Authors: Christopher Rowley
Relkin knew that the Master could not understand. To be a dragonboy meant you were half of an organism. The other half was two tons of wyvern. Where was his dragon? How could he have a future life that did not include the dragon?
"And you would be the King of Marneri, or perhaps of Kadein, if you would prefer the big city?"
Heruta dangled the juiciest bait he could think of. This boy was an amazing mixture of openhearted fanatic and sly little sophisticate. Relkin had spent time in old Ourdh after all, a notorious cesspit of the flesh. Heruta shuddered. The lure of women, how odious it was! Men were so weak toward it. Complete sexual abstinence was the only way for the achievement of the great power.
Relkin's mind was turning over the options available. Backing up the Master's attempt to seduce him this way was the unspoken threat to little Jak. Surely if Relkin refused, then little Jak would suffer some horror. It seemed Relkin had to dissemble. Yet, as Kreegsbrok had said quite correctly, it would be hellishly difficult lying to the Master.
"How could I be sure of such a thing?" he said slowly.
Heruta buzzed quietly for a moment. Ahah, the price had been found. The kingdom of Kadein, complete with the great fat city of Kadein itself.
Finally, Heruta would have someone who had spent considerable time with such creatures as the hag Lessis. The prospects were most encouraging.
The volcano loomed above them. When it rumbled, the ground shook. Occasionally gas seethed so loudly in the vent that the small group of men and dragons could not hear themselves speak.
In front of them stretched an open plain of lava and ash cut by gullies and ravines. Across the plain stood the walls of the Master's fortress, twenty feet high and studded with towers twice that, all built from stone quarried at the farthest end of the island. A road, constantly repaired by gangs of slaves, ran to the great gate that bisected the wall.
Behind the first wall bulked the buildings of the foundry, which sprawled up the side of the volcano. Roofed in copper, grown deep green with corrosion, these buildings presented windowless walls up to a hundred feet high and two chimneys that stood even higher. The whole vast thing trembled with each motion of the fire mountain.
Heruta Skash Gzug cared little for the risk. His slaves would rebuild if the volcano destroyed everything. And with his pet batrukh tethered in a high tower, he was assured of escape at any time.
The day was waning rapidly, as it always did in the tropics. Count Trego of Felk-Habren was eager to be off. He and the spearman Rikart were to make a reconnaissance. Their object was to find a way inside the enemy's stronghold.
Lessis had wanted to go alone. None of them could move as quietly as she, none of them could see in the dark as well, either. The men, especially the count, would not accept this. Despite the changes in his opinion of the witch he could not allow a woman to undertake a dangerous mission when he was there to do it himself. The witch pondered the use of magic to change their minds, but abandoned the thought with a sigh. That was how the enemy fought, with programmed slaves. The men of the Empire of the Rose were free.
As soon as the darkness grew thick enough, the two men slid out from their place of concealment behind rough-hewn boulders of lava and shifted down toward the nearest gully.
Lessis watched with her spyglass, until the darkness made it impossible to see anything.
"I hope they'll be able to find their way back," said Lagdalen.
"I hope so, too, my dear. I wish they would have listened to me."
"I have never seen him so agitated as when you suggested that he stay while you went alone."
Lessis nodded. That male pride again; it made heroes out of ordinary men, but it also made for foolish mistakes. Then she reassured herself. With the constant noise of the volcano, it probably didn't matter how much noise the men made since no one would hear them.
There was a heavy movement behind them, and they felt a big presence slide into place alongside.
"Are the boys in there?" said the broketail dragon.
"I don't know," said Lessis. "They had them up at the crater before, but I'm sure that was only to terrify them."
"They kill them?'
"No, I don't think so. They could be very valuable, especially Relkin. He has seen a great deal for one so young. They will want to pry deeply into his mind."
The dragon grunted. Lessis could have sworn the great monster was laughing.
"That not take too long then," Bazil said.
Lessis smiled to herself. It was always this way between dragon and boy. No matter how grave the adversity, dragons had to show their superiority.
"Why does the enemy build this place here? The mountain will destroy it."
"He does not care. Slaves will rebuild it. He needs the heat generated by the mountain. With that heat, one can make fine steel."
Bazil digested this for a moment. Alsebra had suggested much the same thing a little earlier.
"We stop him."
Lessis approved of the finality with which the dragon said this. The dragon spoke again.
"First find boy, though."
"Yes, of course. We all owe Master Relkin that much."
They lapsed into silence, their eyes scanning the dark plain. There was nothing to see except a distant gang of slaves, working under torchlight to repair the great road. There were many bridges built across the wider gullys, and these were under constant assault from the vibrations of the mountain and the sudden widening of gullys and ravines. Thus gangs of workers were constantly employed at repairs.
On the walls stood imps, visible occasionally by the torches they carried as they went about their business. Once or twice Lessis had seen a troll with her spyglass. The walls were well defended. She prayed the count would be cautious.
An hour passed.
Suddenly they heard horns blare on the gate tower. The gates were swinging open. Lessis prayed, but her prayers were not answered. With the spyglass she could see a horde of imps come forth with torches waving above them.
Other imps came behind them, and with them were other things, taller and deadlier than imps. With horror she saw they were yellow beasts brought from the jungles of terror. They stepped forward with a peculiar, dainty stride, under the command of fell imps, who held them by long chains to their necks.
Imps ran in from the plain, gesticulating wildly. The chains were released, and the sickle-clawed beasts bounded forward on their long hind legs, the small front legs tucked up beneath their chests. Lessis felt the breath freeze in her throat.
"They've been seen," said Lagdalen.
"How can we help them?" said Wiliger.
Lessis shrugged. "If they're caught they're done for, but if they can get back here, we can ready a hot reception for their pursuers."
It was agreed in moments. Wiliger ran back to the other dragons; Bazil moved off to join them. Lessis remained on the rock with her spyglass trained on the dark terrain in front.
The monsters came on quickly; she could see them bound along the plain, leaping the gullys when they came to them. Lessis shivered as she recalled scenes from their earlier struggles in the jungle.
Then at last she caught a glimpse of the men. They had a lead on the pursuit, but when they were forced out of a covering ravine and across a stretch of the plain, they were seen. Now it became a virtual foot race, and that they could not win against the bounding yellow demons that came behind.
Swane dropped down beside her. He had seen the gathering crisis and had an arrow notched in his Cunfshon bow.
The men came on, desperately urging their tired bodies on, legs extending mightily before and behind. The beasts were gaining.
Now they struck the slight incline that led up to the line of rocks behind that sheltered the dragons.
The count was losing the pace, winded. It had been years since he had run this hard, this long. Spearman Rikart stopped, looked back, and saw the first of the yellow beasts as it lunged in at the count.
Rikart sprang back and intercepted the beast with his spear point. It gave a shriek of rage and pain, and tried to reach him with the massive claws on its hind feet, but the spearman did not give way and pressed home the point, until the thing was pinned to the ground.
More were coming, though; it was time to run. Rikart jerked his spear free and bounded on, catching up to the staggering figure of the count just before they reached the rocks.
Big hands reached out of the shadows, seized both men by the arms, and pulled them out of sight.
"Well done, Rikart man," said a dragon voice.
The beasts leapt up the slope and then to the top of the rocks. Three dragons rose up from the darkness beyond, and great dragonswords swept around in full roundhouse cuts. The first three beasts went down instantly, cut in two at the waist.
The next three yellow beasts came on with no thought of caution or concern for their fellows. They ignored whistles from their imp handlers. Two leapt over the rocks. Vlok spitted one cleanly, running "Katsbalger" right through it as if he were putting a lamb on a kebab stick. Alsebra chopped the other one down with a neat backhand slice. Unfortunately, Vlok's spitted beast did not behave as if it was ready to be turned over the coals. It attacked Vlok with teeth and claws, ignoring the fact that a huge wedge of steel had been passed clean through its vitals. Claws skittered off Vlok's tough hide, and fortunately for the leatherback, the beast's gutting claw got hooked into Vlok's joboquin and could not be freed. With a snarl the beast clamped its jaws on Vlok's arm. Vlok bellowed in pain and punched it between the eyes, knocking it cold. At last it consented to fall away.
The third beast avoided leaping into the unknown, and instead pressed into a gap between the stones. Swane put an arrow into it, but it spotted his movements and leapt for him, unfazed by the arrow in its chest. Swane dodged back and bumped into Count Felk-Habren, who had drawn steel and was waiting for the onrushing beast.
The count pushed Swane aside. He anticipated the beast's move, which was to leap with its feet foremost, the long sickle claws extended to slash him to ribbons. Count Trego met it with his sword, which cut deep into the thing's feet.
The impact bowled him over, and the beast bore down with its jaws, seeking his throat. Swane was about to hurl himself on it when a big hand caught hold of him from behind and pulled him up and back. Then Bazil struck with Ecator and hewed the beast down.
The count struggled free from the still-kicking lower half of the creature. He was covered from head to toe in gore.
The beasts were slain. Their imp masters were alerted to the fact. The imps were closing in, moving cautiously now. Something had stilled their charges, which they found difficult to believe. Normally those things ran down men and tore them up like cats taking down small rats.
"We must move," hissed Lessis. "Before they see us."
This was such obvious good sense that the count did not argue. The group, with Swane in the lead, bow at the ready, moved off to its right, circling back through an area of rough lava to get past fie flat plain before the walls. The walls continued up the side of the volcanic cone, but they were not so formidable up there, and Lessis thought they might be garrisoned with fewer imps.
They moved as quickly as they could, Vlok complaining of the bite on his arm from the beast.
The imps let up a wail behind them. The corpses of the beasts had been discovered. Such damage could only be done by one force, wyvern dragons with dragonsword. Gazaki! Filthy great Gazaki were loose on the Island of the Bone! There was a sudden burst of activity on the walls of the fortress.
Lessis called a halt while she studied the situation. Squads of imps were trotting out the gate; a half dozen trolls armed with heavy axes came out after them.
There came a screech from high up the mountainside, and with a sinking heart Lessis saw the shape of a great batrukh take to the air.
They could not remain in the open; batrukhs could see well in the dark. Unfortunately, the only cover here was provided by overhangs of roughly cooled lava. Everything else was bare to the sky.
Despair gripped Lessis's heart. If they were seen, the enemy would direct his forces to surround them. There was nothing to be done except to slink into the shadows and lurk there while the batrukh prowled the sky above. Every so often they heard its shrill scream as it wheeled by. Yet, they could not remain where they were. The imps would find them sooner or later.
Lessis scouted forward, slipping invisibly through the pools of deepest shadow. She found a way that even the dragons could take, down through a tumbled section of huge blocks of stone to a deep gully. Lava had welled up here and made a dome, which had then broken open to allow the gully to spew forth.
She returned and successfully guided them down to the gully. There they crouched as close as possible to the steep sides. The batrukh flew past but not directly over them, and so they were safe for a moment.
Safe, but trapped. Lessis wracked her brain for a way out, but could think of nothing. Lagdalen was looking at her intently, hoping that she could think of something. So were the count and Dragon Leader Wiliger.
Lessis had never felt less inspired. It seemed she had led her small force into a trap, and she could not think of a way out. From the beginning this had been a quixotic adventure, a last throw of the dice, and it seemed to have failed.
The batrukh flew past again, but again it missed them. How long this could go on before they were detected, she did not know. Where to go? To go downslope and leave the gully invited immediate detection on the flatter surface beyond. To go up the gully offered little improvement. Their target lay inside those walls, guarded by who knew how many aroused imps and trolls. It seemed very far away.
Just when despair was closing over her in waves, she heard a strange, soft hoot from somewhere above her head. Lessis looked up.
Above them on a cliff overlooking the gully was a small, triangular head outlined against the dark sky. It was hard to see except when it moved. It seemed to have large ears.