Steven Brust - Dragon

"You all right?" she said.

In spite of everything, I managed to give her a straight answer. "A bit wobbly on my feet, and my back itches, and I could use about another forty or fifty hours of sleep, but yeah, I'm okay."

"Think you can take a spot on the line?"

"Sure."

"Good. We had some casualties."

"Did they attack last night?"

She looked at me. "Just before dawn. Glad we didn't wake you up."

"I think you could have burned the tent down without waking me up."

"Today, I think."

"Hmmm?"

"I think today will settle things."

"Oh. That's good."

"Yes. And our end of it shouldn't be too bad. All we have to do is hold this hill. Unless, of course, the powers-that-be change their minds and have us do something else."

"Holding the hill might be rough enough," I said.

"Maybe. Go get some food in you."

"Good idea," I said.

I went back inside and grabbed my jerkin and inspected it. I found that it no longer had a back—just a big hole, about a foot in diameter, with ugly burn marks around the edges. I started to feel queasy again.

"Boss—"

"Yeah. Impressive, isn't it?"

"What are you going to do for a jerkin?"

"I brought a spare."

"Oh. Good thinking."

I put it on and my back started itching. I filled the ribs and sleeves and the collar from my old shirt, then put a light cloak over it, and made sure that I was properly packed. I ate three biscuits and drank a lot of water, then got myself shaved and cleaned up as best I could.

My knees felt very shaky by then, and I wasn't looking forward to taking a spot on the line. If I'd remembered what I had promised Morrolan I'd do I might have panicked, but my brain was still a bit scrambled and that didn't occur to me until later. The experiences of the night before came back in pieces, and I kept wanting to think of the whole thing as a dream, but I couldn't convince myself, and then I made the mistake of asking Loiosh, who confirmed that at least some of it had actually happened.

When I returned to the tent, I found Rascha sitting with Virt and Aelburr. I sat with them, and soon after that Crown came along. "Morning, soldiers," he said cheerfully. "Today we take them."

Rascha nodded. "What do you think of the earthworks on the southwest side? They got pretty messed up last night."

He nodded. "It wouldn't hurt to build them up again."

Dunn came over then. He said, "Sergeant, I'd like—"

"No," said Crown. "Mora's taking the colors. If she goes down, then you're up. So stick by her. And keep her alive, if you can. You can answer to Dortmond if she shines."

"Yes, Sergeant. Thank you, Sergeant."

Dunn walked away. I shook my head. "I just don't get it."

Crown looked me up and down. "No, you wouldn't, would you?" He walked off.

"I think," I said, "that I've just been insulted."

"Don't let it keep you up nights," said Virt.

From farther down the line someone called out, "Here they come," and we walked up to the remains of the earthworks and waited for the assault to begin.

They came, and we held them off, and they came, and we held them off. The whole time Loiosh remained on my shoulder, maybe for whatever effect it might have on anyone who faced me. I kept asking him why he didn't get to somewhere safe, but I didn't get a satisfactory answer, just questions to which I couldn't give a satisfactory answer. My legs kept wanting to buckle—residual effects from getting hit the day before, but I never quite collapsed at the wrong time. If the Necromancer had actually done something, well, it must have worked.

After the second attack, Virt said, "Have you noticed that every time they attack they've been knocking away at the earthworks?"

"Uh … you're right."

"And that they attack with more troops each time?"

"Right again," I said. "You're on a roll. Don't stop now."

"They're forming up for another charge," she said.

Rascha came by and said, "Up to the line again. Where's Aelburr?"

"I'll sit this one out, I think," he said.

That was when we noticed that he was flat on his back, bleeding from two distinct chest wounds and another on his right leg. "Physic!" came the call, from Rascha and Virt at the same time.

As the physicker approached, Virt said, "We're awfully cut up. Do we have anyone left to plug the holes?"

"No," said Rascha. "We've got holes everywhere. About twelve percent casualties. And, from the looks of things, I don't think we can expect any support from Brigade."

"Oh," said Virt.

"Time for someone to think of something clever," I suggested, at which moment the juice-drum gave the call to prepare for a charge. I said, "That wasn't the sort of clever I was thinking of."

Virt said, "This should be interesting."

"Interesting?" I said. "We're too weak to defend, so we attack? That isn't sound military practice, is it?"

"No," said Virt.

"Well good," I said. "See? I've learned something."

"I'm sure it will do you a lot of good next time you enlist." She paused. "It's been done before, though. And it isn't that bad an idea. One time, at Kipper Bay, we—" She broke off abruptly and pointed. "I'll tell you the story later," she said optimistically.

They were coming up the hill, and there was something horribly determined about how they came. I didn't like it at all. We prepared to go down the hill. I liked that even less. At least we had elevation on our side.

One way or the other, we were going to settle it right now.

"Well," said Loiosh. "Here you are."

"No shit," I said.

17—The Limitations of Wit

I turned back toward Fornia and stood there next to Daymar as Napper approached from behind me to my left, and the whole bloody war approached from behind me to my right.

Napper got there first. He came up next to me, holding a short, heavy sword that was streaked with red. I glanced over at him, and his eyes were shining, and he wore a delighted smile all over his face. I said, "Napper, meet Daymar. Daymar, Napper. And that is the Count of Fornia. Anyone bring wine? Cheese? I could manage some biscuits."

The three who had been assigned to watch us didn't think I was very funny, but neither did they construe my remarks as suspicious enough to cut us down. "Your weapons," said one of them.

"Daymar, can you break through the block and get us out of here?"

"No," he explained gently. "They strengthened the block after I broke through it."

"Pity," I said.

"If I can get about half an hour —"

He might as well have asked for half a year. "Yeah, well, I'll let you know."

"Weapons," repeated the soldier. "Now."

"What's the plan, Vlad?" said Napper, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"The good news is that we're negotiating," I told him. "The bad news is that I surrendered."

"You what?"

"On the other hand, if he plans to kill me, I'll have to say the surrender is off. In the meantime, you'd best give the nice man your sword. I would, too, but I don't have one."

"Carefully," added the guard. "Unbuckle the belt and let it fall."

He looked fairly tough. So did the others. I didn't like Napper's chances against all three of them. One was between us and Fornia, the others flanked us. Napper began to comply, with exaggerated slowness.

"I don't suppose, Daymar, you know what they're doing?"

"No," said Daymar. "He has me bbcked." Daymar sounded hurt.

Orders came barking out from somewhere in the group, and swords were drawn. I drew in my breath, terrified all over again, but the honor guard and the sorcerers turned to face the approaching battle. For an instant, with all the movement, I had a clear shot at Fornia, but then it was gone before I could have taken it even if I'd been so inclined.