The Doom Brigade

by Don Perrin

  Slith grimaced.

  “Of course,” Kang continued, “you’d have to settle the fights that would break out among the troops, when the men couldn’t find any other way to let off steam. Still, think of the long, peaceful nights. Very long. No dwarf spirits. No nut-ale. We could get a lot accomplished. I was thinking of starting a series of lectures—”

  “All right, sir,” Slith said gloomily. “You’ve made your point. But I got to tell you, sir. I know dwarves. And they’ll think we’ve all gone soft if we don’t at least punish ’em, and punish ’em good.”

  “I intend to, Slith,” Kang said, tone now grim. “First, though, I want to make certain they’re not planning to finish us off. They could, you know, if they attacked now in strength. We have no defenses. We’re stuck out here in the open, exposed. I need to know their plans, Slith. I need to know if they’re massing for an all-out assault.”

  “And if they are, sir?”

  “Then we have to make a choice. We either leave the valley or we stay and fight.”

  Slith thought this over. “If we leave the valley, where would we go, sir? We’ve got to assume that the dark knights have every major road under their control. They’d find us for sure. I say we stay and fight.”

  “I agree. I’m for staying myself. And we’ll put up one hell of a fight if the dwarves insist on it, but I’m hoping they won’t. It’s imperative that we know their plans.”

  “Yes, sir. And what do we do then?”

  Kang paused, then said, “We fight, if they push us. If not, if they’re willing to go back to the way things were before, then I’m willing to do the same. I’ll arrange a parley with their High Thane. This valley’s big enough for us all to live in. And we’ll be gone soon enough. All they have to do is wait for us to die off.”

  Slith shook his head, unconvinced. But it wasn’t his place to argue. “So what’s the plan, sir?”

  “I want you to take three other Sivaks and do some scouting. You know how to sneak into that village without being spotted.”

  “Yes, sir!” Slith, the shape-changer, grinned again. This was more to his liking. “It’s going to mean killing, though.”

  “Yes, and that will show the dwarves that we don’t intend to roll over and turn to stone. But we kill only soldiers. No killing of civilians, especially no women or children. The dwarves we caught torching our village were all soldiers. That was different from the raids, if you’ll remember. On the raids, every dwarf who could walk came to share the fun. It makes me think this burning was strictly a military action, probably the idea of that war chief of theirs, and so it’s their militia we’ll target. Besides, you and the other Sivaks need to take the shape of soldier dwarves, anyway. Then you can infiltrate their ranks and find out their plans.”

  Slith was eager. “When do we go?”

  “Tonight.”

  Slith saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, one more thing,” Kang added. “I’m going with you.”

  Slith stiffened. “If you don’t trust me, sir—”

  Kang was exasperated. “Blast it, Slith, you’ve known me for thirty years! You’ve saved my butt so many times I’ve lost count. Of course, I trust you. But don’t you think a magic-wielding Bozak might come in handy?”

  Slith relaxed. “Yes, sir. You’re right, as usual, sir.”

  “I’ll be meditating, communing with our Queen. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

  Slith nodded, rose, saluted, and closed the tent flap on his way out.

  * * * * *

  Long after dark, the Baaz sentry on duty outside Kang’s tent rapped on the tent pole. “Sir, you asked to be awakened when Subcommander Slith was ready to go.”

  Kang had drifted off into his trance-like sleep of spell preparation. Waking, he felt refreshed, with a whole catalog of magical spells in his mind. His Queen appeared to approve of his plan. He donned leather armor, buckled on a short sword, thrust a knife in his belt.

  Slith and three other Sivaks waited for their commander by the campfire. Slith was handing out strips of red cloth to the other Sivaks. “When you change form, tie this strip around your arm. I don’t want us killing each other by mistake.”

  Slith looked dubiously at Kang. “Sir, what are we going to do with you? You’re not a shape-shifter and, begging the commander’s pardon, but you’ll never pass for a dwarf.”

  “I’ve got a spell that will help. I’m mainly along to make certain that we don’t get into trouble bigger than we can handle.”

  “Sir, I’ve been thinking. We could take the First Squadron—”

  Kang shook his head. “No. The first whiff of dwarf and they’ll go on a killing spree.”

  “Right, sir.” Slith said, resigned. “Let’s go.”

  The five draconians left camp in the darkness. Both moons were waning, although Kang could sense the third moon, the dark moon, waxing—a good omen for the draconians. The ground they covered was familiar. They moved rapidly and silently. When they reached the woods outside the dwarven village, Kang called a halt.

  “I’m going to make myself invisible. The spell doesn’t last long and it’s not complete. Anyone looking for me can find me. You’ll need to cover for me.”

  Kang pointed to six heavily armed dwarves, who were patrolling the main street leading into Celebundin. “Look, they’re waiting for us. Once we’re in, you’re on your own. Meet back at our camp. If you’re not back, you’re considered dead. Move out.”

  Kang spoke words of magic, drew an arcane symbol in the air. One of the Sivaks turned to ask the commander a question, blinked in astonishment and looked all around. The spell was working.

  Slith issued orders. “You two sneak around to the west side and try to get in there. Remember, we only kill warriors. No slicing up civilians. And you’re after information, not dwarf heads.”

  The three Sivaks padded softly into the night. Slith and the remaining Sivak crept over to the side of the nearest building—a small thatch-roofed storage shed. Kang was right behind them, although neither of them knew it. Slith slid forward, around the side of the building.

  Two of the dwarves patrolling the streets marched past the front of the shed. Slith made certain they were wearing uniforms, then he motioned his partner forward. Crossing the street, the other Sivak moved to the front of the shed. Slith crept up to the corner of his building, and waited for the dwarves to return.

  Moments later, the two dwarves came back, walking their beat. As one of the dwarves crossed in front of Slith, the draconian leaped out, grabbed the dwarf, jerked his head back and slit his throat. Using his ability to assume the shape of the enemy he’d just killed, Slith transformed. It was a dwarf who dragged the body of the dead dwarf back into the shadows.

  The second dwarf, hearing the scuffle, turned to see what appeared to be his partner dying at the hands of another dwarf. Before he could yell, the second Sivak leaped out and throttled him. There was a sharp crack and now there were two dead dwarves and two live dwarves who looked exactly like them.

  “Dump the bodies in this storage shed.”

  Kang stood off to the side, waiting to cast a lightning bolt spell in case any of the guards’ comrades showed up. No one appeared.

  “You there, Commander?” Slith asked.

  “I’m here,” Kang answered.

  “All set, then.”

  Slith the dwarf and his new dwarven buddy, each with a red rag tied around his neck, walked up the center of the street, searching for a tavern. They needed to find a place where soldiers were likely to talk freely, and there is no place like a tavern for information. They even had steel in their pockets, enough to buy a few drinks. Compliments of the dead.

  Halfway to the center of the town, they came across the Market Guild Tavern, a squat, two-story building that advertised itself as a “drinking and eating establishment with rooms to let.” Peering in the window, Slith saw several uniforms that matched the one he wore.

  “Go on in. Find out what y
ou can. Meet me outside in half an hour.”

  The dwarf started, by force of habit, to give a draconian salute. Slith smacked his arm. “You’re a dwarf, now. Remember?”

  Chastened, the dwarf changed the salute to a wave and entered the tavern.

  Slith continued on down the street, intending to investigate the center of the village, where the meeting hall was located. It had occurred to him that he might find the war chief here. What better person to ask about dwarven military plans than the head of the militia himself?

  As Slith was strolling down the street, he noticed a female dwarf heading his direction. They would have to pass each other. He steered over to the opposite side of the street, tried to look nonchalant, as if he were out for an evening stroll. It would never do to let her get close to him. He looked like a dwarf, but he still smelled like a draconian.

  The female was staring at him, probably one of those who were attracted to dwarves in uniform. Slith averted his eyes, hoping she would ignore him.

  It didn’t work. She came right up to him.

  “Don’t you try to sidle past me, Harold Brickman! Don’t you try to sneak off! You said you were standing guard duty tonight! That’s why we couldn’t go visit mother! Where’ve you been? In the tavern, I’ll wager. Drinking with your no account friends. I can smell the spirits—” The female closed in on Slith, sniffed.

  It wasn’t spirits she smelled.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Brickman, whatever have you been doing? You smell just like a frog …”

  Her eyes widened. She stared at Slith in horror. In order for the shape-changer spell to work, the victim must be prepared to believe that the person he or she is looking at is a dwarf. Once that belief is called into doubt, for whatever reason …

  The female screamed.

  Slith turned and ran. He dashed past the tavern, where dwarves—the Sivak among them—were wandering out to see what the screaming was about. They spotted Slith racing away. The female dwarf was hysterical. She could only scream and point. The other dwarves, assuming she’d been robbed, set off in pursuit. Slith kept running. Rounding a corner, he legged it for the north end of the village.

  A voice came from behind him.

  “Don’t worry, Slith, I’ve got your back covered,” Kang said.

  Slith had forgotten the commander was with him. He didn’t look back, just kept running.

  “They’re gaining on us,” said Kang.

  “Damn rotten luck!” Slith muttered. He had dwarf legs, not his own powerful draconian legs, and he was falling behind. “You’d think our Queen could look out for us better than this!”

  “Maybe she is,” Kang said. “Maybe she is. Look, there’s an empty house. Duck in there. We’ll lie low till they’ve gone.”

  Slith changed course, ran for the house, with Kang right behind him. The house was of typical dwarven design, made of stone with wooden doors and shutters. No lights shone from the windows. It did, as Kang said, look deserted.

  Slith tried the door handle. When it didn’t give way immediately, he threw his shoulder against the door, forgetting, as he did so, that he had a dwarven shoulder, not a big, muscular draconian shoulder. The door didn’t budge.

  “Hurry up, Slith!” Kang urged.

  They could hear shouts and cries coming very close.

  “Damn door’s got three locks!” Slith said, peering at it. “You better have a go at it, sir.”

  Slith couldn’t see anything, but he felt something large hurtle past him. The door burst open, as if it had been hit by an enormous foot.

  “You go inside! I’ll never fit through the door. I’ll be safe enough out here.”

  Slith dashed inside, hastily shut the door—with its now-broken three locks. He turned around to find that they’d made a mistake.

  The house was not deserted.

  Four dwarves were gathered around a table on which burned a single candle. They were all peering intently at something and arguing among themselves.

  At the sight of the dwarf entering their house, one of the dwarves grabbed the something they had been staring at off the table and appeared to be trying to hide it. The other three tried very hard to look innocent.

  “Uh, hullo, uh, Brickman,” said one of the dwarves, a scrawny fellow with a beard like a fungus. “Out on the town without the little woman, eh? Nice of you to stop by. Next time, though, knock, will you? You’ve wrecked my door.”

  I’ll be damned, thought Slith. I know this dwarf!

  Kang, standing outside the house, heard the voices inside and cursed. “Damn and double damn!” This empty house had seemed the answer to his prayers. Now it did indeed look as if their Queen had forsaken them. He was going to have to find another holy medal.

  If Slith could just fool them for a few moments longer …

  The dwarves in pursuit came pounding down the street. Kang crouched down beneath a heavily curtained window, hoping to be able to hear what was going on inside the house, yet remain hidden in the shadows. His invisibility spell was due to wear off soon.

  The search party straggled to a halt.

  “Where’d he go?”

  “Beats me.”

  The dwarves stood in the middle of the road, staring around. “That’s Selquist’s house. Maybe he saw something. We could ask.”

  “Naw, he’s not home. Look, no lights. What’d the fellow we were chasing do, anyway?”

  “I dunno. Madam Brickman was yelling, fit to be tied. Robbed her, I guess. Did you get a good look at him?”

  “No, you?”

  “Me neither.”

  “He must have left town. You want to go after him?” The dwarf did not sound enthusiastic.

  “What? You heard the war chief. He said those damn dracos are probably skulking about out there, waiting to pick us off one by one. Not me. I’m not going any farther. Let’s head back to the tavern. All that running made me thirsty.”

  After further conversation, the dwarves turned and headed back into town.

  A good thing. Kang could feel the invisibility spell draining away. He could hold it for only another few minutes. At least he was near the edge of town. He could make his escape into the night. He wouldn’t leave without Slith, however, and he wondered what was taking so long. He hadn’t heard any shouts or cries, so he assumed that Slith hadn’t been discovered.

  But if so, what was he doing? Having tea?

  “Damn it, Slith!” Kang muttered. “Come on!”

  * * * * *

  Inside the house, Slith was curious. He recognized these dwarves—they were the four he had followed for two days, the four who had talked of sneaking into Thorbardin. He definitely remembered the skinny dwarf with the scraggly beard.

  These dwarves had raided Thorbardin. They had obviously found something valuable, to judge by the fact that they were being so secretive about it.

  And what was valuable to a dwarf might be of equal value to a draconian.

  “Well, Brickman,” said the scrawny dwarf. “Are you going to stand there all night with your eyes bugging out? What the devil do you want? If it’s about that small matter of the missing pewter pot, I’ve already explained—”

  “We were never anywhere near Thorbardin!” one of the dwarves piped up, his voice quavering. “Ouch!” he said a moment later, and rubbed his arm. “What’d you pinch me for, Selquist?”

  Slith sucked a breath, blew out the candle.

  Dwarves can see in the darkness as well as draconians, but these dwarves had been staring into the candlelight, and it took a moment for their eyes to adjust. Slith took advantage of that moment. Changing form, returning back to his draconian shape, he leapt for the table. He backhanded one dwarf, who was in his way, surged toward the scrawny dwarf.

  The scrawny dwarf could see well enough now, and what he saw terrified him. He stood, clutching something to his chest, paralyzed with fear.

  Slith reached out clawed hands, grabbed hold of whatever it was the dwarf was trying to hide.


  This attempt to steal his treasure jolted the dwarf to action. He hung onto the object with a tenacity typical of a certain species of dog raised by the Solamnic knights to hunt goblins. Slith picked up not only the object but the dwarf along with it.

  “Let go! Damn your hairy hide!” Slith snarled, and attempted to shake the dwarf loose.

  “It’s m-m-mine!” said the dwarf, his teeth rattling in his head.

  Slith gave a tremendous heave, sent the dwarf flying through the air. He landed, from the sounds of it, in a cabinet filled with crockery.

  Object tucked under his arm, Slith ran for the front door. Unfortunately, in his haste and excitement, he forgot that this was a house built for dwarves, forgot that he had entered as a dwarf and that he was now leaving as a seven-foot-tall draconian.

  Slith bashed headlong into the doorframe.

  * * * * *

  Kang, standing outside, heard the yelling, the scuffle and the sound of breaking crockery. He could only assume that Slith had been discovered.

  No use hiding. The commander thrust his head through the open window, in time to see his second-in-command ram his skull into the doorframe and knock himself senseless.

  “Oh, for the love of—”

  Kang dashed around to the front. His spell had worn off by now, but the need for concealment was gone. One of the dwarves inside was screeching like a gnome-powered doomsday device. Every dwarf within miles would be descending on them.

  Slith lay on his back, his feet sticking out the door. He was holding what looked like a book in his arms.

  Two of the dwarves were running toward him, large clubs in their hands.

  “Save the book!” cried another dwarf from the depths of a smashed cabinet.

  “Slith! Wake up!” Kang shouted.

  Grabbing hold of the Sivak’s feet, Kang gave a heave and pulled Slith out the door, just as the two dwarves with clubs were getting ready to finish the job on Slith’s skull which the doorframe had started.