David Weber - Hell's Gate

"'Just the dragonfield,'" he repeated softly, almost musingly.

"Obviously you're seeing something I'm not."

"No." He shook his head. "It's just that I know what we ought to be seeing. I know you've spent a lot of time in Garth Showma, but you're still basically a civilian, Gadrial. I'm not."

"So tell this poor 'civilian' what she's missing."

"Sorry." He flashed her a grin, acknowledging her tone's exaggerated patience. "I didn't mean to be mysterious. It's just that there are an awful lot of dragons out there, Gadrial. A lot."

Gadrial frowned, gazing out over the field once more, and then nodded slowly. She'd noticed when they arrived that the field seemed unusually crowded, but her mind had been on other matters at the time. Now that Jasak had called her attention to it, she realized that the number of dragons out there actually exceeded the field's designed capacity by a substantial margin. Each dragon was supposed to have its own assigned nesting place, with overhead cover against the elements, but there were too many of the huge beasts for that to be possible. At least a quarter of those she could see were housed?if that was the word for it?in hastily improvised wallows the recent rain had turned muddy, giving them a bedraggled, down-at-the-heels look she was unaccustomed to seeing from the Air Force.

"You're right," she acknowledged. "I hadn't noticed."

"That's not all," Jasak said soberly, and nodded towards the flatter area to the south of the dragonfield.

The area to the north was given over to paddocks and holding pens filled with the imported cattle and locally rounded up bison which provided the dragons' primary food supply. Now that Jasak had drawn her attention to the number of beasts actually thronging the field, she realized that the holding pens were unusually full, as well. But he was pointing in the opposite direction, and she felt her forehead furrowing as she saw the neat rows of white tents.

"That's at least a two-company bivouac," he told her. "And that's the next best thing to five hundred men."

Gadrial nodded slowly. Once upon a time, she knew, the Andaran rank titles which the Union's military establishment had adopted had been literal descriptors of the size of an officer's command. Over time, however, as armies grew and evolved, that had changed. Jasak was a commander of one hundred, and one hundreds had always commanded infantry companies. But a company consisted of almost two hundred and fifty men these days, not the hundred men it had once contained. And Five Hundred Klian's battalion consisted (or should have, assuming it had been at full strength) of almost eleven hundred men, not five hundred, while a commander of two thousand's regiment was over three thousand men strong.

None of which explained what five hundred men were doing living in tents outside Fort Talon's barracks.

"mul Gurthak's calling in reinforcements," she said.

"That's exactly what he's doing," Jasak agreed. Then he inhaled deeply. "We shouldn't be surprised. After all, he's the most senior officer this side of the Ucala sliderhead, and that's still over twelve thousand miles from here. It's his responsibility to concentrate as much combat power as he can, just in case. It's just … "

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. Not that he needed to complete the sentence for Gadrial's benefit.

She stood beside him, gazing at the innocent looking white tents which housed the men mul Gurthak couldn't squeeze into his available barracks space and at the transport dragons ringing the field. There were at least a dozen battle dragons, like the two which had reacted to Shaylar so strongly, as well, and Gadrial's blood ran cold at the thought that dragons might actually be used in battle once again.

And if we're prepared to use dragons for the first time in two hundred years, she thought with a bone-deep shiver, recalling a conversation with Shaylar and Jathmar, what else are we prepared to do for the first time in two hundred years?

It was a question she couldn't answer, and she felt like a coward for being grateful that she could not.

"Well, gentlemen," Nith mul Gurthak said, tipping back his chair and smiling at Rithmar Skirvon and Uthik Dastiri, "I suppose it's time that you were on your way."

The sun had barely risen over Fort Talon, but the two diplomats were already packed and ready to go. Their beautifully tailored civilian clothing had been exchanged for utilitarian Air Force flight suits, and neither of them looked any more enthralled by the prospect of a five thousand-mile journey than mul Gurthak would have been in their place.

"I'm afraid so," Skirvon agreed with a grimace. "I wish we were eligible for flight pay!"

"Understandable, I suppose," mul Gurthak conceded with a slight smile. Then his expression grew more sober. "A great deal depends upon you gentlemen?on your judgment and your efforts. I won't belabor that point further, since I know we're all already aware of it. I wish there were time for us to seek formal guidance from Parliament and the Commandery. There isn't."

"Understood, Two Thousand," Skirvon replied somberly. "I assure you that we'll do our best."

"I never doubted it." mul Gurthak rose behind his desk and extended his right hand. "Good luck, gentlemen."

"Thank you, Two Thousand," Skirvon said very seriously. Then mul Gurthak shook hands with both of them and watched them walk out of his office.

"How far did you say it was to the next portal?" Shaylar asked as she and Jathmar followed Jasak and Gadrial towards the dragonfield.

"About nine hundred miles," Jasak replied. "One day's dragon flight."

"Assuming, of course," Shaylar forced an edge of humor into her voice, "that the dragon in question doesn't just decide to eat me and be done with it, instead."

Jasak stopped. The rest of their small procession?including a still obviously irked Hundred Neshok and half a dozen soldiers from his company?stopped as well, and Jasak turned to face her.

"That isn't going to happen, Shaylar," he told her firmly. "We're taking Skyfang, and we haven't had any problems with him."

"No, we haven't," Shaylar agreed. She couldn't keep her intense relief from showing, not that she tried particularly hard. The Fort Wyvern dragon Skyfang and his pilot, Commander of Fifty Daris Varkal, were a well oiled team. They'd obviously been together a long time, possibly as long as Muthok Salmeer and Windclaw. Unlike Windclaw, however, Skyfang?who was even larger than Windclaw?had shown no inclination to take large, messy bites out of her. In fact, she'd almost felt as if the dragon actually liked her, although she wasn't about to invest any great confidence in that possibility.

"As a matter of fact, Shaylar," Gadrial said with a slight smile for Jasak, "Jasak's requested that we stick with Skyfang and Fifty Varkal as long as possible. We may have to change dragons in Rycarh or Jylaros?we have fairly long sea voyages crossing each of those universes, and we may not have enough room aboard ship for Skyfang?but if we can, we'll hang onto both of them all the way to Ucala."

"Is that likely to be possible?" Jathmar asked.

"It depends on the available shipping," Jasak said. "That's one reason I hadn't mentioned the possibility to you. Not all of our ships are configured as dragon transports, so we may not be able to. I'd say the odds were probably slightly in our favor, but I can't guarantee it."

"Whether we can or not, I truly appreciate the thought, Jasak," Shaylar said. "Thank you."

"I told you, Shaylar," Jasak said quietly, taking her delicate hand in one of his and squeezing it gently, "you and Jathmar are members of my family, now. However deeply I may regret the circumstances which make that so, I'm honored to have you as a sister, and I look out for all my sisters. And?" he looked across her head at the Jathmar "?my brothers, too. Now that I have one."