Draconian Measures

by Don Perrin

“What have you found?” Kang demanded, jumping to his feet. “Any sign of Slith?”

  “Yes and no, sir,” said Granak. “We haven’t found him, but we did find that draco he went off with. A baaz named Drugo.”

  “Good,” said Kang. “Where is he? I want to have a talk with him.”

  “That’s going to be a problem, sir,” said Granak. “His neck is broken. Drugo’s dead.”

  Flaming arrows streaked overhead, falling thicker and faster. Fires were breaking out all over the fort. Here and there was an explosion—some goblin scoring a lucky hit, some bozak having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Outside the walls, drum beats began a rhythmic and heart-thumping pounding. The goblins used drums to start their soldiers’ adrenaline pumping and to dishearten and demoralize the enemy. The attack would come soon now.

  “Report,” Kang said in a voice he didn’t recognize.

  “We found Drugo’s body in an alley six streets over, sir. He was alone. There didn’t seem to have been a struggle. Drugo was attacked from behind, his neck twisted. My guess is he never knew what hit him.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Kang. “He was a baaz. There couldn’t have been a body. Nothing but a pile of dust!”

  “I know, sir.” Granak shrugged, helpless. “I don’t understand it any more than you do, sir.”

  “And what about Slith? Any sign of him?”

  “We found two boxes lying nearby. They were upended, their contents scattered all over the alley. And we found this.”

  Granak held out his hand. Four silver scales gleamed in the torchlight. Kang peered at them. They came from a sivak, there was no doubt about that. But there were lots of sivaks in this fort. There was no way to prove that these were Slith’s.

  “I suppose it’s possible that Slith killed this Drugo,” Kang said reluctantly.

  “No, sir.” Granak was firm. “If Subcommander Slith had killed this baaz, he wouldn’t have made such a mess of it, sir. He wouldn’t have left the boxes at the scene. And he wouldn’t be skulking about hiding. If he had killed the baaz, Subcommander Slith would have had a good reason and he would have come back to tell us about it.”

  All the draconians within hearing distance distance had stopped to listen, including their officers, who should have ordered the troops back to work. The loss of yet another draconian from their ranks affected them all. They were especially worried about Slith, who had been their second since the formation of the company.

  “Proceed with your report,” Kang ordered.

  “Yes, sir. We talked to the Quartermaster. He confirmed that Slith and Drugo had been there late this morning. They picked up several items, including twenty pairs of leather bracers. We found everything in the boxes in the alley, sir.”

  “I think you should talk to the females, Kang,” said a voice at his elbow.

  Kang turned to find Huzzad there, listening intently. Kang made an impatient gesture.

  “Whatever the problem, it will have to wait,” he said. He turned back to Granak. “Take me to where you found the—”

  “This can’t wait, Kang,” Huzzad said insistently. “Two of the females saw Slith today at about noon. Outside the Quartermaster’s.”

  Kang’s head jerked. “They did? What in the Abyss were they doing there?”

  Huzzad shouted for Fonrar. The two held a brief conversation, then Fonrar departed. Within moments, she returned with the two sivak sisters, Hanra and Shanra. As they approached, a flaming arrow streaked down from the sky, landed on the Drunken Dragon. Fire crews leapt to put out the flames, which, fortunately, did not spread. The brown goo was apparently not flammable. The same could not be said for the cactus mash.

  “Make sure those keg bombs are under cover!” Kang roared.

  He turned to find the sivak sisters standing at attention in front of him. The sisters looked meek, contrite, scared and extremely guilty.

  “One moment,” Kang said when Fonrar would have spoken. “Granak, finish your report.”

  “Yes, sir. The Quartermaster’s assistant showed us the route Slith and Drugo took when they left. That route would have taken them past the Bastion, but apparently they turned off before they reached it. We located a couple of the Queen’s Own who were on duty at the time. They weren’t much interested in talking to me, but I insisted and eventually they agreed to cooperate.”

  Kang could well imagine the tall, imposing Granak “insisting.” Kang smiled grimly.

  “I described Slith and the baaz who was with him. The Queen’s Own said that they hadn’t seen either of them—”

  “That’s not true!” the sisters cried simultaneously.

  Startled, Kang looked at them.

  “Very well,” Kang said, “let me hear what you two know. And make it quick.”

  “Sir,” said Hanra, “we saw Subcommander Slith today. This morning. We saw him by the Quartermaster’s.” She looked down at her feet. “We are … uh … very fond of Slith, sir. Subcommander Slith. And, well, we followed him.”

  “He said he had presents for us, sir,” Shanra added. “We wanted to find out what they were.”

  “And what were you two were doing at the Quartermaster’s?” Kang said sternly. “You don’t need any more swords, I take it?”

  “Oh, no, Commander,” said Shanra, missing the sarcasm. “We have enough swords, thank you, sir. We were picking up the spell components Thesik and the bozaks need for their magic—”

  “Shhh!” her sister hissed at her.

  But it was too late. Horrified, Shanra put her hand over her mouth.

  “Magic!” Kang stared at Fonrar.

  “Please, sir,” she said, stricken. “I can explain—”

  “Yes, you will,” he said tersely. “But first things first.” He turned back to the sisters. “You followed Slith, you said.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hanra said, seeing that Shanra was too mortified to talk. “We followed him and the stranger baaz. They came to that big ugly building—”

  “The Bastion,” Kang said.

  “Yes, sir. Slith and the stranger baaz stopped to look at it. And then we saw that sivak. The one …” Hanra halted, looked confused.

  “The one you hit over the head,” Kang guessed.

  “Yes, sir.” Hanra was now looking at her feet.

  “Go on.”

  Between the two of them, the sivak sisters related all that they had seen and heard between Slith, Drugo, and the Queen’s Own.

  “That stranger baaz talked about a ‘terrible darkness’ and ‘fiery pain.’ He was really frightened. He told Slith not to go in the Bastion. Slith said he wouldn’t. He just wanted to talk to the Queen’s Own. And he did. He told them what the baaz had said and he asked them what it meant. The Queen’s Own said the baaz was just being stupid. Then an officer came out and told Slith he had better leave and so he and the baaz picked up the boxes and walked away. And that was all that happened—”

  “—except for what the officer said after Slith was gone,” Shanra added.

  “What?” Kang asked sharply. “What did he say?”

  The two exchanged guilty glances.

  “You tell,” Hanra muttered. “You brought it up.”

  “Well …” Shanra drew in a deep breath. “They said they thought Slith was the one who had … uh … stolen the swords, sir.”

  “Tell me exactly what they said,” Kang ordered.

  Shanra thought back. “It was something like: ‘he’—meaning Subcommander Slith, sir—‘made a crack about the swords. And he was asking questions about the Bastion.’ ”

  “Yes, and when he said that, the officer looked really angry,” Hanra added. “He wanted to know what the baaz had said and the sivak told him. All about the darkness and the fiery pain.”

  Shanra struck in eagerly. “I remember this part. The officer said, ‘I think we may have a problem here.’ ”

  “Yes and then he said, ‘See to it,’ ” said Hanra. “And they left.”

  “Which way did they go?”


  “The same way as Subcommander Slith, sir.”

  “And what happened then?” Kang asked, frowning.

  The two looked at each other doubtfully.

  “Oh, yes. I remember,” Hanra said. “Another sivak came running up and said that the enemy was on the move. We saw more draconians coming and so we figured we better leave.”

  “Yes, we didn’t want to miss out on the presents,” Shanra said.

  “The presents,” Kang repeated absently.

  His mind was on these new draconians, on how they had come from the Khalkists, marched through the goblin lines to reach this fort unscathed. Slith had not believed the story and had decided to check it out. He’d spent the day with one draconian, who had told him that the Bastion was a place of “pain and terrible darkness” or words to that effect. The Queen’s Own had deemed Slith “a problem” and had been told to “see to it.” Now the strange draconian, whose body had not turned to stone as it should have, was dead and Slith was missing.

  But why kill one and not the other? If Slith had tumbled onto something he shouldn’t have, why not kill him too? He had mysteriously vanished, just like other draconians in the fort had mysteriously vanished. Kang had not believed that they were deserters and he was damn sure Slith would not have deserted. And then there was this talk about “pain and terrible darkness” in the Bastion.

  Kang didn’t have any answers, but he knew where to start looking. Looking for answers and looking for Slith. There was now no doubt in Kang’s mind that his friend was in an extremely bad situation. If there had been a way out, Slith would have found it by now.

  Kang began to issue orders.

  “Support Squadron, you’re with me. The rest of you remain here and keep working—”

  Kang’s words were obliterated by horn blasts, braying and raucous, coming from outside the walls. General Maranta had miscalculated. The goblins were not waiting until dawn to attack. They were launching their attack now.

  “Damn!” Kang said, and added several more colorful words suitable to the situation.

  Horns inside the fort began calling the troops to their positions. Officers were shouting orders, draconians were answering with cheers and battle cries. The ground shook with the tramping of many feet.

  If Kang could have split himself in two, he would have done so in that instant. He would have sent half of himself clambering up the wall to see the disposition of the goblin forces, to try to figure out where they were going to strike first and hardest. He would have sent the other half of himself to the Bastion to find out what had happened to Slith.

  He would have split his troops, as well. Support Squadron would be needed here. They were short-handed, as it was. He needed men to finish readying the dragon for flight, men to protect it and in addition he needed men to maintain order inside the fort and continue fighting the fires.

  His officers stood poised, ready to react, tense, worried, uncertain what their commander was going to do. A volley of arrows sailed over the wall. Fortunately, they had been fired from a great distance and were mostly spent. Rattling on the ground, they bounced off the draconians’ scaly hides, doing little or no damage. But they were a harbinger of things to come. The range would shorten, the flights of arrows would soon become more deadly.

  Kang knew, of course, what he should do. Slith was one single draconian. His life was unimportant. Kang’s responsibility was to the fort, to his fellow draconians. More lives than just Slith’s would be lost in this battle. Kang could not let his personal feelings intervene. If their situations had been reversed, Kang would have expected Slith to make the same decision, would have given him hell if he had not.

  “Belay that order, Support Squadron,” Kang said calmly. “We can’t spare the men.”

  “No, but you can spare our Squadron,” Fonrar said suddenly and unexpectedly. “We’ll find out what’s happened to Subcommander Slith, sir.”

  Before Kang could find his voice to order them firmly to return to their barracks, Fonrar was herself shouting orders. “Female Troop! You will arm yourselves and report back to me on the double. Move! Riel, bring me my sword and webbing!”

  The baaz saluted. The females dropped the wood they had been using to stoke the fire and dashed off, running toward their barracks in a disciplined, orderly manner.

  “This will be a good training mission, Subcommander Fonrar,” Huzzad remarked.

  “Agreed,” said Fonrar, adding with equal formality. “We would be honored if you would accompany us, Wing Commander Huzzad.”

  “I am the one who would be honored, Subcommander,” said Huzzad, loosening her sword in its sheath.

  By this time, Kang had recovered from his shock. “No,” he bellowed. “Absolutely not! I won’t allow it. You will return to barracks—”

  He might as well have been talking to the Drunken Dragon. Neither Fonrar nor Huzzad was paying the least bit of attention to him. The female draconians returned, buckling on their harness as they ran. They began to line up in front of Fonrar. Riel handed Fonrar her sword. Thesik helped to buckle it on, as Fonrar continued to issue orders.

  “Hanra, you and your sister know your way to the Bastion. You take the lead. The rest of us will follow.” Fonrar looked over her troops. “Everyone ready?”

  The females thundered back a reply.

  “Good! Move out! Double-time, there, troopers!”

  The squadron broke into a run. They were not in particularly good order, a few of them tripped over their swords, but they were setting a good pace.

  Fonrar saluted. “Well find Subcommander Slith, sir. Don’t worry.” She left at a dash, accompanied by Huzzad, who gave Kang a wry grin.

  Kang sucked in a huge breath, ready to call a halt to the entire proceeding. And then he remembered Huzzad’s words, heard them as clearly as if she were standing next to him.

  Each one has her own soul. Each has her own destiny. Each has the right to achieve her own destiny. You can’t take away that right. They look to you for guidance, Kang, for leadership and counsel. But they won’t for long. Eventually, they’ll start to hate you.

  Kang shifted words in mid-bellow. “Fulkth! You’re in charge! Have that contraption ready to launch at first light. If I’m not back, you take command. You know what to do. Granak, you’re with me.”

  The streets were crowded, congested. Every draconian in the fort was on the move, each having to be somewhere he wasn’t and all trying to get there at the same time. Nothing short of a fiery mountain falling down in front of him could stop Granak, who at times bodily lifted up draconians and tossed them out of his path and the commander’s. They soon caught up to the females, who were also proving adept at bullying and pushing their way through the streets.

  Hearing Kang’s shout, Fonrar looked around. Her expression hardened. She eyed him defiantly, marshalling her arguments, ready to march them out to do battle.

  Reaching her side, Kang raised his hand in a salute.

  “I’d like to join you, Troop-Leader,” he said gravely, politely, one senior officer speaking to another. “If that is agreeable?”

  Fonrar smiled at him. Her eyes shone brighter than the blazing fires.

  “I’d like that, sir,” she said. “I’d like it very much.”

  Running along at Fonrar’s side, Huzzad glanced at Kang and winked.

  “Comrades?” she asked.

  “Comrades,” said Kang.

  Two members of the Queen’s Own stood guard outside the Bastion. They remained at their posts, seemingly oblivious to the noise and confusion inside the fort. The flaming arrows had not penetrated this deep into the interior. Even the sounds of the drumbeats and the first fierce yells of the advancing goblin army were muffled back here. The Queen’s Own took note of Kang’s advancing force, but the sight of armed draconians marching through the streets was nothing out of the ordinary, did not even rate a second glance.

  Kang was counting on just such a reaction from the Bastion’s guards. He didn’t
want a fight. The objective was to save draconian lives, not kill them. He gave Fonrar the signal, which meant that the plan they had hastily cobbled together on the way here was to be put into action.

  The troop of draconian females, with Fonrar at its head, marched toward the Bastion. Fonrar gave the guards a salute. The Queen’s Own were engrossed in talking to each other and didn’t even bother to acknowledge her. The front ranks of the females drew near. The guards continued talking, discussing the upcoming battle.

  Kang’s orders to Fonrar had been to take the guards by surprise, subdue them. They hadn’t had time to discuss how that would be accomplished, but Fonrar had assured Kang that she and her troops would get the job done. He expected the females to rush the guards, bear them down by sheer numbers, clunk them over the head a couple of times. Not elegant, but at least effective.

  Kang marched at the rear. He had stationed Granak up front with Fonrar, with quiet orders to the large sivak to jump in and help, should the females get into trouble. Hearing Fonrar’s sudden, sharp command, Kang raced toward the Bastion, the rear ranks of females racing back with him. Expecting a battle, he arrived at the Bastion to find the two members of the Queen’s Own lying on the ground, having what appeared to be a peaceful snooze, while several baaz females bound them neatly hand and foot.

  “What the—” Kang stared. “How did—”

  “Magic, sir,” said Fonrar, trying hard to sound casual. “Sleep spell.”

  “But the magic is gone!” Kang protested.

  “Yes, sir,” Fonrar answered. “We know, sir.” She was clearly embarrassed.

  “The magic’s not gone for them, Kang,” Huzzad explained hurriedly. “It’s not gone for any of the rest of the draconians in your regiment. The male bozaks have been teaching the females.”

  Kang glared at them all grimly. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “We know how you feel about the magic being the Queen’s gift and how when she left, the gift was lost,” Fonrar said. “If you didn’t use magic, the other bozaks didn’t feel it was right for them to use magic. But we didn’t know anything about any of this, sir. The males caught us using some spells, just fooling around. They told us that the magic was not a toy, that the spells might hurt us if we didn’t know what we were doing. And so they taught us the right way. Don’t be angry, sir. We didn’t mean to deceive you.”