Mary Herbert - Dragon's Bluff

As soon as the bodies were removed, Lucy and Challie put the cook wagon back in order with the enthusiastic help of the two kender. Lucy made sure Challie’s axe and their personal belongings were kept out of sight of the inquisitive young duo.

The kender took an immediate liking to Lucy and introduced themselves. The tallest was Cosmo Thistleknot, a cousin, he claimed proudly, of the renegade kender leader, Kronin Thistleknot. The other was a year or two younger and went by the name of Pease Stubbletoes. Both kender had hair the color of honey oak. Their eyes, like bright brown acorns, glinted at her behind rosy cheeks and fields of freckles. Both wore tan-colored tunics and breeches without a kender’s usual clutter of pouches and overfilled pockets. Both were personable and insatiably curious, and yet Lucy noticed the two seemed not so frivolous. There was a serious, harder side that ran through these two like a vein of iron. They had grown up in the shadow of the red dragon overlord and had heard the horrific tales of the destruction of their homeland, Kendermore. They knew what few kender ever learn: fear and the will to fight. They were also very proud to be riding with the Silver Fox.

“He likes to be called Captain Fox when we’re out trooping,” Cosmo told the women.

“So what is this troop?” Lucy asked, hanging the skillets back on their hooks.

Pease tapped the silver fox emblem on his tunic. “We’re the Vigilance Committee.”

Cosmo swatted his arm. “We’re the Vigilance Force,” he corrected his friend. “The Committee meets in town.”

“Which town?” asked Lucy.

“Why Flotsam, of course. We have a very active underground organization,” Pease told her. “We fight ogres, defend caravans, raid the Dark Knights’ patrols …”

Cosmo’s foot flew out and kicked his companion’s shin. “Shhh!” he whispered loudly. “You’re not supposed to tell anyone!”

Pease rubbed his arm and glared at the other kender. “We can tell them. They’re not Khurs or Knights of Neraka. That one’s Chalcedony—obviously, she already knows. And she’s a sorceress.” He didn’t add “so there!” but it rang as clear as a bell in his voice.

“My name is Lucy,” she told them.

The kender broke off their argument and bowed politely.

“If you are going to stay in Flotsam, you must come visit us,” Cosmo said. “We have the most disheveled hovels in town.”

Lucy checked in surprise at his choice of words. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again and thought better of opening that topic of conversation. Kender could talk all day on some of their favorite subjects, and at the moment she was too tired to listen.

“Who’s the tall man who likes you? Is he a sorcerer?” Pease asked as he pulled out drawers in the food cupboard.

Lucy came behind him and closed them again. She smiled a sad smile. “He used to be. His name is Ulin.”

From outside, the captain’s voice called his riders to mount, and to Lucy’s relief, the kender hastily jumped out of the wagon to fetch their ponies. Several spoons, a bag of salt, and a tin of hot pepper disappeared with them, but Lucy didn’t mind.

It was early evening before the wagons were ready to roll. Two drivers and seven guards had been buried by the road. The wounded had been bandaged, and the dead bandits were dumped in a gully for the scavengers. In the failing light of sunset the caravan set off under the escort of the Vigilance Force.

The miles rolled slowly by, and gradually the desolate hills gave way to grasslands dotted with copses of scrub oak, cedar, and wild olive trees. Trees in greater number had grown there once, until the powerful magic of the red dragon had changed the landscape and the weather and turned the lands into waste.

The single moon rose, shining and full-bellied, and cast a silver light on the dim trail. It was fully dark when Lysandros brought the caravan to a watering hole and called a halt. They were only eight miles from Flotsam, but the animals were weary and the wounded men needed rest. Ulin and his helpers made an easy meal, using all the remaining supplies left in the cook wagon. Everyone enjoyed the beans, spiced potatoes, flat bread, and bacon.

Dawn came, clean and clear and warm enough to promise another hot day. The caravan left shortly after daybreak and took the road over the grassy hills toward Flotsam.

Lucy drove, for Ulin had been pressed into service driving one of the freight wagons. Although he still could not manipulate the whip like the Khurs, Akkar-bin put him in the last ox wagon, knowing that on this gentle road, the oxen would simply follow the others. The caravan master then told Lysandros and his company to ride at the rear while he and his remaining guards rode at the front of the train.

Lysandros lifted one elegant eyebrow at that effrontery but chose to ignore it. He sent most of his riders on to Flotsam while he and a few others rode alongside the wagons.

Lucy soon realized why. As soon as the caravan was well underway, Challie tugged at her sleeve and pointed, and when Lucy looked around, she saw the captain riding his big gray close beside her. His silver gray hair shone in the early morning light, and his pale blue eyes gleamed like forget-me-nots against his tanned skin. A saber hung at his belt, and a silver horn was fastened to his saddle. He did not look up at her or say anything at first. He rode as if lost in thought and unaware he had pulled so far forward, yet Lucy saw him cast furtive glances at her, and she wondered why. She was honest enough with herself to know she was no beauty, so why was someone as dashing and handsome as the captain studying her so intently?

She saw Ulin glance back and frown at the rider. She could not resist giving him a smile and a wave. “So”—she turned to the captain—“you are a resistance leader and the master of the Thieves’ Guild? That’s an interesting combination.”

The half-elf lifted his chin, his mouth curved in good humor. “In this region, the two jobs go well together.”

“Are you related to the original Silver Fox?”

He rested his hand lightly on the hilt of his saber and nodded. “I am his youngest son. My oldest brother was the second Silver Fox until the Dark Knights caught up with him. We never found his body. Only this sword, which belonged to our father … and the dismembered bodies of his troop.”

Lucy hid a grimace. She had lived in a free realm for so long that she could not imagine what life was like under the merciless control of a dragon overlord. She wondered for a hundredth time why her pleasure-loving, irresponsible, rogue of a father had come to Flotsam, and if he had really died in that fire. She heard Lysandros ask her a question, and she pulled out of her thoughts.

“What are we doing here among the Khurs?” She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and laughed. “It was the only way we could get to Flotsam. I have come to find my father.”

He looked up at her obviously intrigued. “Your father is in Flotsam? Who is he?”

Lucy was so busy shifting her attention back and forth from her task to her companion that she did not see the hard look Challie fired at the resistance leader. “It would be more accurate to ask who was he? The magistrate came to tell us he died. She asked us to come to Flotsam to identify a body.”

Lysandros pretended to ignore the dwarf and said in a startled voice, “You traveled all the way from Sanction to identify a body?”

“Actually,” Challie informed him coldly. “We’ve traveled all the way from Solace.”

Both of the captain’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Solace? But that’s …”

“Ridiculous?” Lucy offered. “Foolhardy? Dangerous?”