Between Flood and Flame (A Cat Among Dragons Book 6)

by Alma Boykin

  At the bottom of his work files was a request for an audience from Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako, who wished to discuss a matter Ni Drako intended to present to the Planetary Council. Kirlin read it through twice and considered refusing. He was most unhappy with the Lord Defender and did not care to support anything the mammal favored. However, it would also be petty for a planetary councilor to refuse a meeting with the Lord Defender unless their Houses were at feud, which they were not (for now.) Kirlin decided that two sixts was soon enough and so informed his associate. That was the last of his work for the morning and the noble shook the winter stiffness out of his shoulders and went to sit in more comfortable surroundings while he considered the situation with Ni Drako.

  It was complicated, the middle-aged reptile had to admit, and not entirely fair to blame the mammal for Chae’s failure and the results. Especially since King-Emperor Kai-tseera had signaled his support for Ni Drako’s actions and there were no repercussions for either Kirlin or Blee, aside from his sister having one of her shrieking fits. However, Kirlin did not like the talk swirling through court and neither did Blee. “No matter the official word, it still looks bad,” Blee had reminded his brother-by-mating. It did, and could cost both houses status on the social ramp of court. Kirlin rubbed the edge of his muzzle with a talon and pondered what to do. Had Chae’s stupidity been any less public, he or Blee would have honor-challenged Chae’s killer and killed the offender. Was there really any of my genetic material in that idiot’s body, he wondered yet again. He certainly lacked a shred of Kirlin forethought. Perhaps this was the Ancestors’ punishment for succumbing to temptation?

  Damn it, Chae had risen to within sight of becoming Lord Defender! And had failed so utterly that it stung Kirlin even to think about it. At least it was not in combat or with the Imperials. Then I’d never hear the end of it, and I’d have had to kill him myself, if I chose to acknowledge him. Ni Drako had been as discreet as possible, Kirlin gave him that much credit. Damn it to the two hells! And there was the unspoken alliance between House Kirlin and House Ni Drako to consider as well, further complicating matters. Kirlin Lineage owed the Lord Defender an honor debt for avenging the noncombatants killed during the Mercenaries War. But the more recent affront to the honor of Lineages Blee and Kirlin came first, the reptile decided at last. He would listen and consider whatever it was the Lord Defender had in mind. Then he would deal with Rada Lord Ni Drako.

  <> Zabet tapped a crimson painted talon on the side of Rada’s desktop display. <>

  “And since Kirlin is not pleased with lord Ni Drako, Shu is going to be reluctant to contract with Three Whiskers Trading, because I have a part ownership. Instead they will try the Kootnee office first,” Rada finished, frowning at the notice on the screen. “And get shoddy crap, be angry, and come to us if they still want the weavings and more of the cheese.”

  <> the True-dragon added unnecessarily. She and her Pet looked at eachother and at the screen again. There was nothing they really could do without tipping off that they knew a lot more about the affairs of the Great Houses than they were supposed to. “Better to be thought ignorant” as Col. Adamski had been fond of reminding his officers.

  Zabet pivoted neatly, dropped onto all four feet and made her elegant way across the room, flowed up onto the window seat and arranged herself in the thin late-fall sunlight. She’d had the cushions replaced and the dark blue accented the blue in her scales and eyes. And the very luxurious turquoise and lapis-colored tooroi and greetwa wool drape that she kept there “to ward off the chill.” Rada smiled at the scene, then went back to her other work.

  She grew so engrossed in the new maps that it took a mental shout to bring her back to the palace. <> the very irritated True-dragon informed her.

  Sergeant Tauk and the two servants who had brought their food did their best to pretend they had not been standing there for several minutes. “Ah, thank you. On the table there, please,” and she pointed towards the low furnishing with her tail. “Yes, Sergeant?”

  “Captain Keesk sends his regards and asks if you intend to go into the field tomorrow?” In the dim light, the dark grey-brown reptile was almost invisible. Rada approved.

  “Affirmative. And I don’t like the weather forecast.” She flipped the computer display to project and the NCO studied the information now floating against the wall.

  “It looks perfect, Lord Mammal,” he sounded dubious. “Chilly with light winds and a slight chance of rain. That means we’ll probably be in water up to our elimination orifices.”

  The Lord Defender made the forefoot gesture of agreement. “Exactly so, Sergeant. I’ll be needing my heavy winter gear.”

  “Very good, Lord Mammal,” and he bowed himself out.

  Rada and Zabet ate supper with their usual speed. In other words, Zabet savored each morsel, comparing the flavors and textures and spices, while her Pet all but inhaled the food set before her. <> the reptile informed her host.

  “Hungry.” It was an old, familiar non-argument between them. It wasn’t that Rada didn’t distinguish between good food, garbage, and field rations, but she’d been eating on the run for centuries. That and some of the sub-flavors in Azdhagi cooking didn’t appeal to her palate. She literally tasted things differently from the reptiles, in part because of her more sensitive sense of smell and in part because they had a sixth and seventh category of flavor that blurred into ‘bitter’ in Rada’s mouth.

  As the one-eyed woman waited for Zabet to finish, she stewed a bit. Would Kirlin help her? How could she persuade him, aside from using the facts she’d assembled for the entire Council? Bribery was out of the question, moral suasion didn’t apply in this case, and she couldn’t raise Chae from the dead. If she’d even had that skill, she wouldn’t have done it anyway because she’d probably have to kill him again for stupidity.

  All the more reason to go into the field, as far as she was concerned. Rada functioned best when she was in combat or hunting. She knew her place, everyone else knew theirs, and any disputes that couldn’t be solved in the chain of command were solved with bare steel or talons. And she did not have to be nice to people who didn’t like her, and vice versa.

  “I’d be fuck all useless as a diplomat,” she finally said aloud after a last sip of tea.

  Zabet blinked, then finished wiping her talons clean. <>

  “Affirmative,” and Rada set down her cup. As if by magic, two servants appeared: the very young male, Shlaer, assigned as one of her body servants, and a general Palace servant. The two collected the dishes and as used to them as she and Zabet were, Rada sighed but then perked up and continued, saying, “Well, Kirlin is teákack. That may help get this sorted out, or perhaps not.”

  <> Zabet sent.

  “True, very true. That creature never forgot a slight, not even the ones it made up on its own. Whatever became of Zilow, anyway? Last I saw of it the n’geedak was running for cover as fast as its appendages could swing,” Rada mused aloud, frowning.

  Zabet gave her partner a look, as if she should have known. <>

  “That’s that, then.” No one fell out with that particular monastic order and emerged unscathed.

  Meanwhile, as the Lord Defender went back to reviewing maps, in the section of the Palace-Capital complex reserved for the greatest of the noble lineages, Kirlin’s tail went rigid and his neck spines rose in fury. “He called me a what!??”

  “A dekack, Great Lord,” the servant repeated in apologetic tones. “Ni Drako said that it might help his cause.”

  Kirlin dismissed the servitor and stalked to his weapons stand. For that insult he would challenge Ni Drako
right there! The big reptile had one forefoot on his favorite sword when he heard Blee walking in from the other chamber. “Ni Drako has gone too far,” the variegated Azdhag informed his brother-by-mating.

  Yellowish Blee frowned. “What did he do this time?”

  “Insulted both of us. The hair-covered, honorless, common-born storm-catch called me a dekack.” Kirlin managed to keep himself calm and composed, a most impressive feat.

  To his surprise, Blee didn’t react. “You heard that from his own muzzle?”

  That gave Kirlin a pause. “No. From a servant who overheard Ni Drako and his concubine. He was clearing their meal.”

  “Ah. Before you skewer the Lord Defender, sire’s son, have you listened to him talk? I mean listened very closely to him?” At Kirlin’s irritated gesture of negation, Blee swished his tail. “He has a speech impediment, for one. He’s good, I give him credit, but with those malformed jaws he doesn’t really enunciate clearly. For two, he may not have been speaking Azdhagi, especially if he was with his concubine.”

  Kirlin sat back on his haunches. “You have two very good points,” he allowed most reluctantly, releasing his grip on his weapon. “He probably wasn’t, not entirely. I remember my sire saying that Ni Drako had a bad habit of using foreign words when he forgot proper Azdhagi.”

  “Not that you shouldn’t skewer the hairy oaf,” Blee sighed. “But you already have a good reason, Kirlin. No point in taking action based on servant chatter when you don’t need to.”

  “Mpf,” came the reply. Servant chatter had sent Tae-blee into another of her fits that afternoon, which was why Blee had come to dine with Kirlin rather than in his own quarters. “Come look at this, while you are here,” Kirlin half-ordered. “The archivist found a most elegant piece of information for us; one with most intriguing possibilities.”

  Heavy, silent, and un-forecasted snow sifted out of a low, white sky. Actually, Rada thought as she studied the thickening layer of cold, wet snow, it was plummeting rather than falling. Her ears twitched as the wind carried a bit of half-stifled invective and the mammal grinned to herself. Among the Azdhagi, to be called “hair-covered” was a deadly insult, but today her aids and sub-commanders probably wished they did have Lord Ni Drako’s thick double winter pelt. Not that it helped her wade through the heavy white blanket covering everything. It had been cold, but all the forecasters had predicted was cold rain, if anything. Instead the Defenders were learning once again how to deal with the unexpected.

  The Defenders’ commander glanced around to see if her aid had returned from an errand. To her vast surprise, Rada saw Sgt. Tauk walking easily over the top of the snow. That should have been impossible and she blinked her eye to make certain that indeed, the short-legged reptile was strolling along even more easily than his commanding officer. “Sergeant, what are you doing?”

  “Walking, sir.” Tauk was rather literal, Rada had already discovered. He came to a halt and she noted that his feet left only shallow dents in the fresh snow, unlike everyone else’s deep ruts.

  “I can see that, Sergeant. Why are you not sinking?”

  He turned broadside to her and Rada saw a new device strapped to his midsection. A wide belt ran around his winter gear, and a box the size of her hand rested between the belt and his uniform. As she drew closer and peered at the thing, she heard a faint hum and crackle, and caught whiff of ozone. The mammal straightened up and grinned a little. “OK Sergeant, which scaly genius came up with this?”

  “Lt. Neera, sir. He read about something similar in an industrial publication and decided to try and replicate it.”

  Commander Ni Drako made note of the name. “Carry on, Tauk, and if Neera is around, please send him to the field headquarters when he’s finished his other duties.”

  “Yes, Lord Mammal,” the big reptile replied and trotted off, still half-floating above the fresh snow.

  That evening, as she finished the daily briefing, a thin, pale-grey reptile with an unusually long tail reported to the Lord Defender. “Lt. Neera reporting as ordered,” he said after snapping to attention.

  “At ease, Lieutenant,” she told him, watching as he relaxed a fraction. “Sergeant Tauk seems quite happy with his snow-walking device and credits you with it.”

  “Yes, Lord Mammal.” At her tail gesture he elaborated, “Ah that is, I developed it. But I found the idea in a tools-list.”

  “A tools list?”

  He gulped, obviously worried about the Lord Defender’s reaction to his innovation. “Yes, my lord. There was a notice about a batch of variable-mass load-easers that had a defect and I thought . . .” Rada swirled her tail again, urging him to continue. “Erm, that is, ah . . .”

  “What kind of defect, Lieutenant?”

  “The omni-direction feature had been mis-wired and they only had a 180 degree range, my lord.”

  Rada thought for a moment. “So instead of being usable for all directions, only half the field works, in other words? And you thought that the Defenders could make use of that little flaw?”

  He nodded vigorously. “Exactly, my lord. We’d finished an exercise on the eastern coast, around the edge of the Soulsuck Marshes, and this looked like it could help us in the future if I could just figure out how to keep it in place and adjust it for different masses.”

  Rada smiled without baring her teeth. “Very, very good work, Lt. Neera! You solved a problem we’ve been trying to sort out for centuries. Are there any problems with the devices that you’ve found thus far?”

  The reptile drooped a little. “They overheat easily, so we can’t use them in summer or down on the south coast, and there has to be thermal padding between the load-easer box and our uniform. And the batteries only last four hours, or less for really massive reptiles, depending on the amount of weight lifted. But they charge quickly and use a standard equipment cell and charger,” he added in a rush.

  That was still a hell of a lot better than the snow-shoe-like devices they’d been using, Rada thought. “Neera, two more questions. How much do these cost per unit and how hard are they to replicate?”

  He frowned as he thought about it. “We got 500 of the units for 60 klaets each, and the belts and insulation are another thirty klaets? Yes, that’s right. And the tech fabricators have made another fifteen units of different lift strengths so we can experiment with them.”

  Rada smiled more broadly and made a gathering gesture with her forefoot and tail. “Excellent work, Neera. You and the fabricators are to be complimented, as is your supervisor. Very, very well done!”

  The lean reptile almost fainted with relief. “Th—Thank you, Lord Mammal!”

  After the officer left, Rada called Sgt. Tauk in for a word. “Tauk, what is your opinion of the new snow walkers?”

  “They are strange as hell to get used to, my lord,” he admitted. “And it is hard to aim at first, but if you sacrifice some of the lift for stability that problem goes away. Or you practice more. To be honest, my lord, they are a gift from the Ancestors.”

  “Thank you, Tauk. You are dismissed. Go get some sleep; I’ll be up early,” she warned him.

  Before retiring, the Wanderer ran the figures, converting the cost from klaets into the current credit figure. The results were about what she thought. The devices cost more than did the snowshoes, but allowed for much, much greater mobility and combat capability. We can use both. The shoes around camp and for some scouting and rescue operations, and the lifters for combat and times when forefoot freedom is critical. They’d have to sort out bipedal motion and close combat, but that’s what the Defenders’ NCOs and junior officers were for. Rada made some more notes and then rolled up in her heavy coat and fell asleep on the floor of her weather shelter, ignoring the field-portable sleeping platform.

  Aside from a small avalanche on the second day, the exercise went well and Rada Lord Ni Drako felt rather pleased with the state of things. On the fourth day she opted to go out with the scouts.

  They picked their way a
long a frozen stream, watching and listening for intruders. According to the day’s exercise, something had entered the atmosphere without permission and landed at the head of the river valley. The weather and snow cover made remote observation less than effective, and the signals interpreters were not completely certain that nothing was going on. The terrain and avalanche danger made vehicles more problematic than useful this far into the mountains. Thus the scouts waded through shoulder-deep snow as quietly as possible. That meant waist-deep on Rada, who was using snowshoes and carried an avalanche beacon in addition to her usual field equipment. And she also had a little surprise up her sleeve.

  The Azdhag on point had just reached the perimeter of the location of interest and was peering intently through a thermal-vision binocular. Four, three, two, one, the mammal counted down silently. Behind her, a huge figure erupted from a snow bank just uphill of the scouts, rolling more snow down onto the surprised Azdhagi, blinding and separating them. Rada scrambled back out of the way, only to be caught by something. Without thinking she drew both blast pistol and a long knife, twisting and dodging away from her attacker.

  <> A deep voice cursed into the Wanderer’s mind. <> Timon called in a private sending. Rada stayed alert but stopped trying to kill whoever it was that had grabbed her tail. Instead she slipped into a cluster of snow-heavy berry bushes, counting on the unfolding chaos to hide her tracks.

  A colorless muzzle appeared over her shoulder, tinted goggles covering Timon’s silver-pink eyes. <> The True-dragon’s basso echoed in Rada’s mental ears and she winced. <> He moderated his sending.

  <> she complimented the head of Drakon IV’s True-dragon militia.

  The head swiveled around as muffled curses in Azdhag terminated abruptly. <