Dragons of War (23 page)

Some clambered from their conveyances and prepared to run for it. Bazil snarled and roared, "Where is the dragonboy?"

Dwarves ran.

Ecator came whistling down and chopped through a small white coach. The pony bolted away with the front part. Bazil strode through the wreckage, turning over carriages, pushing others out of the way. Ecator rose high.

Relkin and the elves were in front of him the next moment.

"I'm here, Baz, here!"

The dragon stopped in mid-swing. A half dozen terrified dwarves were saved from death.

"Boy!" he roared. Then he returned his gaze to the two elves who flanked the boy.

"Who are these?"

"These are, well, I don't know their names, Baz, but they've been very helpful, shall we say."

"Boy looks like he is barely alive. They were not helpful enough."

Relkin put a hand up to his battered ear. "Right," then his eyes filled with concern as he saw the tattered condition of his dragon's hide.

"What in the name of the old gods has happened to you?" he said.

Bazil chuffed, "I ran into thorns in the forest. Elf difficult to catch."

"Oh ho, you were out catching elves while elves were out catching me. We've had quite a night of it."

Bazil's concern grew when he saw Relkin's back now cut to shreds.

"Boy will have a convict's back," he said grimly.

The elf lords spoke up.

"You must return now to your comrades. Come, we will show you the way." The elves led them out of the Gate of Madrubab and onto the forest way. The golden chain was withdrawn. The elves raised their hands.

"Farewell, dragonboy. We leave you now."

"Wait, there is more I would like to know. The Sinni, why are they involved?"

"That is not for us to know."

"What are they, then? Can you tell me at least that much?"

"High Lords, risen in the dawn time. Always they have guarded Ryetelth."

"We must go now, dragonboy. Return to your comrades. They come."

"Wait, tell me your names. I must know to whom I owe my life."

"We are Althis and Sternwal. If ever you are in need of assistance in the forest of the King under the Tree, you need only call out our names."

They turned and began running and soon disappeared, moving at tremendous speed, taking their golden glow with them.

Relkin exhaled and took a long breath. The dragon was a massive reassuring presence in the dark. They walked down a wide pathway through the trees, which at length came out upon the riverside. In the mid-distance, they spied the lights of the
Alba
.

The water was cold, but the dragon bore him up on his broad back, and the shock of the cold brought new life back to him. He turned and looked back to the forest of Valur. The world had been revealed to him as a stranger place than he had ever imagined.

"A rose garden in Arneis," he mumbled. The Sinni were interested in him. It was an unnerving thought.

Back aboard the
Alba
, Relkin endured the ire of Dragon Leader Turrent and the ribbing from the dragonboys. Mono, who was the best hand with a needle, sewed up his back. While he did so, he pestered him with questions about his frolics with the elf maid.

Relkin had his teeth gritted and his eyes screwed tight during the procedure but at length he managed a grin.

"Couldn't stop myself, Mono, Relkin the great lover and all that."

Bazil, sitting beside them, emitted a huge chuckle. "Elf understand this boy's obsession with fertilizing the eggs, that's what."

The chuckle died away, and the dragon eyes sparkled dangerously. "But better for dwarves that I never meet them. They never steal dragonboy or anyone else ever again."

When Relkin awoke, it was to return to the life of punishment details and empty hours in which to ponder the future.

Arneis was a lush province on the other side of the Malgun mountains, near Kadein. It was famous for red wines. Why he should go there to fulfill his destiny was a mystery.

Then there was the matter of the Sinni. What did those strange beings want with him? He recalled the eerie shapes that had hung in the air over him in the pit at Dzu and shivered.

He recalled the dark witch Ribela's words, "Upon the sphere board of destiny lie all the pieces, child. There is a piece for each one of us, even you, and the smallest piece can play a vital role in the affairs of worlds."

He resolved to write to the Lady Lessis. Under the fort's patient teacher, who taught a mixed class of legionaries and farm boys their letters, he had worked hard through the winter to master reading and improve his writing. Lessis had told him to write to her, and he would. Perhaps she could answer some of the many, many questions pounding in his brain.

He scrubbed. He peeled. He lathered. He polished. The days went by, and the
Alba
made her slow but steady way up the river against the gentle current.

Relkin's back healed, and the purple bruise above his cheekbone slowly turned brown and faded away.

At last they reached the Darkmon Break where the river dropped a thousand feet in the space of half a mile. They debarked and marched up the Imperial road to the top. As they went, they passed the grain chutes built by the Imperial engineers. These chutes were one of the wonders of Kenor. Sacks of grain slid smoothly down the chutes on their way to the docks at the head of navigation down below.

In fact, there were seven separate lengths of chute, and at each break in the system, there were teams of laborers who maneuvered the grain into the next chute downward. All in all the chutes were a perfect example of the Imperial engineering philosophy at its best.

At the top of the break, they stood on the upper reach of the river, a wild place completely different from the placid lower reach. From here on they marched.

Later that day they passed a dredging crew busy canalizing the upper stream. Three great dragons, old brasshides, sat on the bank, eating an enormous lunch. A dozen men, twice that many horses, and lots of equipment made up the background. In the channel, half buried in the water, was their dredger with its steel-tipped scoop set on cross-braced beams a foot thick.

These older dragons and the 109th exchanged friendly greetings mixed with cheerful dragonish insults while they marched past.

When they were past the dredgers, the dragons of the 109th fell into a spirited discussion of the possibilities of such a working life. Dragons in retirement were given the choice of farming in Kenor, taking up work in the Engineering Corps or going home to the village of their birth.

"Engineer dragons, they have a good life," said Anther, the green from Aubinas.

"Get paid well, eat all they want," said his dragonboy Halm of Ors.

"Have to dig like that, every day?" said the Purple Green.

"They build bridges, too. It's really a big part of the Imperial Effort."

"I would consider it," said the Purple Green. "Better than having to grow plants to survive."

"But the farmer owns his land, dragons have property rights, too," said Bazil.

"I do not trust such things. When all this land is fully settled, will the men still let dragons keep theirs?"

"The empire will always honor the dragons," said Halm of Ors.

"But the empire may not survive forever," said Alsebra, the green freemartin from Aubinas. "Men have ruled themselves in many different ways. Only the empire has proved a friend to dragonkind."

The other dragons looked at Alsebra and blinked heavily as they adjusted. The freemartin was formidably well-informed and, they feared, more intelligent than any of them. She was also very good with her dragonsword, "Undaunt!" All the dragons in the 109th had been both intimidated by her and attracted to her since her arrival. Except for the Broketail that is, whose heart's desire flew the great northern skies, haunting the herds on the migration routes.

"Alsebra not have to worry. Empire last longer than any dragon here."

"But someday, Broketail, someday there will be many, many humans here, and then they will not want dragons to live among them. You know how it is in the cities."

"Dragons well treated in Marneri."

"Yes, but not all the time. I think you've had your own bad experiences."

Bazil nodded, there had been his first job, working for the Lord of Borgan county in Blue Stone province. His first experience of trolls had come from that encounter.

"True, but farmer can grow rich growing grain for the empire. Grow rich and hire men and horses to work for one. Dragon not have to work anymore."

"Now that sounds better to me," rumbled big Chektor, the old brasshide.

"But the engineer dragon gets to travel. You go all over the empire. Build bridges in Kadein. Dredge river in Kenor, and Anther."

"Aha, green one wants to travel," said Vlok. "Take advice from this dragon, don't travel."

"Vlok is well traveled?" said Alsebra.

"Vlok has seen the world."

"So then, why not travel?"

"It's uncomfortable. On ships you are all cooped up like some big chicken."

They all laughed at that.

"That Vlok, he should have wings," said Alsebra.

This brought mirth from the Purple Green.

"By the fire of Glabadza that would be a bad idea!" he roared.

Also on the road they met wagon trains hauled by teams of giant horses.

"Biggest horses I ever seen," said little Jak.

"They're Imperial drafts," said Manuel.

"Imperial?" said Swane. "You sure about that?"

"Sure, look at them. Those white manes and tails on the greys, that's a sign they're Imperial draft bred."

"All Kohon is famous for horses," said Bryon. "Wheat and horses, that's what they say."

"And they take the very biggest for the Imperial draft."

"What do they taste like?" said the Purple Green innocently from behind them. The dragonboys all howled at him in disgust.

"Bah," grumbled the Purple Green, who occasionally licked his chops when he contemplated the smooth, rolling haunches of the Imperial draft horses, "dragonboys just haven't eaten horse before. I show you how to eat it."

They shuddered and bade him be silent.

The next day they marched into Kohon Town in the early morning. The town was already bustling on the commercial streets and the mouthwatering smell of hot bread and frying bacon came from cookshacks along the dockside. And yet, as they marched, they noticed that something was amiss.

Kohon Town had grown up beneath the steep cliffs of the Kelderberg, and the streets wound up the slope through residential neighborhoods of fine houses, built of wood, brick, and wattle. There was an air to the place that spoke of success. The town was the natural governing center of the growing province that it formed the gateway to.

To the east and south, the High Lake stretched out, more than ten miles across. To the north lay the bountiful plains of Kohon, and to the west stood the dark face of Black Fell.

Relkin sized up the fell quickly.

"Going to be hard work chasing bandits over that."

They headed for the fort built above the town. While marching through the town streets, they noticed that outside of the commercial district the town was eerily quiet. Everyone they saw wore nothing except black clothing. This reminded Swane, of course, of the folk of Ourdh, many of whom also wore black. There was also an abundance of high-crowned black hats with wide round rims that shadowed the face.

"Notice something else?" said Jak.

"They've shut down all the beer halls," said Relkin.

"So they have," said Swane in a tone of horrified amazement.

"Every inn?"

"Seems like."

"Where's that old Caymo now?" grumbled Swane.

On the road above the town, they passed neat houses with thick stone walls and heavy thatching. Winters here were short, but fierce, in part because of the elevation. From the windows they caught glimpses of children's faces, rapt with awe as they gazed on the marching men, and then the dragons.

The fort was small, tiny after Dalhousie, normally it was home to a detachment of cavalry, rarely more than sixty strong. Now tents were erected across the former parade ground, and dragon huts went up. Soon the place seemed crowded.

Captain Eads came around soon after they were settled in. He wore a troubled expression.

"I understand how tight a fit this is right now for everyone," he said, "but very soon we'll be starting patrols and that will ease things here considerably."

Even as that thought was sinking in, however, his tone became grim.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you all. While we're here in Kohon Town, we'll be drinking water only.

There will be no leave, and no one will be allowed in the town except on duty. This is not my doing, I hasten to assure you. It's a demand from the town elders."

His audience was thunderstruck. The legions drank beer as a matter of course every day, man, dragon, and dragonboy. Drunkenness was frowned on and was rare, but everyone got their beer every day, and no one missed it more than dragons.

Captain Eads could see the question in every eye. "I'll explain. For the last year now, the town has been run by a Dianine sect. For those of you who haven't heard of them, the Dianines are, shall we say, fond of prohibitions. They frown on frivolity of any kind. They have banned all alcoholic drinks. In fact, they have banned a great number of things. Such as dancing, garlic, and newspapers. I think you will agree that a town without beer and dancing is not a town worth visiting anyway. We are not welcome in the town. We will not go to the town. Understood?"

Ead's face was a rare color at that moment. He was plainly angered by this development. The damned townsfolk did of course want, nay demand, that the men and the dragons climb the mountains and slay the Cralls, but they did not want them on their streets. Rorker Eads would have happily turned his force around and gone back downstream. He didn't care what the Cralls did to the damned place, if this was how they were.

Afterward Relkin walked out just ahead of a group of indignant troopers who were angrily discussing the Dianines.