Dragonback 03 Dragon and Slave (14 page)

The dragon twisted his neck oddly. "It is not a matter of liking
or disliking," he said, his voice suddenly very quiet. "For a K'da,
this is an echo of a time long past. A terrible time."

Jack sat up on the bed, his fatigue suddenly forgotten. Something
in the dragon's tone had sent a shiver straight through him. "Sounds
serious," he said in his most soothing, tell-me-all-about-it voice.

And was instantly ashamed of himself. Uncle Virgil had taught him
that tone for wheedling information out of people they were trying to
scam. He shouldn't be using it on a friend. Especially not on a friend
who could carve his initials in steel plate. "I mean . . . you want to
talk about it?"

For a long moment the dragon was silent. "We were not always with
the Shontine," he said at last. "In the beginning we were on another
world, with another host race."

"Who?" Jack asked. "I mean, what were their names?"

"We remember them as the Dhghem," Draycos said. "They were strong
and cheerful, full of laughter and wisdom. We were both their symbionts
and their friends."

"Sounds perfect," Jack said. It sounded
too
perfect,
actually, but that was to be expected. Whatever nuggets of real history
there might be in this story, they were almost certainly soaked in
myth, sprinkled with legend, and served up with a side order of wishful
thinking.

Still, he was hardly in a position to point fingers. Uncle Virgil
had never talked about Jack's own parents, and he had only vague
memories of them himself. But that hadn't stopped him from spending
hours wondering what they'd been like, or fantasizing about how his
life would have been different if they hadn't died when he was three.

And in every one of those daydreams, his parents had come out
taller and kinder and more handsome and more important than any human
beings could actually be. Draycos and his half-mythical hosts were
probably no different. "So what went wrong?"

Draycos started pacing again. "Our world was attacked by slavers,"
he said, his voice so low that Jack could hardly hear him. "They came
from the stars, with fire and death and supreme arrogance. The Cark,
they called themselves. They came seeking lives to steal. They saw us,
and decided they wanted us."

"You fought back, of course," Jack murmured.

"With all the power and skill we possessed," Draycos said. "But in
the end it was all for nothing. The slavers had strength beyond ours,
and weapons far beyond those of the Dhghem. They captured many of us
and our hosts and then returned to the sky."

The dragon paused again, his neck arched, his glowing green eyes
staring off into the distance. "There are songs about our time of
captivity," he said. "One day, perhaps, I will sing one of them for
you. For many years, many generations, we served the Cark as slaves.
The K'da worked or fought for them, or guarded their slave auctions.
Their Dhghem hosts also did some work, but mostly they were held
hostage for our good behavior."

"Didn't they try to fight back?" Jack asked.

"Of course," Draycos said. "There are also many songs about those
attempts. But in the end all of them failed. The Cark were too strong,
and too cunning. Eventually, most of the Dhghem gave up and resigned
themselves to their fate."

"Let me guess," Jack said. "The Cark decided they'd beaten you and
started getting sloppy."

"You are very perceptive," Draycos said. "But even with relaxed
attention, the Cark still watched them closely enough that a rebellion
would never have succeeded."

He paused, staring through the wall again. "Well?" Jack prompted.

"Something happened that had never happened before," Draycos said.
"Something no one had ever thought
could
happen. Completely by
accident, we discovered that a newly collected group of Cark slaves
could serve as hosts."

"The Shontine?"

"Exactly," Draycos said. "They were thought to be poor soldiers,
so the Cark used them as menial slaves."

He flicked his tongue around again. "Much as you and I have now
become for the Brummgas."

"I get it," Jack said, nodding. "Because they were just simple
slaves, they gave you the advantage you needed."

"What do you mean?" Draycos asked, turning his eyes on Jack.

"I mean, it's obvious," Jack said, suddenly feeling a little
flustered. Even at the most relaxed of times, the dragon's stare was a
little disconcerting. "Slaves are treated like dirt, or like animals.
But you can turn that to your advantage. As long as the Shontine
behaved themselves, the Cark probably hardly even noticed them."

Draycos was still staring, but the tip of his tail was tracing out
slow circles. "Interesting," he said. "I do not think I have ever
thought of it quite that way."

Jack shrugged. "It's the way I was brought up to think," he
pointed out. "No one expects a seven-year-old kid to be able to pull
the stunts Uncle Virgil taught me. And you already said they didn't
think the Shontine could fight."

"True," Draycos said, still sounding thoughtful. "At any rate, the
Shontine were eager to help. Together, we made our plans, and awaited
our opportunity."

"Where were the Dhghem in all this?"

"Those who had not yet given up hope of freedom were part of the
planning," Draycos said. "The others . . . we could not risk their
knowing."

Jack grimaced. "Must have been tough for you."

"We did what we had to do," Draycos said. "Our opportunity came
some months later when the Cark landed on a new world to collect fresh
slaves. The inhabitants fought back fiercely; and in the battles, some
of the best K'da warriors began to slip away."

"Faking their deaths," Jack said, nodding. "And of course, since
the Cark were keeping tabs on the Dhghem, they knew that even if the
K'da had just run away, they'd be dead within a few hours anyway."

"Correct," Draycos said. "Instead, the warriors slipped onto the
bodies of the chosen Shontine, hiding beneath the long clothing they
wore. And when the Cark finished their raid and lifted their ships into
the sky, we struck."

He stopped, his back crest stiffening with memory. "It was a short
battle," he said, his voice quiet again. "We were all aboard one ship,
with all our strength gathered, and had the advantage of surprise. But
even so we nearly lost the battle."

His tail lashed the air. "Someday I will sing you that song, as
well."

"So now you had a ship," Jack said.

"Yes," Draycos said. "But there was no way to return home. We did
not know the location, and it had been too long for the ship's records
to be of any use. We offered to return the Shontine to their world, but
they were afraid other Cark ships would come looking for them and us.
So instead we went in search of a new home where we could all live in
peace and safety."

"All three groups of you?" Jack asked. "K'da, Shontine, and
Dhghem?"

"That was our hope," Draycos murmured. "But for the Dhghem, sadly,
the time of peace was all too short. Too many of them were lost in the
final battle aboard the Cark ship, and there were no females left among
them."

Jack winced. "Oh."

"Those who remained lived out their lives among us in peace and
great honor," Draycos went on. "But when they died, it was the end of
their line."

Jack felt a tightness in his throat. "So you and the Shontine made
yourselves a home," he said. "Only to be driven away from it by the
Valahgua."

"Yes," Draycos said. "Still, we had many centuries of peace there.
And though we now have been forced to flee, we also found friends and
allies during our stay. In balance, we have no cause to complain."

"If you say so," Jack said. " 'Course, that's never stopped anyone
else."

Draycos seemed to draw himself up. "Perhaps not," he said firmly.
"But a poet-warrior of the K'da must hold himself to higher standards.
We must learn from our past, but we must not allow our history to write
itself over the present. Our task is to create the future."

"Right," Jack said, deciding to take the dragon's word for
whatever it was he'd just said. Did all K'da warriors talk like that,
he wondered, or was it just Draycos? "So what part of the future did
you want to create tonight?"

"We can only control that part immediately before us," Draycos
said. "And our first task to that end is to rest and gather our
strength."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Jack said, yawning. "You going to
sleep, too, or haven't you finished pacing yet?"

"I have finished," Draycos said. Stepping to Jack's side, he
slipped up his sleeve. "Thank you for listening. And thank you, too,
for your words of wisdom."

"You're welcome," Jack told him, wondering what words of wisdom
the dragon was talking about.

Maybe later he would ask about it. For now, any further
conversation would have to be in the form of sleep-talking. "Pleasant
dreams," he said, and scooched himself down to lay flat on the bed
again.

Draycos might have said something back to him. But Jack was asleep
long before he ever could have heard it.

Her Thumbleness woke up five hours later, as preparations for the
noon meal were underway in one of the smaller dining rooms. Naturally,
she woke up bellowing for her new pet human.

Heetoorieef himself came to fetch Jack, getting a grip on the
collar of Jack's harlequin outfit and hauling him up into a sitting
position on his cot. He shoved a cup of something hot into his hands,
ordered him to drink it, then crouched down and pushed the boy's shoes
onto his tired feet.

That task completed, he half pulled, half guided Jack to the
stairs. The slave quarters were buzzing with the mealtime preparations,
but Heetoorieef managed to move him through the controlled chaos
without getting either of them run down.

The stuff in the cup was bizarre, tasting like a mixture of
Brussels sprouts, coconut, and apricot jam. It was a combination even
Draycos might have turned up his long snout at, and that was saying a
lot.

But taster's nightmare or not, the concoction did its job. Even
before Heetoorieef got him to the stairs, Jack could feel his brain
kicking into gear again. By the time they reached the main floor, and
the Wistawk took the cup from him with a muttered "good luck," he was
wide awake.

The day started like a rerun of the night before. Her
Thumbleness's friends ran around playing loud Brummgan games and
activities, mostly ignoring Jack as he stood silently by, against a
wall. Every once in a while someone would suddenly notice him, or Her
Thumbleness would decide she needed to show off her new toy again, and
he would be called on to perform.

But as the afternoon wore on, he could see the signs of fatigue
starting to build in his audience. Even Brummgas couldn't keep up this
pace forever, and the children had already pushed themselves way too
far. The demands on Jack became sharper, and the slaps and shoves more
frequent, sometimes even when he'd done exactly as he'd been ordered. A
couple of hours more of this, he knew, and Her Thumbleness would
collapse into a Brummga-sized heap whether she liked it or not.

The only question was which of them was going to crack first. With
only five hours of sleep under his own belt, Jack wasn't exactly at the
top of his game, either. Moreover, Her Thumbleness had probably spent
the night before her party snoozing lazily in that wide, soft bed she
and her playmates had been wrestling on in the early hours of the
morning. Jack, in contrast, had spent that night in the hotbox.

But Her Thumbleness was a Brummga, and a child Brummga at that.
Jack was human, and fourteen years old. Pride alone insisted that he
outlast her.

He did, but just barely. She was halfway through the evening meal
when she threw a tantrum over absolutely nothing Jack could figure out.
Apparently even her father had had enough of her for one day, and
summarily dismissed her back to her room.

Even in his anger, though, Crampatch showed himself to be a tower
of jelly as far as his daughter was concerned. When she demanded that
she be allowed to take her new toy upstairs with her, he gave in with
only a token protest.

Her Thumbleness was still mad when they reached her bedroom. But
if her spirit was eager to play punching bag with her slave, her flesh
was already halfway to dreamland. She picked on him for a few minutes,
demanding a trick and then loudly declaring it wasn't good enough. But
she was fading rapidly. She made only a single half-hearted attempt to
hit him, and even there the gesture evaporated along the way as she
apparently decided it wasn't worth the effort. Ordering him to lie down
on the floor at the foot of her bed, she trudged to the small
artificial swamp off the sleeping area for her bedtime preparations.

Ten minutes later, the room dark except for a softly glowing
starscape set into the domed ceiling, she was snoring peacefully.

Jack listened to the rhythm of her breathing for another half hour
before he decided it was safe to talk. "Well," he whispered to Draycos.
"Here we are again."

"Yes," the dragon answered. "I am sorry, Jack. I wish there was
something I could have done to prevent this."

"Are you kidding?" Jack countered. "This, my gold-plated friend,
is as good as it gets."

There was a short silence. "I do not understand."

"Where was I last night?" Jack asked. "Well, this morning, I mean,
when I finally got to bed. I was downstairs in the slave quarters,
right? Where there are lots of people watching, and probably a few
monitors scattered around to make sure the slaves don't wander into
places they're not supposed to go."

He smiled tightly in the darkness. "
Now
where are we?"

"We are in the Chookoock family living area," Draycos said, his
voice suddenly thoughtful. "Where there may not be any such monitors."