matter, Slith,” Kang said. He was too tired to eat. All he wanted was sleep and he had duties to perform before he allowed himself that luxury. He shoved his half-full plate aside. “We can’t defeat the goblin army. We can hold out for a week, maybe longer, but in the end—” He shook his head. “What we have to do now is to figure out how to save the females—What is it? Why are you shaking your head?”

  Kang had to wait for Slith to swallow a mouthful.

  “I’m not so sure, sir. You know I mentioned that more draconians had turned up.”

  “Yes, that’s right. What about them? How many? Ten, twenty?”

  “Five hundred, sir,” said Slith, grinning, enjoying his commander’s surprised reaction.

  “Five hundred! Where’d they come from? How did they get through the goblin lines?”

  “Good question, sir,” said Slith. “They marched in the morning after you left, sir. General Maranta was on hand to welcome them. Made a speech and everything. Next thing I know, Prokel comes along and asks if we could use some help. I say ‘sure’ and he hands me a whole damned company of these new troops.”

  Slith finished his goat. Kang silently shoved his plate across to his second. Slith ate his commander’s meal, relating his story between mouthfuls.

  “I assigned them to Fulkth’s squadron, who were detailed to bolster the ramparts. Later that day, Fulkth comes to me with a complaint. ‘It’s those new dracos,’ he says. ‘What about them?’ I say. ‘Are they insubordinate? Giving you trouble?’ ‘Oh, no!’ says Fulkth. And he gets this strange expression. ‘I almost wish they were. You better come see for yourself, sir.’

  “So I take a look. Our men are working like gnomes with their pants on fire, hammering and sawing and lifting planks into place. I find these dracos just standing there, doing nothing. I’m ready to thump a few heads, when Fulkth stops me. ‘Watch this,’ he says. He goes over to one of them. ‘Hammer these nails into this wall,’ he says. The draco picks up the nail and he picks up the hammer and he hammers like there’s no tomorrow. Then, when that’s done and there isn’t a unhammered nail left in sight, he quits. He goes back to just standing there.’ ”

  Kang massaged his aching neck. “As I understand it, these draconians obey orders and you and Fulkth think there’s something wrong with them?”

  “It’s not that, sir,” Slith argued. “You see, there was no reason to hammer those nails into that wall. The draco did it because he was ordered to do it. He didn’t ask what he was doing, which was nothing useful. He didn’t look at us like we were nincompoops.” Slith dropped his spoon onto his plate, leaned over the table. “It’s that way with all of these new dracos. I think that if Fulkth ordered them to hammer those nails into each other’s heads, they would do it.”

  “So we have troops who respect their officers.” Kang grunted. “Might be a welcome change.”

  Slith shook his head. “You have to see these guys, Commander. There’s something strange about them. They don’t even look like draconians.”

  “Hunh?” Kang blinked.

  “Oh, they’re draconians,” Slith hastened to assure his commander. “There’s no doubt about that.” He paused, tried to come up with an example of what he meant. “You know the other day when you were polishing your battle-axe to such an extent that you damn near rubbed a hole in it? Well, that’s what they look like. Like someone’s taken a cloth to them and rubbed all their features until they’re sort of blurry and dull-looking.”

  “Blurry draconians,” said Kang. He heaved himself up from the table. “That does it. I’m going to bed. By the way, where did they come from?”

  “They say they come from the Khalkist Mountain region, sir,” Slith answered.

  “Well, that makes sense,” Kang said. “The Khalkists aren’t that far from here.”

  “Yes, but when you ask them where in the Khalkists, they only say ‘the Khalkists.’ ”

  Kang waved a hand. “I’m too tired to deal with this now. Anything else happen that I should know about?”

  “No, sir,” said Slith. “All progressing smoothly. Except that the scouts report that the goblin army is up to twenty-five thousand.”

  “Fine,” said Kang, heading for the barracks. “If they show up, wake me. If not, don’t.”

  “Yes, sir.” Slith grinned, and went to see if he couldn’t wheedle more food out of the cook.

  * * * * *

  Kang slept through all of the next day, all of the following night. The growling of his stomach woke him or he might have been asleep yet. After breakfast, he reviewed the repair work on the fort, found all proceeding well. At Slith’s insistence, Kang observed the new troops and although he thought them rather slow and stupid, what else could one expect from draconians that had been skulking about the mountains for years in total isolation?

  “If it hadn’t been for us having to keep our wits sharpened to constantly battle those blasted dwarves,” Kang said, “we might have ended up just like that.”

  “If you say so, sir.” Slith was obviously not convinced.

  Scout reports indicated that the size of the goblin army continued to grow. The goblins continued to train and exercise. Roving patrols had begun picking off any draconians who dared set foot outside the fort. Several scouts had not returned and now no one was allowed to leave the fort, including hunting parties. Kang waited all day for General Maranta to call a meeting of his officers to discuss the worsening situation, but the call didn’t come.

  Huzzad improved rapidly under the care of the female draconians. So rapidly that Kang was astonished.

  That night, after dinner, Huzzad came wandering into the Common Room area where the draconians were relaxing after their labors. Kang and Slith invited her to join them for a private drink in Kang’s quarters. Here, Slith introduced her to his special cactus brew. Huzzad was approving.

  “Tastes better than dwarf spirits,” she said. “But then so does horse piss.”

  She asked about the goblins. Kang gave her the latest scouting report.

  “Twenty-five thousand!” Huzzad gave a low whistle. “Even for you dracos, the odds are little steep, aren’t they?”

  “Naw,” said Slith. “Just starts to make things interesting.”

  “Yes, very interesting,” Kang said dryly. “Much too interesting, if you ask me.”

  “And how does your general propose to deal with this?” Huzzad asked.

  “He hasn’t chosen to share that piece of information with us, as yet,” Kang responded. “More cactus spirits?” He reached for the jug.

  Huzzad held out her mug. Kang filled hers, filled his own. Slith had just topped his. While the three drank in silence, Kang eyed Huzzad’s injuries. The cut on her head had almost completely closed. He could see only a white scar, looking like a streak of white lightning against her sun-browned skin.

  “Are all humans such fast healers?” Kang asked.

  “We would be if we had your kapaks around,” Huzzad replied.

  “What do you mean?” Kang was puzzled.

  “You know. Their saliva. I have to admit it was a good thing I was unconscious, or I would have fought like three kobolds with their tails tied together before I let one of your dracos lick me, but it worked.”

  “Licked you!” Horrified, Kang was on his feet. “Huzzad—a kapak’s saliva is poison! We have to do something.” He looked at Slith, who shook his head gloomily.

  “Nothing to do, sir.
There’s no antidote that I know of. She ought to be dead by now, in fact.”

  Huzzad was looking from one to the other in wonder. “You mean, you really didn’t know?”

  “Know what?” Kang asked uneasily.

  “That the saliva of female kapaks isn’t poison. On the contrary, it appears to have healing properties.”

  Kang and Slith both stared at her.

  “You didn’t know.” Huzzad shook her head. “I’ll be damned. I’ve been around men who were dumb about women, but you boys beat anything.”

  “It’s just … well, I never thought about it.”

  Kang took a deep drink. He wondered what else he didn’t know about the females. He was afraid to ask Huzzad, afraid she might tell him. He decided it was time to change the subject.

  “Huzzad, Groupcommander Zeck said he had reports on this fort. Do you know what those reports entailed?”

  “The usual: troop strength, fortifications, availability of food, water, and”—Huzzad added pointedly—“information on your general.”

  “Make sure that door’s shut. What sort of information?” Kang asked.

  Slith tested the latch, refilled their mugs all around. The two draconians hunched forward, eager and interested.

  “When the Knights found out General Maranta was the one in command here,” Huzzad said in a low voice, “the groupcommander wanted information on him. I saw the report. It was circulated among the officers. Did you know that General Maranta never once held a field command? He never led troops in battle?” She lowered her voice still further. “He was never even involved in a battle, in fact.”

  “Wasn’t he in Neraka at the fall?” Slith asked.

  Huzzad shrugged. “You might say that. If you count being in the tunnels underneath the city. He and the Queen’s Own had their escape neatly planned. The minute things started to go wrong, they left. Some say to this day that if General Maranta and the Queen’s Own had stayed, they would have prevented the destruction, saved the day for Her Dark Majesty. I doubt it, though. Not enough of them to really make a difference. It doesn’t matter now, of course. What does matter is that if General Maranta fights this battle, it will be his first.”

 

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