The Last Battle

by Chris Bunch

  Hal took Storm in a wide orbit, to give distance.

  The red and blacks flew over the breaker line, and a little inland, then dove sharply, and vanished.

  Hal motioned Mariah to dive, too, followed suit, and brought Storm out just yards above the low surf.

  He had no idea what he was looking for in his pursuit of the red and black dragons, except to find their masters, their home city, and plan a strategy from there.

  He knew dragons preferred cliffs and crags for their homes, since flying off was much easier from a height.

  So he landed on a low cliff, dismounted, and used a glass to sweep the surrounding cliffs.

  He saw no sign of dragons.

  Nor did Farren Mariah.

  Hal remounted, and they flew on, inland, over a great plain.

  Finally, they spotted the dragons, far ahead, mere dots, flying steadily to the west.

  Mountains rose from the plain, and the red and blacks flew into them.

  Storm was getting tired, but Hal drove him on. Both his and Farren Mariah's beasts still had hours of endurance in them.

  The dragons disappeared again into the ridges. Hal assumed the red and blacks couldn't keep in the air much longer than his own dragons. He flew to a high crag, landed, and glassed the rugged range, keeping away from the landward side.

  Storm was increasingly nervous, which Hal decided meant he'd seen and scented the wild dragons, so they couldn't be far distant.

  Hal soothed him before creeping to the edge of the crag and glassing the area again.

  Still nothing.

  He went back to Storm, and he and Farren flew on, this time to the highest peak still on a westerly heading. There was a level spot, almost at the summit, and Hal landed, swept the landscape again.

  This time, he found luck.

  Of a sort.

  In the distance, leagues away, was a fairly large plateau.

  On it, he counted ten red and black dragons.

  Hal made a face. He'd hoped to find some sort of city that would tell him who and what led the red and blacks.

  But there was nothing here except rocks that the wild dragons were using for what could only be a temporary shelter.

  That and, here and there, the remains of carcasses that the dragons had fed on.

  There was no sign of a civilized building or even crude shelter.

  Nor, though he looked for almost an hour, was there any sign of Man, or any other being, except the ten dragons.

  Hal thought about what he'd seen, then went to Mariah, who'd landed near Storm and was waiting.

  He told his partner what he'd found, and not found.

  He said he proposed to watch on, and for Farren Mariah to find a shelter, where overhead dragons couldn't spot him, and to return the next day.

  Farren Mariah didn't like it, but obeyed.

  He took off, and Kailas took his pack from Storm, slapped the dragon's butt, and pointed after Mariah.

  The dragon whined, but obeyed.

  Hal watched the two dragons disappear, feeling distinctly unhappy, not to mention slightly terrified.

  He pulled on a jacket, and returned to his watch.

  Two dragons took off, flew toward the sea. Hal guessed it was to resume the watch.

  After a time, two others flew off.

  It was growing late.

  Without any signal that Hal could see, the rest of the dragons took off, and flew in different directions.

  Hal tried to record the compass directions each took, but got only five.

  He had no idea what they were doing.

  But after a time, all returned.

  Some bore prey—an antlered animal like a stag, smaller creatures like wild pigs, large birds.

  The dragons piled the corpses in a pile, watched while two of them fed.

  The two sated monsters left, and then the remaining six fed.

  The feeding wasn't like the general chaos Hal was used to with wild dragons, but relatively sedate, with each dragon taking a body and devouring it, and the remaining bodies evenly divided.

  Two carcasses were left untouched.

  This, again, was new and strange—dragons normally ate everything in sight. But these red and blacks seemed to be saving a meal for the two watching the expedition.

  Those returned at full dark, and ate.

  Then the dragons curled up, and slept like obedient soldiers.

  Hal allowed himself to drowse, woke somewhere in the middle of the night as the watch changed.

  Then there was silence.

  Before dawn, he heard the new guards going out.

  At full light, six dragons took off, and formed a tight, arrowhead-shaped formation. They flew off, to the northwest.

  Hal took a compass reading.

  In about an hour, six other dragons, in the same sort of formation, appeared from the northwest.

  It was as if the guard were changing.

  Hal liked none of this.

  If there were no handlers below, that could only mean that the dragons were ensorceled by a powerful magician or magicians, who could impel obedience either across a distance, or over a time.

  Farren Mariah appeared, flying low.

  Hal motioned him in, hurriedly mounted Storm, and set a course back toward the coast.

  Once he reached it, he flew south along the shore, but didn't find what he was looking for. He turned north, and found, just out of the sight-line of red and black dragons returning to their base, what he'd been looking for: a deep bay that led inland, sheltered by ridges on either side.

  He flew low over it, and it appeared as if the bay was more than deep enough for his ships. Also, there were easy tracks leading inland.

  That would give the expedition a base.

  He swung Storm back out to sea.

  He'd circle around and approach the ships from the east, so the watching dragons wouldn't have a clue what he'd been about.

  Then he'd assemble a stronger force, and follow that compass heading.

  This time he would be after what appeared to be the real dragonmasters.

  27

  Hal wanted to follow the compass lead, which should take him to the lair of the sorcerers, with all his dragons, plus infantry riders for backup, and all four magicians for support.

  But he knew better.

  There was no way his tiny expedition could attack what could only be a great city.

  The only option he could see was to find the wizards' headquarters, then return to the ships and sail back to Deraine, just as Guapur Hagi of the Bohol had wanted.

  King Asir would have to take the next step of mounting an invasion force, trying to make peace with the sorcerers, or whatever.

  Hal thought, were he king, he would try to form an alliance with Sagene and Roche, and then return to this new world, keeping all options open.

  But he thought there would be only one option—to destroy or at least render impotent those who were controlling the red and black dragons.

  Which would likely mean great magic, which, in spite of Limingo's presence, was far beyond Kailas's abilities. The spells to defeat that unknown city would have to be mounted by corps of wizards, since their magic would surely be stopped, and then a counterattack made.

  Hal forced himself to the present.

  If he were only to scout the enemy, he would want to be as little visible as possible.

  That meant a minimal force of dragons and riders.

  Of course his normal flying partner, Farren Mariah, would be one.

  He caught himself, realized he'd best consult the man instead of assuming.

  Hal found Mariah in his compartment and asked him on deck. He took him to the bow and told the lookout he was relieved for a time, and to go below and have a bite to eat.

  "You asked me out here," Farren Mariah said, "in privacy. Assuming you aren't planning to proposition my young sitter, this bodes, modes, not well.

  "Or not safety, at any mayhap."

  "It's not," Hal
said, and told him what he proposed.

  "A better bitter way to die," Farren Mariah said. "And I'd be a damned fool to volunteer."

  "I agree."

  "But if you went bounding off, and got yourself dead, I'd be downcast as all hells," Mariah went on. "So I'm neatly trapped, aren't I?"

  Hal didn't answer.

  "Aaarh," Farren Mariah said. "All right. You've sprung your trap. Who else are you going to suck in?"

  Hal considered.

  "Two more fliers, I reckon."

  "Who?" Mariah asked. "Every fool aboard'll be volunteering."

  Hal grinned.

  "Call 'em together, if you would. And have the others come over from the Bohol."

  While Kailas waited, he went to Limingo, who of course said he would have felt slighted if not given the chance to volunteer, and probably would have cast a spell on the Dragonmaster that would have changed him into, say, a church mouse.

  "Can you do that?" Hal asked in surprise.

  "Not at present," Limingo said. "But my wrath would have been such that I would have developed all kinds of new powers."

  The dragon fliers were on board the Galgorm Adventurer within an hour, and gathered in the wardroom.

  Hal told them what he'd discovered, and what he proposed to do next.

  As expected, the fliers all volunteered.

  Hal was ready for that one.

  He had torn up bits of paper, put them in a flier's hat, and bade everyone to draw one.

  Hal barely noticed that Kimana Balf's hand lingered for an instant longer than necessary.

  She was the first to announce she'd drawn one of the marked bits.

  The second was Aimard Quesney.

  That settled that.

  Quesney insisted that everyone take adequate survival packs, to include dried rations, a waterproofed blanket, matches, and such.

  "We'll not be needing those," Farren said.

  "Suppose your dragon goes down?" Quesney asked.

  "Then I'll be dead, won't I?"

  But he obediently tied a pack to his dragon's carapace.

  Hal would take Limingo with him; the others would carry the rations for the dragons and men.

  His intentions were to fly to the plateau, which he thought was a way camp, then fly on for a day or two, following the compass bearing he'd taken from the dragons headed farther inland, then go to ground and wait for the six dragons being relieved—or so he assumed was what was happening—and follow them to their home city.

  "And how how howly will we keep from having those six dragons fly right up our arse?" Farren Mariah asked. "Not to mention if this great city of magicians happens to turn out to be only one day's flying away from where we start tracking the red and blacks, and we suddenly find ourselves shitting bricks and right over the main Palace of the Magicians."

  "Then," Kimana said briskly, "we're truly screwed, and you can have my collection of manacles."

  "You have a collection of manacles?" Limingo asked interestedly.

  Kimana shook her head, didn't answer.

  "Both your worries will be taken care of by our colleague's magic," Hal said.

  Limingo raised an eyebrow.

  "We'll leave an hour before dawn tomorrow," Hal said. "Anyone who wishes to pray has my permission."

  But the dragon fliers weren't a religious lot—not even Aimard Quesney. Which might have explained why he'd failed at attempting the priesthood.

  Hal gave his final orders, including what was to be done if there was contact with the red and blacks. If that happened, he said, there was no time for nobility. Any unengaged flier was to flee east, toward the ships, with whatever had been discovered.

  He told his fliers to eat, get some sleep, and not think about the morrow, which he knew they would anyway.

  Then he went to the captain of the Galgorm Adventurer, told him he was in charge of the expedition, and that all remaining would obey his orders.

  Hal made a rough sketch of the land they were approaching, told the captain he was to anchor in a bay north of the dragons' flight line, and wait for four weeks. If no one returned in that time, he was to sail for Deraine, and report everything they'd discovered to King Asir.

  The officer told him that Guapur Hagi of the Bohol had signaled he wanted to come over to the flagship. It was very important.

  Hal grimaced. He didn't have time for Hagi at the moment, told the Galgorm's captain so.

  The officer said, skeptically, that he didn't think ignoring Hagi was perhaps the wisest thing.

  Kailas was starting to get a little angry. "I'll take care of him… and whatever frigging problems he has… when we get back. Tell him to put a knot in it for the moment."

  Hal ate, slept well, dreaming of what a city of magicians and dragons might look like, and woke ready for action.

  He'd reluctantly decided that he was depending too much on Storm, and decided to take his other black dragon, Sweetie.

  The four monsters were led, one at a time, down to the barge, mounted, and their fliers took them off.

  As the last of the four was airborne, other fliers on the Bohol Adventurer started making a grand racket, sure to attract the red and blacks' attention overhead.

  Or so Hal hoped.

  He led his flight back east, then turned south and then west in a great loop.

  He set his compass to bring them over land just south of the compass heading the dragons had taken from the fleet to their first base on the plateau.

  When he saw land, he turned south for a dogleg, counted slowly to two hundred, then resumed his course east.

  An estimated hour inland, he turned north, and corrected the dogleg, straightening on the old heading toward the plateau.

  It was full light, and the fliers held their dragons to a moderate speed.

  Below them were the mountains of the coastal range, slowly becoming foothills, and then the great plain spread before them.

  Now Hal took time to observe what lay below him, since he was deliberately holding the formation to a far slower speed than he'd taken before, wanting a bit of warning before they came on something dangerous.

  There were strange trees, and the land was torn by deep ravines.

  It was hot, but not unbearably so at their altitude.

  Hal thought this could be a simple training flight in peacetime, except for the unknown land below them.

  It's so damned big, he thought.

  The horizons seemed as distant as Deraine was to him, even larger than the sweep of the northern tundra he'd seen the fringes of.

  There was a strong wind blowing the tall grass, Hal noted. Then he corrected himself with a chill.

  The grass was moving in a streak.

  There was something hidden under it making the plants move.

  A snake?

  But there couldn't be a snake that large. Hal estimated the creature's length to be well over thirty feet.

  He saw Kimana looking down, then at him.

  She made a face.

  But nothing showed, and they flew on.

  Limingo pointed down and to the left.

  There was a huge herd—Hal guessed at more than three hundred head—of enormous buffalo, or some species of long-horned, shaggy cattle. Hal guessed they would be half as tall as a dragon.

  They were huddled in a ring.

  Hal saw the reason: there were four tawny predators stalking the herd. They were some species of cat, with mottled coats that made perfect camouflage. Their necks were long, and their heads sported great upswept fangs.

  Then he saw something else:

  A deep ravine ran beside the herd. In the ravine, creeping, if cattle could ever be said to creep, were a dozen bulls.

  The cats hadn't seen them.

  It was a case of the stalker being stalked.

  Hal marveled at a land like this—cattle having the courage to attack beasts of prey.

  Sweetie flew on, before the drama was resolved.

  They landed under shelteri
ng trees late that afternoon, not wanting to be in the air at night.

  They didn't chance a fire, but ate their iron rations cold, after feeding the dragons.

  "Ho for the life of adventure," Farren muttered, tearing at a chunk of hard-smoked and spiced beef. "I hope my godsdamned jaws hold up."

  Hal was about to reply when a rustling in the grass outside the clearing made everyone dive for their crossbows.

  After a moment, a creature waddled unhurriedly into sight. It was about half again the size of a domestic pig, and had long quills sticking out in all directions.

  It went straight to Kimana, who'd dropped the fruit strip she'd been eating, picked it up in its jaws, turned around and trundled back the way it had come.

  "So much," Kimana said, "for wild animals' instinctive fear of humans. I think I'll sleep in a tree."

  The next morning, at dawn, they flew on, following the compass heading.

  Far in the distance, purple mountains rose from the plain.

  Just beyond would be that plateau that was the first dragon base.

  Again, Kailas led his dragons on a dogleg north, then east, until he calculated he'd passed the plateau camp. He turned back, and started looking for a hiding place.

  He spotted a grove of trees that would give them concealment, signaled to the others, and put Sweetie into a gentle dive.

  At the last minute, he pulled the dragon up and climbed back for the heights.

  The others needed no explanation.

  They'd seen the danger.

  Suddenly the six dragons ahead dove.

  Hal was about to signal his flight to circle when, from a cave on a cliff face, some fifteen red and black dragons dove down at them.

  They were well and truly ambushed.

  28

  Hal barely had time to shout a warning to Limingo to hold on as he turned his dragon into the red and blacks' attack.

  They evidently weren't used to sudden aggression from foes they badly outnumbered, and the lead dragons in the attack balked, turning a bit aside.

  That gave Hal a target, and he put a bolt into the base of the lead dragon's neck.

  He shrilled, and went down, disappearing into the cloud cover.

  Hal looked to see if there were riders on any of the beasts, saw none.

  Aimard Quesney's dragon had spun, and had a red and black by the foreleg. The wild dragon shrieked in pain, and Quesney fired his crossbow into the monster's gaping jaws.