[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
body a single, well-disciplined body the draconians passed from the
shadows into the wintry light. Weak though it was, the sunlight was
welcome to the draconians. They flapped their wings to rid themselves of
the horrible white fluffy stuff, they lifted their faces to the sunshine,
basked in its warmth. Blood that had been sluggish as frozen swamp water
began to flow again. One soldier tossed a snowball at another, and war
was declared. Soon snowballs filled the air thicker than snowflakes, the
draconians hooting and shouting.
Concerned at this breach of discipline, the officers looked worriedly at
their commander, but Kang only grinned and waved a clawed hand. Let
the men enjoy themselves for a few moments at least. They d had little
enough to enjoy these past few weeks.
The only draconians not involved in the snowball fight were those
wearing the fur-lined knapsacks containing the treasure, the most valuable
treasure ever to come to the draconians, a treasure that would be the
salvation of their dying race. Small squeaks and the occasional squall
could be heard coming from the knapsacks; a snout thrust out of the flap
of one, snuffling the air. The baby female draconians felt the warmth of
the sun. Perhaps, hearing the laughter, they wanted to join in the fun, but
Kang worried that even with the sunshine, the air was still too chilly to
allow the babies out in the open.
The babies were growing, they d doubled in size during the five
months since the draconians had rescued them from Mount Celebundin.
The draconians and Kang in particular were extraordinarily protective of
the little ones. The young were rarely permitted to leave their snug
womblike knapsacks. The babies were intensely curious, they had no
sense of danger or self-preservation, they viewed everyone as a friend.
The one day he had permitted the young to be set loose, he d regretted it.
Once outside the protective confines of the knapsacks, the young stood
on wobbly legs, looked at everything with their bright eyes, and
immediately took off in forty different directions. Kang was astonished.
He had no idea little draconians could move that fast. Within seconds, the
babies were into everything rummaging through the rations, leaving
slashing claw marks on the waterskins, tumbling headfirst into the creek.
One sought to make acquaintance with a skunk with disastrous, odiferous
consequences. Another baby cut her foot on a spear and wailed as if she
had been impaled, sending the adult draconians into a panic until they
eventually discovered that the wound was completely superficial.
After that the worst happened. They took a count, discovered one of the
babies missing. The entire army turned the woods upside down searching
for the young female. They found her at last, curled up sound asleep
beneath an overturned shield. By the end of the day, Kang felt as though
he had aged a hundred years. It had been the worst day of his life, and that
counted innumerable battles against humans, dwarves, and elves.
Compared to looking after these children, a fight with a mighty gold
dragon seemed an idyllic respite. He vowed that from then on, the babies
would be kept under close confinement and careful watch.
For the sixth hundredth and seventy-first time, Kang wondered if he d
made the right decision, taking the babies on this long journey. For the
sixth hundred and seventy-second time, his inner self came back wearily
with, What else could you do? You couldn t stay in the valley. You tried
to live peacefully among the other races, and it didn t work. Best to find a
place of your own, far from the rest of civilization where you can retire
from the world and its lunacy, make a home, raise your families.
Squatting on his haunches in the snow, Kang reached for the map
pouch. He pulled out a well-worn map, hunched over it, studied it.
I doubt if the city s moved, sir, said Gloth, peering over his shoulder.
Nope, there it is. He pointed a claw.
Right where it was yesterday. And the day before yesterday. And the
day before that
Very funny, Kang growled. He spread his wings, so that Gloth
couldn t see, and gazed at the map.
It had been drawn by dwarves, and he had to admit that the little creeps
could do two things well in this world: make dwarf spirits and draw maps.
He located the dot that marked the draconians destination, their future,
their hopes. A ruined city, abandoned, probably for good reason, for it was
near Neraka, the former capital of the evil empire of Queen Takhisis. The
dwarves reported that the city was filled with all sorts of terrible beings:
undead, ghouls, skeletal warriors, perhaps even kender. What terrified
dwarves, though, might not be so terrifying to draconians.
Whoever chased out the current inhabitants would have a ready-made
city. All it would take would be a little fixing up, and Kang and his
engineers were experts in that. The dot had taken on such importance that
it seemed to glow every time he looked at it. He had known the trail would
be difficult, for it led through the Khalkist Mountains, but he had not
expected the snows, which were early for this time of year. Kang leaned
back, flexed his wings.
A buzz like an angry wasp except that no self-respecting wasp would
be out in this weather ripped through the map. Had Kang been leaning
forward, as he had been just a split second earlier, the arrow would have
torn through a wing, come to rest in his skull. As it was, Gloth was staring
stupidly at an arrow lodged in his thick, muscular thigh.
Take cover! Kang shouted. We re under attack!
The draconians acted with alacrity, their playful fight forgotten. Those
carrying the young sought the shelter of the woods, their comrades fanning
out to cover them. More arrows sliced through the winter air, some finding
their marks to judge by the yells.
You bozaks! Stay clear of the young! Kang shouted.
The bodies of all draconians are lethal to their killers. The baaz turn to
stone, entrapping the weapon that had killed them. Others turn to pools of
acid. When a bozak draconian dies, he effects revenge on his killer. His
bones explode, killing or maiming anything in the vicinity. The draconians
entrusted with the babies were baaz, who changed to stone.
Kang reached out, jerked the arrow from Cloth s leg. A trickle of blood
followed, but due to the draconian s scales, the arrow had done little
damage. The story would have been different if that arrow had found its
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]