Draconian Measures

by Don Perrin

She knew she shouldn’t take out her irritation on Cresel, this wasn’t his fault. But he happened to be the only one in range.

  “Can you at least bring us some boards, nails and a hammer,” she asked coldly. “So we can plug up those knotholes?”

  “Sure, Fon,” he said, glad to be able to say “yes” to something. “I’ll have them sent over with breakfast.”

  Our quarters, Fonrar thought, falling back to walk with the others. They’re working on our quarters. Which means they’re working on another prison, this one with thicker walls and a better lock on the door. I’ve had all I can take. I won’t be coddled and doddled any longer! I’ll show them!

  “Show them what?” Thesik asked, and Fonrar realized she’d been muttering out loud.

  “Whatever we can, whenever we can,” Fonrar vowed. “We just need to be ready.” Pausing before they were all herded back into the storage shed, she looked around at the others. “Are you with me?”

  “We’re with you, Commander!” said Shanra and Hanra with simultaneous giggles.

  “The baaz are with you, ma’am,” said Riel.

  “I’m definitely with you, Fon,” said Thesik with a smile. “The others will be, too.”

  “What do we do?” Shanra asked softly, her eyes alight with eager mischief.

  Fonrar glanced back to make certain no guards were in earshot.

  “I’ve made a decision,” she said. “A decision I should have made a long time ago.”

  Cresel was as good as his word. Along with breakfast, he brought boards, nails and hammers.

  A worried Gloth accompanied him. “Are you girls sure you don’t want us to do this? The commander says that we can’t spare the men yet, but I’m certain that by this afternoon—”

  “We don’t want to be gawked at all morning, sir. And we’re perfectly capable of hammering a nail in a board,” Fonrar added. She stood in the doorway, blocking entry with her body.

  “But you might smash your finger,” Gloth said anxiously. “Or break a claw!”

  “We’ll be careful, sir. Thank you for your concern,” Fonrar said and slammed the door on him.

  For once, the sound of the key turning in the lock was reassuring.

  She turned around to find that the efficient and well-organized baaz were distributing the hammers, counting out the nails, and beginning to mount the boards in position. At Fonrar’s nod, the hammering began and within minutes, every single knothole was covered.

  “Is everyone all right in there?” Gloth demanded.

  “Yes, sir,” said Fonrar. “Except for the loss of one eye, sir.”

  “What?” Gloth wailed.

  “I’m kidding, sir.” Fonrar said.

  “I’ll want the hammers back,” Gloth said angrily. “And the nails.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Fonrar twitched one nostril. The others understood. Gloth turned the key, opened the door.

  “Here, sir,” said Fonrar, handing him two hammers and a batch of nails.

  “Where’s the rest?” Gloth demanded.

  “Here, here!” The baaz gathered around, thrusting hammers at him from left and right.

  “I’ll help hold these, sir,” said one, taking a hammer from Gloth and handing him two others in its place.

  “Let me help!” cried another and took that hammer from Gloth and gave him three more.

  Gloth juggled hammers, nearly dropping one on his foot. Turning his head, he shouted for Cresel to come assist him. At that point, one of the baaz accidentally dumped all the nails onto the floor, resulting in a mad scramble to collect them. Gloth fumed and fussed and handed over hammers to his assistant.

  “This is why you females shouldn’t be trusted with tools,” he said, shaking a finger.

  “We’re sorry, sir,” said Fonrar meekly.

  Gloth stomped off, grumbling, no doubt going to complain about them to Commander Kang.

  Let him, Fonrar decided. She had an earful to give the commander anyway. Not that he ever took time to listen to her. She put him out of her mind, straightened her back. They had work to do. Now that the knotholes were covered and no one could see inside, Fonrar took her place in the center of the shed and motioned her troops to gather around her.

  “All right, what’s the news?” she asked. “Anyone hear anything?”

  One of the kapaks rose to her feet. “Yes, commander. I overheard Slith telling Cresel last night that Commander Kang told him that according to the general the goblins weren’t driven off. They’re regrouping and the commander expects them to attack the fort. Not right away, but soon.”

  Fonrar nodded. “Good work, Kasi. Anyone else hear anything?”

  One of the bozaks raised her hand. “I heard Gloth tell Fulkth that Slith told him that we were going to stay around here just long enough to help them rebuild and whip the gobbos and then we’re moving on to Teyr as the commander planned.”

  “Well done, Ogla. Anything else to report? Nothing?”

  Fonrar looked to the baaz draconians. “How’re our supplies?”

  Riel reached into a bedroll, withdrew a piece of flat stone on which she’d made notations, and stood up to report. “We had a good haul yesterday, ma’am. The males stowed all the armor and weapons from the dead in the supply wagons and so we were able to add quite a bit to our stash. We have harnesses and dirks enough for everyone now and almost enough helms, though two of them are badly battered and will require work to repair. We’re still short on swords. The males took the good ones for themselves, but we managed to snag one that has a notched blade and two goblin swords for a total of ten. We have one battle-axe with a cracked handle and four hammers—newly acquired.” Riel grinned, showing her teeth, and resumed her seat.

  “We have to have more weapons,” said Fonrar. “That will be our first priority. We can’t do much about it while we’re cooped up in this damn shed, but once we have our own private quarters, we’ll be able to resume foraging. With all the draconians in this fort and all the weapons lying about, it should be simple for the sivaks to slip out and pick up what we need.”

  “Why do the sivaks get to go all the time?” one of the bozaks complained, particularly offended by Shanra’s smirk of triumph at being allowed to go into the fort. “Why can’t one of us go?”

  “Because for some reason the sivaks can walk about among the males and no one pays them the least bit of attention,” Fonrar replied. “And it only seems to work for sivaks. The one time I tried it, Gloth spotted me immediately. I had to do fifty push-ups. Besides, I’m going to want you bozaks to work on your magic.”

  Now it was the bozaks turn to smirk and the sivaks turn to sulk. This resulted in some good-natured shoving and jibing, giggles and laughter.

  Fonrar watched them, let them be children for a moment longer. When she next spoke, their childhood would end, as hers had ended out in that canyon when she had realized that, for the first time, she had been on her own, with no males around to protect her.

  “Listen up, all of you,” Fonrar said, her tone sharp. “This isn’t playtime. Not anymore.”

  The females ceased their antics, looked at her in astonishment, startled at her tone.

  “I’ve made a decision,” Fonrar said. “We’re going to start military training.”

  “With the commander?” Hanra asked excitedly.

  “No,” said Fonrar, shaking her head. “The commander won’t teach us. We have to face that fact. We’re going to start training on our own.”

  The females watched her, eyes wide. They understood the import of what she was saying. Understood that from this moment on, their lives would never be the same.

  “None of the males will teach us,” Fonrar continued bitterly. “They think they have to take care of us, like they did when we were little. That was fine when we couldn’t take care of ourselves. Someone had to watch over us, just like someone watched over the males when they were little. But that ends now. Today.”

  She looked around at her troops. Thesik was grave, serio
us. Shanra and Hanra exchanged glances and moved closer together. Some of the baaz lowered their heads.

  “I understand how you feel,” said Fonrar, her tone softening. “This is frightening. I’m scared myself. But this is a step we have to take. Do you realize how close we came to dying out there? If the males had all been killed, what would have happened then? The gobbos would have come for us next. And we could do nothing to defend ourselves! Nothing!”

  “What made you decide this, Fon?” Thesik asked.

  “It was when you and I were out there in that canyon,” Fonrar answered. “We had no weapons and no training to use weapons even if we’d had them. We were lucky. Damned lucky,” Fonrar emphasized. “Lucky that we ran into more of our own kind. That could have easily been a patrol of hobs out there and then neither Thes nor I would be here today. None of us would. We would all be dead.

  “You heard Kasi’s report. You heard that the goblins are regrouping. They’re going to attack again, this time in greater numbers. We have to be ready to defend ourselves. We can’t count on the males being around all the time to keep us safe. And so each of us should be ready to face any challenge that might come. Are you with me?”

  The males would have answered with a rousing shout. The females could not. A shout would have brought Cresel inside to see what was going on.

  “Yes, Fon,” they said softly.

  “One by one,” said Fonrar. “Each of you say it back to me.”

  “I’m with you, Fon,” said Thesik.

  “I’m with you, Fon,” said Shanra and Hanra together.

  One by one, the others gave their affirmation.

  “So,” Fonrar continued when all had replied, “no more fun and games. This is for real. But we’re going to keep our training secret. We don’t want to worry the commander,” she emphasized. “He’s got enough on his mind. Agreed?”

  All nodded solemnly.

  “Good. Now, orders for the day. I will lead the baaz and kapaks in sword drill. We don’t have room enough in here to use weapons—I don’t want to skewer anyone. But we’ll make do as best we can. You bozaks, I want you to practice your magic spells. You better not cast any fire spells inside this shed. But you can practice some of the less incendiary. You sivaks start turning those extra boards into wooden swords for future drills. And Hanra, stow that damn rabbit pelt! I don’t want to see it again! Ever!”

  Hanra and Shanra exchanged glances. This was a new Fonrar, a serious Fonrar, a Fonrar who wasn’t going to put up with any nonsense. Hanra stuffed the contentious pelt in her bedroll. Shanra, who would have ordinarily offered an argument, kept her mouth shut.

  The baaz and kapaks began clearing out a space that they could use for the drill.

  “Let me know when you’re ready,” Fonrar said to Riel, who nodded.

  Fonrar pried loose one of the nails on a board and peeped out the knothole. A few draconian males still lingered, hoping to get a glimpse of the females, but most had departed. Either they had assigned duties to perform or they had decided that the females weren’t all that interesting. From her vantage point, she could see their own troops working busily to construct the temporary quarters. She tried to spot Commander Kang among them, but couldn’t find him. She hoped his wounds weren’t troubling him.

  Some kapak spit would have cured him right up. The females had discovered that the saliva from the kapak females could heal wounds quite miraculously. They’d found out accidentally, when one of the kapaks had been playing too near the fire—after being told not to—and had badly burned her hand. Fearing she would get into trouble, she’d hidden the fact that she was hurt from the males. She’d licked the wound to ease the pain and was amazed to see the burn immediately heal. Since then, when the females were hurt, they used “kapak spit” to mend the cuts, scrapes, burns or wounds.

  Fonrar had tried to tell this to Slith, but the sivak had said sternly that the commander wasn’t to be bothered.

  “His wounds are bad enough,” Slith had said. “You’re not going to make him worse by slobbering on him.”

  “What do you want me to do, Fon?” Thesik asked, coming to stand beside her. “You didn’t give me any orders.”

  Fonrar couldn’t explain why, but she found it difficult giving Thesik orders.

  “You could practice your magic spells,” Fonrar suggested.

  Thesik shrugged. “I really don’t need to practice. The magic’s all so easy.” She wasn’t bragging, merely stating a fact. “I’ve memorized all the spells the bozak males taught the others. From the very first day I could cast them perfectly. Thanks to one of them I can make you believe you’re seeing anything I want you to see. It’s lots of fun. I was thinking of trying it on Gloth. You know how terrified he is of snakes. Anyhow, Guelp said that I could probably learn really difficult spells—male auraks are powerful magic-users seemingly. But I’d need someone to teach me.” Thesik eyed her friend. “You could practice your magic, Fon. I’d be glad to help.”

  Fonrar shook her head. “No, thanks, Thes.”

  “But you really should,” Thesik argued. “You might need to use magic someday. It could save your life.”

  “Commander Kang doesn’t rely on magic,” Fonrar said. She put her eye back to the knothole, hoping to see him.

  “But he used to use magic,” Thesik said. “Guelp told me so. He told me how the commander would pray to the Dark Queen for his spells before battle and how he used them more than once to save himself and his men.”

  “He prayed to the Dark Queen,” Fonrar responded, turning from the knothole. “When she left, his magic left with her. That’s why he doesn’t use it, Thes. The magic was part of his faith and now that his faith and trust in the Queen are gone, so is his magic.”

  “But it’s not!” Thesik argued. “The other bozaks thought that, too, but then they found out that they can still cast magic spells!”

  “And not one of them has ever told the commander,” Fonrar said gravely. “Right?”

  Thesik didn’t answer.

  “Right?” Fonrar repeated gently.

  Thesik gave a shrug. “Yes, you’re right.”

  “They haven’t told him because they know it would hurt him, Thes. That’s how I feel. I know it would hurt him. And so I’ll never use the magic. Never.”

  “But you let the bozak males teach it to the others,” Thesik felt called upon to point out.

  “Because, as you said, it might save their lives someday.”

  Thesik regarded her friend in exasperation. “I give up. You’re every bit as stubborn as the commander.”

  “Thank you!” Fonrar smiled, pleased with the compliment.

  Riel saluted. “Troops ready, Fon.”

  Fonrar looked back, saw the baaz all standing at attention in the first row, as they’d seen the males. The kapaks stood at attention in the second row.

  “Very good, Riel,” Fonrar said. “Take your place.”

  Fonrar walked up to the front of her troops, turned to face them. She stood at attention in front of them.

  “Now, when I give the command ‘draw,’ I want each of you to drop your right hand to your left side, wait for a count of three, then draw your sword and hold it in front of you.”

  She took hold of one of the baaz’s swords, demonstrated the move, then gave the sword back.

  “Right! You know what it looks like. Now we try it.” Fonrar took a step back. “Squad, draw!”

  The females reached for their swords. After considerable fumbling, they eventually managed to draw their weapons and most hung onto to them. Fonrar shook her head.

  “No, no! Together! We draw together! This time, we’re going to try it with everyone calling out the time. When I say draw, you drop your hand to the hilt and say ‘One.’ Then you wait, count ‘two, three,’ and then draw your sword and say ‘One!’ You perform actions on the count of ‘one’ and prepare for actions on the ‘two, threes.’ Got it?”

  Some nodded. Others did not. Fonrar kept them at it for two
hours, non-stop, first with the draw, and then with the thrust.

  At first, she had been worried about the noise they were making—claws scraping on the hard-packed dirt floor, wings rustling, swords clattering, the females grunting with exertion. But the daily business of the fort apparently masked the sounds the females were making, for no one bothered them.

  Drill continued.

  * * * * *

  The draconian engineers had chosen as the site for their temporary quarters the charred and blackened spot where the field hospital had once stood. The draconians in the fort had kept meaning to clear away the debris and rebuild, but somehow never managed to find the time to get around to it. They had even cut and stacked the logs, but nothing had been done after that.

  Kang wisely kept to himself what he thought of such slovenly and slip-shod behavior. Had he been in command, clean up and rebuilding would have been started before the debris was cool to the touch. As it was, he said that undoubtedly the draconians had more important matters to attend to. Prokel agreed, though he seemed to be at a loss as to what these might be.

  Prokel’s procrastination proved to be a blessing for Kang. The supply of logs was already on hand and the wood was well seasoned. He drew up plans for an H-shaped structure that would be quick to build and suitable for their needs. One vertical side of the H would be barracks for the troops, the other officer’s quarters. The horizontal bar would be the common area with the mess hall. He added a separate building off the horizontal bar for the females. While Kang and Fulkth drew up the architectural plans, Slith and the officers had the men clear away the debris and clean up the building site.

  They had to halt briefly to deal with the crisis created by the fort’s draconian males mobbing the area to gawk at the females. An irate Kang sent a respectful but firmly worded request to General Maranta asking for help in dealing with the situation. Soon, the Queen’s Own arrived, and the other draconians disappeared like so many rats racing back to their holes. Vertax came around to Kang’s tent to offer his apologies and assurances that nothing like this would occur again.

  “The boys were just curious to see the females. You can’t blame them, really,” Vertax added defensively, having taken a quick peek himself. “Most of us had no idea that female draconians even existed. Now that we’ve seen them, I’ve no doubt that will put an end to the curiosity. After all, the females don’t look any different from us, do they?” He sounded disappointed.