David Brin: The Practice Effect

But the hawk-winged shape easily maneuvered out of reach of the deadly darts. Then it turned nimbly and pursued its pursuers, hounding them out over the arid plain. Each time the inevitable result was another glider wrecked or stranded on the tumbled prairie.

In a matter of minutes, the sky was clear! The L’Toff stared, unable to believe what had happened. Then a cheer rose from the defenders’ lines. The attackers—even the gray-clad professionals—drew back in superstition and awe as the droning thing came around to fly high over the canyon.

As if that weren’t enough, at that moment there came a peal of horns that echoed resoundingly down the rocky vale. Emerging from the heights overlooking the canyon, a detachment of armored men appeared. As a breeze stiffened, they unfurled the royal pennant of Coylia. A great dragon, its broad, sweeping wings outlined in bright green piping, flapped in the wind and grinned down at the combatants.

Gath knew that a bare dozen Royal Scouts had been hiding on the slopes above, to make a big show at some appropriate time. The tacticians had been counting on the Scouts’ reputation to slow the enemy at some crucial moment.

The effect was magnified far beyond what Demsen and Prince Linsee had hoped for. The association between the unknown flying thing and the dragons of legend was unmistakable. In the armies below there were, doubtless, sudden foxhole conversions to the Old Belief.

That was when the great growling monster above chose to swoop upon the army of plainsmen.

No arrows rose to meet it, for although it dropped nothing lethal, its bass moaning struck terror in the invaders’ hearts. They dropped weapons and fled their positions” without looking back.

Gath breathed easily for the first time in days. He had very little doubt who the pilot of that noisy, dragon-like glider had to be.

“Your Majesty! All is lost!” The gray-cloaked rider swerved in front of his liege lord.

Kremer reined up his horse. “ What? What are you talking about? I was told we had them in our grasp!”

Then he looked up and saw the rout in progress. Like a flash flood, the green, red, and gray uniforms cascaded unstoppably down the canyon, only a little way behind the-mounted messenger.

The warlord and his aides were caught in the flood of panicked troops. It quickly became apparent that shouting and bearing at the men with their swords would not rally them. It was all Kremer and his officers could do to spur their nervous animals over to high ground at the side of the canyon, out of the tide of fleeing soldiery.

Clearly something had gone desperately wrong. Kremer looked up, searching for his chief weapon, but not one of his gliders was in the sky!

Then he turned at a faint noise and saw an unfamiliar shape flying low down the canyon, chasing his men! From long experience, he knew that no glider could fly that way, ignoring the tricky little niceties of air rise and rate of fall. It screamed like a great, angry bird of prey, and around it shimmered the faint lambience of felthesh.

The troops that fled before it had clearly had enough of surprises this campaign. First those nasty, bobbing, floating “balloon” monsters—and now this!

The warlord muttered angrily. As the thing approached, Kremer touched the butt of the needler he wore on his hip. If only it would come close enough. If he could shoot it down, it might restore heart to his men!

But the monster did not cooperate. Its task apparently accomplished, it rose and turned about northward. Kremer had no doubt it was headed toward the battle in the northern passes.

In his mind’s eye he saw it all—the foreign wizard had done this, and there was no way to stop it.

He couldn’t fight this new thing—not now, at least. His battle plan had relied too heavily on his gliders, and they were no match for the monster.

Of course, once news of this disaster reached the east, the great lords would flock to King Hymiel. Within days there would be armies heading west, competing for a price on his head.

Kremer turned to his aides. “Hurry to the semaphore station. Order a complete retreat, both here and in the north. Have my hillmen gather in the Valley of the Tall Trees, in our ancestral highlands of Flemmig. The ancient redoubts there are strong. There we shall not have anything to fear from either armies or the wizard’s flying monsters.”

“Your Majesty?” The officers stared at him in disbelief. One moment ago they were serving the clear and certain future ruler of all the lands from the mountains to the sea. Now he was telling them that they were to live as their grandfathers had, in the northern wilds!

Kremer understood that few men could see the lay of things as quickly and clearly as he. He couldn’t blame them for being stunned. But neither would he countenance slowness to obey.

“Move!” he shouted. He touched the bolstered needler at his side and saw them quail.

“I want word to go out at once. When that is done we shall message our garrison in Zuslik. They will strip the town of wealth and food…We will need it during the months and years ahead.”

It was late, even for a Tatir summer day, when the miracle “dragon” returned to the heartland of the L’Toff. The welcoming party on the ground had to follow in zigs and zags until both they and the pilot of the flying machine found a clearing large enough. By then, it seemed, half of the population— those not still harrying the retreating armies—had gathered to greet their saviors.

The craft swooped in low, a glistening shape that shone in the golden twilight. It touched down lightly and finally rolled, to a stop not far from a stand of tall oak trees.

The crowd virtually exploded in joy when they saw the slim form of their Princess stand from the body of the flying craft. They gathered around, cheering, and some even tried to lift her up and carry her off on their shoulders.

But she would have none of it. She motioned them all back and turned to help another person stand. A tall man for an outlander, he was dark-haired and bearded, and he looked very tired.

But the biggest surprise came when they saw the thing that sat upon the man’s shoulder—a little creature with two green eyes shining and an impish grin. The Krenegee purred as the people stepped back and fell into a hushed, reverent silence.

Then the L’Toff sighed, almost as one, as the foreign wizard took their Princess into his arms and kissed her for a very long time.

When Dennis finally awakened he felt a bit strange, as if a lot of time had passed, as if he had dreamed a great deal. He sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Through a filmy curtain, sunlight streamed into the bright-canopied pavilion. He flung aside the silky bedspread and got up from the soft pallet on which he had slept. He found he was naked.

There were excited shouts coming from outside the gaudy tent, and the sound of galloping messengers coming and going. Dennis searched for something to wear and found a pair of soft buckskin breeches and a satiny green blouse laid out over a white-fringed chair. Black leather boots lay nearby… his size. Dennis didn’t bother with the underwear. He put the clothes on quickly and hurried outside.

Only a dozen meters away, Prince Linsee spoke animatedly with several of his officers. The lord of the L’Toff listened to a report from an out-of-breath messenger, then chuckled and clasped the courier on the shoulder in gratitude.

Dennis relaxed a little when he heard the Prince’s laughter. Dennis’s exhausted sleep had been disturbed by recurring guilty thoughts that he ought to be up and about, helping the L’Toff secure the victory he had brought them. Several times he had half awakened, intending to get busy devising new weapons, or to use his new aircraft to harry the enemy. But his exhausted body had refused to cooperate.