by Don Perrin
Last they assembled the cage to hold the keg bombs, making the cage out of pine wood held together with twine. They could fit eight kegs filled with the explosive mash left over from the cactus juice in the chest area of the dragon. The kegs would be added at the last minute before the launch, due to the fact that they did not want the explosive kegs too near the fires while the dragon was still inside the fort.
Torches burned throughout the night. The draconian engineers did not sleep, but kept up their hammering and slathering, boiling and sewing. Slowly, inexorably, the Drunken Dragon began taking shape.
The females worked throughout the night cutting panels. The following morning, as they began sewing the panels together, Huzzad noted that they were missing two females—the sivak sisters, Hanra and Shanra. She said nothing, made no comment. She could guess where Hanra and Shanra had gone. The female bozaks required components to cast their magic spells. Although the females were now openly practicing sword drills, Huzzad and Thesik had opposed Fonrar’s decision to tell Kang that the females were using magic.
“We’re not lying to the commander,” Thesik had explained. “We’re just not telling him the whole truth all at once.”
“It’s like that brown goo,” Huzzad had said. “After you’ve managed to choke down the first bite, the rest isn’t all that bad. But we need to let him digest the first bite.”
Reluctantly, Fonrar had agreed with them.
By dawn of the next morning, the wings were assembled and Dremon’s troops were starting to mix the goo with the pulp. The frame of the body was halfway complete. The head was taking more time than had originally been calculated.
The rest of the draconians in the fort observed the dragon’s progress with a mixture of curiosity, amusement and—in the case of the Queen’s Own—disdain. The irate commander of the Ninth Infantry stomped over to angrily demand the return of his shed. This being impossible—the shed was now the dragon’s skeleton—the commander was provided with cactus juice by way of payment. Several mugs later, the commander offered them Ninth Infantry’s barracks in return for more cactus juice. Slith thanked him, but told him that they had all the pine wood they needed. The officer reluctantly and unsteadily departed.
As for the new draconians, those who had just arrived, they did what they were told, no more, no less.
Slith was growing more and more curious about these peculiar draconians and he decided that it might be entertaining as well as instructive to “pal around” with one of the new dracos for the day.
Leaving Gloth in charge of the distillery, Slith went in search of the new dracos, found one standing in front of a ladder, apparently waiting for someone to tell him what to do.
“Hey, you! Soldier!” Slith called.
The baaz turned his head. At the sight of an officer, the draconian snapped to attention, raising his hand to his forehead in salute and standing rigid.
It was fortunate he didn’t have a hammer in his saluting hand, Slith reflected. Otherwise he might have clonked himself on the head.
“Sir!” the baaz said, eyes forward.
“At ease,” Slith said with a friendly grin. “We don’t stand on ceremony around here. Relax, will you?”
The baaz continued to stand at attention. “You are my superior officer, sir. I am to stand at attention in the presence of a superior officer.”
“Not when the superior officer tells you to relax,” Slith said.
“Is that an order, sir?” the baaz asked.
Slith was bemused. “Yeah, that’s an order. Relax, soldier.”
“Yes, sir.” The baaz spread his feet, clasped his hands behind his back. “Relaxing, sir.”
“Cripes,” Slith muttered. “I hope the commander doesn’t see this. Look, Soldier,” he said aloud. “You shouldn’t be all spit and polish like this. For one, you make the rest of us look bad and, for two, you’ll unnerve the commander. Scare the hell outta him. Scares the hell outta me,” he added under his breath.
Slith looked at the baaz closely, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. Nothing at first glance. Every scale was in place. He had all his fingers and toes, regulation tail and wings. The eyes. There was something odd about the eyes. A kind of lost look, as if searching for something that had gone missing. Slith couldn’t make it out.
“What’s your name, Soldier?” Slith asked in friendly tones.
And damned if the baaz didn’t seem to have to stop to think about it.
“Drugo, sir,” he said, after a pause.
“Drugo. You sure about that?” Slith joked.
The baaz paused again, gave the matter more thought. “Yes, sir,” he said at last.
“Damn!” Slith muttered. “This bastard’s starting to creep me out. Very well, Drugo, I have to go pick up some stuff at the Quartermasters and I could use some help.”
Slith started to walk off.
“Yes, sir,” said Drugo, standing in place.
“Your help,” said Slith, glancing around.
“Yes, sir,” said Drugo and obediently fell into step alongside Slith.
Drugo was no conversationalist, as Slith discovered after bringing up several interesting and amusing subjects—battles fought, elves tortured, humans disemboweled. Drugo had nothing to say on any subject and so Slith eventually gave up and began concentrating on not getting lost. The two draconians plunged into the maze of crooked streets that wandered and meandered all around the fort. Slith had been to the Quartermaster’s before and had some vague notion of where it was located, but although he had gone exploring several times, he never went anywhere in this rat’s nest of a town but that he didn’t manage to take a couple of wrong turns before achieving his objective.
Then he noted that Drugo appeared to know exactly where he was going. Slith discovered this when he turned left at a crossroads and Drugo continued going straight.
“It’s this way,” said Slith.
“If you say so, sir,” said Drugo.
“Wait a minute.” Slith halted. “Do you think it’s the other way?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir,” said Drugo. “You are my superior officer.”
“Have you been to the Quartermaster’s before?” Slith asked.
“No, sir,” Drugo replied. “I am new in the fort. I don’t know my way around yet.”
“But you certainly looked as if you knew the way to go,” Slith said.
“If you say so, sir,” Drugo replied.
Slith kept a firm grip on himself, otherwise he would have gone for a firm grip on Drugo’s neck.
“We’ll try my way,” said Slith and, sure enough, after two more turns they were in a blank alley, brought to a halt by two sheds and the back side of the blacksmith’s forge.
Drugo said nothing, just stood there.
“Drugo,” said Slith. “Go to the Quartermaster’s. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” said Drugo and off he marched.
He led Slith straight to the Quartermaster’s.
“I’ll be damned,” said Slith.
* * * * *
Slith picked up the supplies, handing over a requisition that he’d written up himself with Kang’s forged signature, acting on the theory that the commander would have ordered the supplies if he had known that he needed them. Slith and Drugo headed back to the barracks, following a different route, by way of experiment. Sure enough, Drugo never missed a turn. They carried with them two boxes of gear and equipment, including twenty pair of fine quality leather bracers.
“A little present for the females,” Slith said, indicating the bracers.
Drugo made his customary laconic response of “Yes, sir.” Clearly he was not impressed.
Two female draconians, standing unnoticed nearby, heard Slith’s words about ‘presents’ and responded much more enthusiastically than the indifferent Drugo.
Shanra and Hanra were out on the town again, this time in search of spell components. Huzzad had told them to look for a building called “mage-ware” s
upply. They had found it, had handed over the requisition, which this time Huzzad had made out, forging Kang’s signature. Thesik had pointed out that the forgery didn’t look anything like Kang’s scrawling scribble, but Huzzad said that the mage-ware supply manager wouldn’t know the difference since he had never seen Kang’s signature and wouldn’t know it from Paladine’s and, indeed, that had proved to be the case.
Their packs stuffed full of bat guano, sand, and sulfur, the two were on their way back to their barracks when they happened to cross paths with Slith, accompanied by a baaz whose identity was unknown to them.
The two ducked into the shadows of an alley, where they could gaze at their hero adoringly.
It was at that moment that Slith, completely unconscious that he was being observed by the two females, made the remark about the bracers. The words “females” and “presents” carried clearly.
Shanra squealed, causing her shocked sister to grab hold of her and drag her farther down the alley.
“Shush! He’ll hear you!” Hanra scolded.
“Sorry,” Shanra returned meekly, then added, with an excited giggle, “Presents! He bought us presents!”
“He’s so wonderful.” Hanra sighed. “I wonder what they are?”
“Let’s follow and see if we can find out,” Shanra said.
The two slipped out of the alleyway, mingling with the draconians who were out in the streets in droves, going about the serious business of preparing the fort for war. The sivak sisters attempted to get within earshot of Slith and his companion, but the narrow streets were at times too crowded. Bumped, shoved and jostled, the two were never able to come close enough to hear anything more until Slith made a right turn and walked out into an open area that was relatively free of traffic.
Pleased with their success, the sivak sisters had almost caught up when Shanra grabbed hold of Hanra’s arm, jerked her back.
“Look! Look there!” Shanra gasped.
“What?” Hanra asked, alarmed.
“That sivak standing in front of that big ugly building. Isn’t he the one you knocked unconscious?”
The big, ugly building was the Bastion. The sivak under observation, a member of the Queen’s Own, was inspecting the guards on duty.
“What do we do? What if he sees us?” Hanra said nervously.
“Let’s head back the way we came,” Shanra whispered.
The two were about to sneak off, when they heard Slith’s voice. The sisters halted in the shadows, hoping he would say something about the presents.
“The commander was right,” Slith was saying, observing the Bastion. “That’s one ugly building. Well-fortified, though. I’ll give the general credit. No one’s gonna walk in on him unannounced.”
Slith peered at the sivaks more closely. “I’ll be damned! That’s the bastard who was on duty the night our boys disappeared. I never was quite satisfied with his answers.” He set the box down on the ground. “You stay here with the loot,” he told Drugo. “I’m gonna go have a talk with my sivak brothers over there.”
The sivaks of the Queen’s Own were eyeing Slith in no very brotherly fashion, but that didn’t deter Slith, who never minded making a nuisance of himself and who had a few questions he wanted to ask these dracos. Slith had taken a step in the direction of the Bastion, when he felt a hand clutch his arm.
“Eh?” Slith said, turning in astonishment. “What is it, Drugo?”
“Don’t go there, sir!” Drugo whispered. He sounded as if he were being suffocated. His eyes were wide and terror-filled.
“Why not, Drugo?” Slith asked, interested in this reaction. “Why shouldn’t I go there?”
“Pain,” said Drugo, clutching Slith so that his claws dug in between the silver scales. “Pain and … and darkness. And fire. Terrible fire. Lost …” he murmured. “Lost …”
“Hunh?” Slith was startled. “What would pain and darkness and a terrible fire be doing inside the general’s Bastion? You’re not just feeding me one, are you?”
Slith stared hard at Drugo. The vacant eyes stared back at him.
“No,” Slith conceded, “you have a hard enough time just feeding yourself.” He looked back at the Bastion. “Pain and fire. Sounds like the good old days.” He gently disengaged his hand from the draconian’s slicing grip. “You stay here and guard the supplies. No, no! It’ll be all right. I’m not going to go into the Bastion. Don’t worry. I’m just going to go pass the time of day with the Queen’s Own. Be sociable. Stay right here.”
“Yes, sir,” said Drugo, but he didn’t sound happy.
Slith sauntered off. Drugo had been ordered to guard the boxes and guard them he did, seemingly prepared to lay down his life in their defense.
“Uh, oh,” Shanra groaned, aghast. “Look there. Slith’s going to talk to that sivak you hit over the head.”
“Slith knows I was the one who hit him,” Hanra said, horrified. “And he knows you were the one who stole the requisition. Maybe he’s gone to report us!”
“Slith wouldn’t do that,” Shanra said, but she sounded uncertain.
“He would if the commander told him to. Move closer! I have to hear what he’s saying!” Hanra urged.
Shanra hesitated. “What about that baaz soldier?”
“He’s not one of ours. He won’t know who we are. C’mon!”
The two females slipped out of their hiding place. Walking nonchalantly, they strolled past Drugo, who eyed them with deep suspicion, but since they made no attempt to steal the boxes he’d been ordered to guard, he said nothing. Arriving at another alley, this one nearer the Bastion, the sisters dove into it. They flattened themselves against a wall, stood panting with relief.
“Hullo, boys,” Slith was saying companionably. “How’s it going? Lose any more swords lately?”
Shanra gave a smothered giggle. Hanra clamped her hand over her sister’s mouth, glared at her sternly, and Shanra subsided with a gulp.
The guards were not amused. “Do you have business here, sir?” said one.
“Nice place the general’s got,” said Slith, gazing at the Bastion. “Lots of room for him to spread out. I don’t suppose you give tours, do you?”
“Please state your business, sir,” said another of the Queen’s Own. At a glance from him, one of the guards departed.
“My business.” Slith rubbed his jaw. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You see that soldier back there? He was saying something very interesting just now. He’s terrified of that place.” Slith pointed to the Bastion. “Downright terrified. Said it was a … let me see, how did that go … a place of ‘darkness and pain and terrible fire.’ Now why do you suppose he’d say something like that?”
“He’s a baaz, sir,” said one of the Queen’s Own disparagingly. “Who knows what those wretches think?”
“If they think at all,” added another.
“And that’s my point!” Slith stated, triumphant. “I’ve known lots of baaz in my time and I’ve never known one to have an imagination. Not a creative bone in their bodies. Now you have to admit, it takes a real imagination to come up with something like ‘darkness, pain, and a terrible fire’ when you’re talking about the general’s quarters. Especially when this is one of those new dracos—from the Khalkists.”
“What seems to be the problem here?” A sivak officer, wearing the tabard of the Queen’s Own, emerged from the command tent. “Who’s your commander?”
Slith came to attention, snapped a salute. “Commander Kang, sir!”
The officer glowered. “These men are on duty, as you should be, no doubt.”
“Yes, sir. Perhaps you could tell me—”
“Dismissed!” the officer bellowed.
“Yes, sir.” Slith whipped around, tail lashing, and marched back to where Drugo stood, still guarding the boxes. Slith hefted his box, Drugo picked up the other, and they left, slogging through the muddy streets.
“Time to scoot!” Shanra breathed into her sister’s ear.
&
nbsp; “Right!” said Hanra.
“Do you know, sir,” said one of the Queen’s Own in a grim tone, “I think that sivak who was just here may have been the one who stole the swords.”
Hanra and Shanra halted, stared at each other. Acting on the same impulse, they both darted back to their hiding place, listened intently.
“What makes you say that, Troop Leader?”
“He made a crack about the swords, sir. And he said some other things that were suspicious. He was asking questions about the Bastion, sir. Claimed that one of the new baaz had been making up stories about what was going on inside.”
“Indeed,” said the officer, frowning. He gazed off in the direction Slith had taken. “What sort of stories?”
The sivak repeated Slith’s words.
“I think we may have a problem there,” said the officer. “See to it.”
“Yes, sir,” said the Queen’s Own and immediately two of them departed, taking the same route as Slith and Drugo.
“Sir!” An aide came dashing up. “Sir, the lead elements of the goblin army are in sight, coming over the ridge.”
“Very good,” said the officer imperturbably. “I will inform the general.”
He disappeared back inside the command tent.
Horns blasted, announcing time for the changing of the guard, and a troop of light infantry marched past. The light infantry almost immediately ran afoul a company of shock infantry heading in the opposite direction. There was momentary confusion, as the officers sorted out the situation and got everyone moving again. The sivak sisters took the opportunity to emerge from their hiding place and slip away.
“What do you think he meant?” Hanra asked worriedly.
“The goblin army’s in sight,” said Shanra.
“No, no,” Hanra said, annoyed at her sister’s stupidity. “What he said about Slith being the one who stole the swords. Do you think Slith will get into trouble with the general on account of us?”
“The general wouldn’t dare!” Shanra returned. She had unsullied faith in her champion. “If that grubby old aurak tried anything, Slith would chop him into ogre meat. I just hope we get to see it.”