Steven Brust - Dragon

Loiosh spotted the enemy pickets and guided us past them. I don't think any of my little band figured out what Loiosh was up to; they just followed me. That was best. Once past the pickets, we had to remain hidden until Loiosh and I could identify the cook-tent. We entered the enemy camp and I had them wait while Loiosh and I searched. The supply wagons were near the mess-tent, which was both good and bad for my purposes. The cook-tent was less than thirty yards from the river, which was good.

"Well? Are they guarded?"

"Four guards, Boss. Moving rightwise around the wagons and the tent. You want to try the same trick we used last time? That was fun."

"No. Too much danger they figured it out. And I won't discuss your idea of 'fun'."

"What then?"

"We wait"

"Clever, Boss. Do you think if I had opposable thumbs I could come up with plans like that?"

"Shut up, Loiosh."

I returned to where my compatriots were hidden, and, in the flickering half-light of the enemy campfires I indicated that we would just be sitting there for a while. I couldn't see their expressions. I was just as glad.

It was neither warm nor pleasant, but they were used to waiting for action, and, for that matter, so was I. We waited a little more than two hours for the guard to change, assuring us of several hours before they were relieved again. I had their movements figured out. And there had been no one checking on them. Loiosh said, "If this had been your operation, Boss, you'd have gotten all the details before you went to work."

"If this had been my operation, Loiosh, I would have hired someone else to do it."

I signaled to my temporary squadron that they should stay there, and I moved a little closer to the guards. I drew a dart from my cloak, waited for the guard to pass by me, then threw the dart into his back. He cursed.

"What is it?" said someone.

"Something bit me."

"Bees sleep at night."

"Well, that makes me feel better."

"I'm just saying—"

"I better see the surgeon; I'm starting to feel queasy."

"You have any allergies?"

"Not that I know of. What is there that bites around here?"

He didn't get an answer, because the woman he'd been talking to was out cold by this time. At least out cold, maybe dead, because a blow to the top of the head with the hard pommel of a dagger can kill, even if you don't intend it to. Fortunes of war and all that. And then, as the man succumbed and collapsed, I stuck a dart into the woman to be certain—the poison on the dart probably wouldn't kill her, but it wouldn't make her feel any better, and, in any case, neither of them would wake up any time soon. I hoped I hadn't killed either of them; I hate killing people I haven't been paid for. Were this a Jhereg operation, it wouldn't have come up. Jhereg operations are cleaner.

So, okay, you don't need the details; I took care of the other two guards as well, and I didn't kill either of them for sure, though I may have hit one a bit too hard …

Oh, skip it. I went back to the others and motioned for them to follow me.

The rest of the job involved one decision: Was it safer and easier going to the water or from the water? One was quicker, the other safer; I opted for quicker. I was fairly certain I could vanish into the night if by chance I was seen, but I doubted my companions could. I called them close and whispered, "If there's an alarm, we go straight into the river, drop everything, and swim downstream as far and as fast as we can, okay? Remember to get rid of your boots."

They nodded. I didn't think they were very pleased with the prospect. We entered the mess-tent and took care of business there, which took only a few minutes. While we did so, I had Loiosh smell the wagons so he could tell me which ones we were interested in.

"Three of them, Boss."

"Good show."

I left the tent first and looked around in spite of Loiosh's assurance that all was clear, then I led my little band over to the wagons and pointed out the ones we wanted. There was a little more light here, and I could see them wondering how I knew. I resolved not to tell them.

We dumped kerosene over them. Now was when we had to be fast, because no one is going to pay much attention to someone half glimpsed who is moving about the camp as if he belongs there, but the smell of kerosene is strong and sets off alarms in anyone.

It only took a minute or so to drench the wagons, then I signaled that we should retreat back toward our own camp. Virt looked a question at me, presumably, How are we going to set them on fire? I smiled back at her and led the way.

We made it past the pickets without incident, at which point Virt said, "How are you going to start the fire from here?"

"Oh, I don't know." I picked a stick, drew on my link to the Orb, and started it burning. "I'll think of something," I said, and handed it to Loiosh, who flew off into the night.

They stared in wonderment for a moment; none of them, I think, had any previous clue of Loiosh's intelligence. Just for fun, I led them past our own pickets.

Once back in camp, all three of them reacted as I should have expected: laughter bordering on the hysterical, which was a little terrifying in Napper's case; and, along with the near hysteria, an unreasonable desire to continue being silent, as if the habit had been ingrained for life in the few intense hours.

Eventually they quieted down, and then Aelburr whispered, "Hope they like toast," and they all burst into giggles again, with hands clapped over mouths to keep it quiet, which, of course, made it even funnier. I found myself laughing with them, until we were informed that if we didn't quiet down at once we'd be put on report. Napper, tears streaming from his eyes, tried to whisper something that struck him as funny about that, but couldn't get it out, and the effort made him laugh even harder.

Virt, however, hysterics or not, was not anxious to be put on report, so she gestured that we should follow her. She started jogging toward the river, then veered away to stay within the boundaries of the camp. I wondered what she was up to when my question answered itself; it is hard to stay hysterical when you're out of breath from running, and hard to run when you're out of breath from laughing. In a few minutes, we weren't laughing anymore, and Virt led us back to our tent.

It actually worked; I, at least fell asleep quickly, and I think the others did as well, and there was really nothing more to the incident until breakfast the next morning, when we each took our biscuit and looked at it.

"Yes," said Napper. "They taste rather better today than they did yesterday, don't you think?"

Whatever happened in the next few hours, I decided, getting a pleasantry out of Napper counted as a moral victory.

12—A Few Bumps and Bruises

Sounds broke in to interrupt my stare-down with Ori: the sounds of Easterners being slaughtered. Mostly screams—and screams that were different from the cries of the wounded, because these had the edge of terror. I realized then that even from here I could feel the presence of Blackwand. On the field below me, to my right, Easterners were dying and my side was winning; the souls of my kind were gone, swallowed up, vanished forever, destroyed; and my side was winning the engagement. You could say I had mixed feelings about this.

On the other hand, if I wanted to present myself as a negotiator, it did put me in a stronger position. As I considered this, another interruption came, this one in the form of someone pushing through past the honor guard and coming up next to Ori.

It was about here that everything speeded up and slowed down; that is, things began to happen faster, but it seemed as if I had more time to observe and think it all over, to weigh the options, note the dangers, and be afraid.