Роберт Асприн - Forever After

“Mostly poppy syrup,” Domino replied. “Chase uses them to dose the horses when they need surgery. I had him send a half dozen — one for each head.”

“You don’t plan on doing surgery on the Hydra, do you?” The Hag’s bulging eyes were wider than Domino would have thought possible and even Spite looked astonished.

“Yes, after a fashion.”

“Crazy human,” the Hag muttered, but she fed the Hydra the pills.

As soon as the Hydra had collapsed into a slumber so deep that its gills barely fluttered, Domino hefted a heavy, curve-bladed, two-headed ax. Experimentally, she held it to a flimsy stalk of seaweed that was being aimlessly carried by the slight current and the stem parted so easily that the pieces continued to float side by side as if still the same plant.

“Sharp,” the Sea Hag said admiringly.

“Yes,” Domino replied, and in the same breath brought the ax down in her best woodcutter’s stroke down onto the Hydra’s damaged neck, just above where the neck joined the stocky body.

The Hag’s wail of surprise ringing in her ears, Domino dodged the Hag’s long-nailed hands easily and knelt by the now-bleeding Hydra.

“Won’t be needing this,” she said, dropping the ax and reaching for the neck. “Spite, calm your mother. I’m not hurting her monster.”

She felt the waters swirl as the hippocampus swam to intercept the Sea Hag. Her attention was for the newly wounded neck. The blood was flowing less freely now. Rocking back on her heels, she watched carefully as not one, but two heads budded from the stump and sprouted forth, each on its own skinny neck. Quickly, she stepped back so that the Sea Hag could see.

“There,” she said, proud despite herself, “I’ve fixed your Hydra for you. It’s even better than before.”

“Well,” the Hag weaseled, “those heads are awfully scrawny and the necks look like eels rather than dragons, but, yes, you’ve done well.”

“Are we quits then?” Domino asked. “You’ll let me go free unharmed and will keep the news of what I suspect about Prince Rango to yourself?”

“On one condition,” the Hag said, stroking the sleepy baby heads. “You take Spite with you. I can’t stand its sass.”

“Gladly.”

Domino swung onto Spite’s back, feeling the odd curve where the horse’s back merged into fishtail. Without prompting, Spite carried her to the surface. As they ascended, Domino felt the hippocampus’s gait become choppy and lose some of its power. The glass-bottomed boat paced them until they emerged in the shallows, Spite once again a powerful horse.

Domino snuck a glance down and under as she was dismounting. Yes, most definitely a stallion. The horse’s glass green eyes glittered wickedly at her as she hurried to greet Jord, Rate, and the others.

“It is done,” she said, mostly for Piggon’s benefit.

“We saw,” Jord replied, a bit pale about the gills. “You went back and cut the Hydra’s neck off! It’s a wonder the Sea Hag didn’t destroy you then.”

“She had given me her word that I could attempt to cure the monster,” Domino said simply, “for some creatures that is still enough.”

Rafe meanwhile was studying Spite with an amused expression on his weathered features.

“You got to keep the horse, I see.” He grinned. “Good thing that only a handful of us saw what we did. It made quite a fetching maid.”

Spite snorted and stomped one hoof, slicing away a deep divot of turf.

“I wouldn’t mention it if I were you,” Domino interpreted. “Might be bad for morale. Will the Company be ready to move come morning?”

“Aye, General.”

“Good, speak with Colum about lightening up the wagons. We’re going to move double-time.”

“Trouble, General?”

“No, Rafe, but we took some time getting here and I want to make it up on the way back.”

“Anything else, General?”

Domino looked at the puddles around her feet and the still-rainy sky. “I know it seems hopeless, but how about a towel?”

Despite dry towels, spiced possets, and hot teas, Domino caught a cold so severe that for several days she rode in a daze. Seth tended her by day and Jord by night. Both the Magical Folk and Yor Chase sent remedies, but they were slow to work — perhaps because she refused to rest.

“I hate having a cold,” Domino announced, giving Seth a grateful squeeze and accepting the hot, sweetened peppermint tea. “It makes me feel less than human.”

“Ride in the wagons,” Jord suggested. “Rafe can lead the Company for a few days.”

“You must be jesting,” Domino said, sneezing repeatedly. “I am Domino Blaid!”

“You,” Jord replied, “are a crazy lady, but I know better than to argue with you when you get that look.”

Domino merely looked haughty — and sneezed.

When Kerran gave her his report that afternoon, she was almost too busy being miserable to wonder why he was making his report to her rather than to Rafe. Not wanting to embarrass Rafe, she waited until Seth appeared with a fresh cup of hot tea.

“Find Rafe for me and I don’t care where you look, even if you roust him out of some lover’s bed.” She stifled a particularly violent sneeze. “If you can’t find him, at least find out who saw him last.”

The Company was settling into night camp when Seth finally came to report.

“No sign of the Colonel anywhere, sir,” the boy said, “and best as I can tell, the last time he was seen he was heading toward the caravan of the Magical Folk.”

Domino tried hard to think. The Magical Folk had stayed with them even after they had departed the Lake. They had sent some complaints at the increased pace, but Domino had considered this beneath her notice. Otherwise, her only contact had been a gift of herbal teas and comfits from Granny and a warm lap robe from Mel.

She sipped her tea wearily. “I must go and look for him. Just let me finish this. Seth, can you find me some dry socks and a fresh tunic?”

“Yes, sir.”

She didn’t miss the worried look he shared with Jord, but chose to overlook it. For now, all she wanted was to lean back and feel the warmth of the tea on her throat and breathe the fragrant steam.

When she awoke, the tent was dark except for a small figure huddled over a lamp turned down low. Outside, the first birds were giving a querulous welcome to false dawn. Significantly, Jord was nowhere near.

“Seth? What are you doing here and awake?” She sat up, her head feeling miraculously clear. “And where is Jord?”

The boy turned to face her, misery etched in each angle of his face. “He went there last night, General, to ask the Magical Folk about Colonel Rafe and he hasn’t come back. When I went to look for him I found that the Magical Folk have moved out!“

Domino did not stop to be angry that Jord had acted as he had. He was a poet, not even military, and certainly he couldn’t be expected to follow orders. Nor did she yell at the boy. His first duty was to look out for her and, as he saw it, that’s what he’d been doing.

“Get me Captain Kerran and Sergeant Colum,” she ordered. “Tell Spite to get his green ass up here — don’t worry about leading him. Then report back here.”

“Yes, sir!” The boy vanished at a run.

Domino strapped herself into her armor, refusing to let her residually aching muscles stop her. Kerman Blaid had insisted that she be ready in any condition and there were times she had hated him for it. Now, especially as a terrible suspicion surfaced within her mind, she was grateful to the old horseman.

“Seth,” she said when the boy ducked back into the tent, “did Jord have his scroll tube with him when he went to look for Colonel Rafe?”

The boy chewed his rosy lip as he struggled to recall.