by Don Perrin
“Move out.”
Kang ordered Gloth to pass the order, which would be done by each draconian whispering the command to the next in line. “I want absolute quiet,” Kang reiterated. “Anyone so much as coughs—no dwarf spirits for the next two months.”
This was a terrible threat, and completely unnecessary, as Kang knew. His troops were well disciplined, well trained, and these were the best of the best. The draconians moved out of the north end of the wood, marching along after the dwarves.
Kang led the troop up the rocky entrance to the well-worn path that wound over the edge and down the side of Mount Celebund. Every time they topped a rise, he could see the line of dwarves, their bodies glowing faintly red in his sight, trailing down the mountain ahead of him.
They’d marched about six hours and had just completed the crossing of the pass, when the dwarves called a halt. They settled themselves in a glade, pulled out waterskins, and rested from their labors.
Kang stopped the troop. Slith moved forward.
“What is it, sir?” he asked.
“Down below the ground opens up. We have to cross a meadow. We should increase the distance between our two parties. At this rate, we should still reach Mount Bletheron by sunrise. Are they following the same path they took the first time?”
“Exactly, sir.” Slith’s tongue flicked over his teeth. “I was right. They’re leading us straight to their secret entrance.”
Kang’s troop waited for the dwarves to move on. Half an hour later, the dwarves packed up and continued their march.
The draconians reached the approaches to Mount Bletheron as the sky began to lighten.
“We’d better stop and take cover here,” Kang said. “Once it’s daylight, any dwarf who so much as turns his head to look behind him will see us.”
The draconians crouched behind boulders or lay down beneath bushes. Most fell asleep. Kang and Slith took turns keeping watch.
The morning passed without incident. When the sun had reached its zenith, was burning down on them as if it meant to roast each one alive, Kang decided that the dwarves had an adequate head start. He woke everyone up. After a cold meal, they were on their way again. They crossed the pass over Mount Bletheron just as the sun began to set.
Kang was beginning to worry. He had set his best trackers on the trail and they reported no sign of the dwarves. Of course, it was difficult to track anything among the rocks and boulders. One thousand dwarves could have marched through here without leaving a trace. But Kang fretted and fumed. What if Slith was wrong? What if the dwarves had struck off on another path?
Kang motioned for Slith and Gloth to move up to join him at the front of the line.
“I let them get too far ahead. We have to make up some time. The dwarves are a good half-day’s march ahead of us. They didn’t stop last night, so my guess is that they’ll stop and rest tonight. Do you know where?”
Slith nodded. “They’ll probably camp in front of the Helefundis ridge, on the other side of Mount Prenechial, just like they did when I followed them last time.”
“They’re going to spot us once we start to cross the ridge. We can’t hide up there,” said Gloth. “And we can’t let them get too far ahead, or they’ll sneak into Thorbardin, and we’ll never find their entrance.”
Kang nodded. “Don’t worry about that. I have a spell in mind that will solve that problem. Our first objective is to make certain we’re on the right trail!”
The troop marched on. By midnight, they had crossed Mount Prenechial, and were climbing the approach to Helefundis Ridge. Kang was picking his way through a clump of boulders, thinking that this would be a good place to camp for the night, when he nearly stepped on a slumbering dwarf.
Kang stopped so suddenly he very nearly tumbled snout first down the mountain
His first thought was: At least we’ve found them.
His second: the dwarves have found us.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Moving slowly and carefully, testing his footing with every step, Kang crept backward. If he dislodged so much as a pebble, it would go bounding down the mountainside and give them away. When he was out of sight of the sleeping dwarf and within sight of his men, Kang made frantic hand signals, ordering an immediate halt.
The draconians froze where they stood, tense and wary.
While Kang listened for sounds of alarm from the dwarven encampment, he searched desperately for cover for his troop. On the other side of the path, a stand of half-dead bushes clung to the rock. He glided toward the bushes, using his wings to take the weight off his feet and reduce both the noise and the possibility that he might slip and fall. The troop was right behind him, marching in single file.
Circling the bushes, the draconians crouched and lay down on the other side.
Slith was last in line. Kang had not spoken a word, but every soldier had guessed what had happened.
“I don’t think anyone heard us,” Slith whispered.
Kang nodded in response. He had feared the dwarves had sent an ambush for them, but that didn’t appear to be the case. He let himself breathe again.
Slith drew his sword, then lay down to hide. Kang did the same. The draconians waited. This time, no one fell asleep.
There hadn’t been a cloud in the sky for months, but Kang thought that the Dark Queen might take an interest in their cause and send a storm along the next day. It would be difficult for the dwarves to discover they were being followed in a driving rain storm and the draconians could sneak close enough to see where the dwarves entered the mountain.
But if Her Dark Majesty was taking an interest, she wasn’t bothering to help. Morning broke, clear and sunny. Kang swore silently to himself. A blind dwarf could see them in weather like this.
They heard sounds from the dwarven camp. Kang risked raising up, spotted two dwarves performing their morning ablutions behind a rock. Then came sounds of pot-banging and cheerful swearing. The dwarves were cooking breakfast. After that, they packed up and left.
Kang kept his men hidden, waited two hours before he permitted them to move. He ordered the troop to eat, sent out a patrol to scout.
The patrol returned with good news. “We could see them from a distance, strung out along the ridge. They should be to the other end before nightfall, sir.”
“Slith, Gloth, over here.” Kang spelled out his plan. “We’ll cross the ridge tonight using cover of darkness. I don’t think we have to worry about being seen. We’re close to Thorbardin. Their secret entrance must be near, and the dwarves will probably be underground before we even reach the ridge. Once we’re there, we’ll wait until daylight to search for the hidden entrance. I’ll ask our Queen for my spells.”
All went as planned. The troop reached the ridge, never seeing a dwarf, confident that the dwarves had not seen them.
Kang made certain his men were settled, saw the watch posted. Rummaging in his pack, he drew out his newly restored holy symbol and, holding the medallion fast in his hand, he began to climb up a dry creek bed, the water having long ago vanished in the hot, brittle summer. He’d caught a glimpse of what he thought might be a cave up there—the perfect place for him to use to commune with Her Dark Majesty.
The creek bed wound around a large flat ledge that jutted out over the place where his men were resting. The going was a bit difficult here. Kang was forced to use hands, feet, tail, and wings to help him over the last little stretch. He made it and had just straightened, was wiping his hands clean, when he was suddenly aware that he wasn’t alone. Someone was up here, someone was hiding in that cave.
Human, to judge by the smell. A smell that was familiar.
Kang was an easy target, standing on the ledge in full sunlight. Well, there was no help for it.
Cursing his own carelessness, he peered into the darkness of the cave.
“You can come out, Huzzad,” he said quietly. “I know you’re in there.”
At first, he heard no sound of movement and he tensed,
waiting for the arrow to come flying out of the darkness, the arrow that would end his life.
He could always shout for help. Slith and his Sivaks could fly up the mountain, whereas Kang had been forced to climb. They wouldn’t arrive in time to save their commander, but they could at least exact vengeance on his slayers.
But no, Kang reasoned. This didn’t make sense. If there was a squad of archers on their trail, they would have killed him long before this. Killed him and all the rest. And, now that he was closer, he only smelled one human. Huzzard was alone. Perhaps she expected the draconians to be intimidated by her authority, her rank and standing as a knight of Takhisis, maybe even the fact that she was human. Perhaps she figured they’d be so impressed that they would just meekly surrender.
Kang raised his hands, opened them. “I’m not armed. My men are asleep down below. It’s just you and me, Huzzad. If you’ve come here to settle the score, let’s settle it between the two of us.”
The knight emerged from the cave.
She was clad in leather armor, not plate mail, with leather breeches. Her arms were bare. She wore no shirt, due to the heat. She was dressed for stealth, for tracking, not armored for battle. Her red hair hung in two limp braids down her back. She wore her sword, but she kept it sheathed. Her hand was on the hilt, however. Standing in the shadows of the cave, she regarded Kang with cool speculation. Then she motioned.
“Come inside, out of the sun. I’m alone,” she added.
“I’m not,” said Kang dryly. “I have twenty men down below. Twenty men who would like nothing better than to see those red braids of yours hanging from their belts. We’re not going back, Sir Knight. There’s nothing you can do or say that will make us change our minds. We’re warriors. Not crap-hole diggers. And we’re sure as hell not going to go back and be executed as deserters.”
Huzzad tilted her head, squinted to see him. The sun was fierce, beat off the rocks. “But that’s what you are, Draconian. Deserters.”
“No, ma’am.” Kang was emphatic. “We agreed to join up on terms that we would work as engineers. Your commander accepted our terms, then he went back on them. In a manner of speaking, you might say that the lord knight deserted us.”
The corners of Huzzad’s mouth twitched and then, to Kang’s amazement, she began to laugh. She laughed until tears came to her eyes. She wiped her hand over her eyes, removed her hand from her sword hilt.
“I would dearly love to see my lord’s face when you presented that argument, Kang.” Sighing, she shook her head. “Who knows? Perhaps my lord is no longer still alive. I am not here to exact punishment on you and your men, Commander. True, I was sent to find you and I have been following you for days. If I had wanted to kill you before now, I could have done so. You admit that?”
Kang gave a brief nod, kept his eyes on her.
She seemed to find what she next had to say somewhat difficult. She ran her hand through her sweat-damp hair, stared out over the horizon. “I am ordered to tell you that your role in the Army of Takhisis has been reevaluated, Commander.”
Kang grunted. “Oh, so now you have a job for us to do. A dirty one, I’ll bet. Will we need shovels?”
She flushed in anger, but it was quick to pass. Her gaze came back to Kang. “Strange and terrible events are happening in this world.
Events of which you know nothing, or so I’ll wager. Come inside, please, Commander. We have to talk.”
Kang shrugged and entered the cave. It was shallow, more a depression in the rock than a true cavern. A quick glance revealed that she was telling the truth. Huzzad was alone. Kang settled himself on the ground. Huzzad sat down on a small boulder near him.
Clasping her hands, she rested her elbows on her knees. Kang noted that the knuckles of her hands were white. Out of the glaring sun, he saw new lines of strain and tension on her face.
She had called him in here to talk, yet now she remained silent, pondering.
“You said something about your lord being dead. The elves proved tougher than you’d thought, apparently,” Kang said.
“Elves!” Huzzad snorted. “Tough! Qualinesti fell to Lord Ariakan’s troops before our division even arrived. For the first time in the history of Krynn, Kang, the forces of Her Dark Majesty control Ansalon. Oh, certainly, there are pockets of resistance. Thorbardin, for one. But the dwarves are bottled up inside and are no threat to us, so we’re letting them be. The High Clerist’s Tower is ours, as is Palanthas and all the rest of Solamnia. The cursed dragons of Paladine have been forced to flee.
“Southern and Northern Ergoth are ours; we control the high seas. Pax Tharkas has fallen, Solace is ours, even Kendermore.” She grimaced. “Pity the poor knights who have duty there. Victory is ours, Kang. Victory for Her Majesty.”
Kang drew in a deep breath. He had known the knights were good, but he hadn’t expected anything like this. Victory, at last. The knights were the conquerors of Ansalon.
Takhisis would rule.
Then why Huzzad’s white-knuckled grip? Why had she been sent by her commander to find the draconians? Why had she doubted if her commander was alive? The war was won and good as over. Kang had an alarming thought.
“Your lord doesn’t intend to post us in Kendermore, does he?”
“No.” Huzzad smiled, a fleeting smile. She was again quiet a moment, then said abruptly. “My lord told you of the Vision?”
Kang nodded, wondering why the sudden shift in subject.
“The Vision gives each knight a clear understanding of the goals of the knighthood,” Huzzad explained. Her gaze shifted to the bright sunlight beyond the cavern. “The Vision reveals the knight’s own part in Her Dark Majesty’s plan. The Vision comes first at our investiture, and then many times after that, changing and flowing with the river of time.”
Her gaze shifted back to Kang. A line furrowed her brow. The knuckles of her clasped hands grew even whiter, as if the skin had been peeled back, revealing bare bone.
“My lord has, these past two weeks, experienced a new and frightful Vision, Kang. And he is not the only one. The same Vision came to many of us in the knighthood.”
Ah, now we’re getting somewhere, Kang thought. “And what is this Vision, Sir Knight?”
“The High Clerist’s Tower is under attack—”
“Solamnic knights,” Kang said with an oath.
“No, not the knights. In fact”—she paused, sounding awed—“the Solamnics fight at our side! We fight against horrible creatures, demons that are not of this world. Or perhaps they are of this world, but have been held prisoner in the fathomless darkness below the Abyss, prisoner until now. Now they swarm over the walls of the High Clerist’s Tower. Each person they touch becomes as nothing. Not one memory of their existence is left behind. It is said that even the dead fear these demons.
“Lord Ariakan falls, mortally wounded. The Gods are fighting in the heavens. The Gods are fighting, and they are losing.” Huzzad’s voice was hushed, as she spoke. Her face was pale, her eyes rapt and staring. She was seeing the Vision again in her mind. “A band of heroes rides forth to do battle with the Father of the demons. The Father of All, the Father of the Gods. Chaos. He has sent these fiends to destroy us, to obliterate our sun from the heavens, to return us to the Void of which we were made. No memory of us, of any of us, will remain.”
A shiver made Kang’s scales click. The draconians might well perish as a race, if their quest for the eggs failed, but at least there would be those who would remember them. Their deeds during the War of the Lance were even now being sung by bards all over Ansalon. The songs weren’t particularly complimentary and mostly told of how some hero or another had bested the Dark Queen’s evil minions. But at least someone would be here to remember. At least someone would be here to sing.
Kang tried to imagine Nothing. All the pain, the suffering, the love, the hatred, the laughter, the gallantry, the heroes, the ordinary, all for Nothing, reduced to Nothing.
“What happens?” Kang ask
ed, his mouth dry.
“The heroes are defeated,” Huzzad said softly. “The world falls into the hands of Chaos, and he crushes it and wipes the dust from his fingers.”
Kang blinked. “So that’s the end for us? What do we do? Sit here and wait to die?”
“We do not,” said Huzzad sharply. She shook off the Vision, snapped back to duty. “The Vision changes as Time changes. What I have seen in the future may never come to pass. It may only partially come to pass, or it may never come to pass at all. We are instrumental in shaping the Vision. In a way, we are most honored, for we are given the opportunity to fight alongside the Gods. You are going to Thorbardin, aren’t you, Commander?”
She slid that one in so swiftly that Kang was caught off guard. He recovered, shrugged, and said, “We are? That’s news to me.”
Smiling, Huzzad reached out and took hold of Kang’s clawed hand. He stared, astonished, at the firm, thin and calloused fingers that gripped his scaley hide. It was the first time human flesh had ever voluntarily touched his. Her hand was warm, and her grasp strong.
“You were in my Vision, Kang. That is why the commander sent me to find you. I have a message to give to you. A message from Her Dark Majesty.
“She is well pleased with you, Commander Kang. You have survived in a hostile world for many years and, in all that time, you have remained loyal to her. You have shown intelligence and wisdom. Others would have killed the dwarves in your valley. But you, by permitting your enemies to live, have, in turn, lived off them. Your wisdom has been rewarded. The dwarves have stumbled across a valuable treasure, very valuable, indeed. And I do not mean steel or jewels.”
Kang stared at Huzzad. His hand trembled. Huzzad could not have known about the dwarves. Kang had never told her anything about them. Certainly she could not have known about the treasure map. This message was, indeed, from the Queen. Kang bowed his head, humbled and grateful.
Huzzad’s grip on his hand tightened.
“Inside a chest decorated with my symbols are ten dragon eggs: two gold, two silver, two bronze, two brass, two copper. They contain female draconians. The females are alive, or rather, they will be when the final spell is cast.”
