Battledragon (10 page)

It swung around and for a moment Relkin stared into jaws so huge they would have swallowed him whole like a bonbon.

A crowd had gathered.

"Eight foot across those jaws are," said a grizzled old fish cutter in a leather apron who was wiping a long knife on a towel.

"Eat a man like a rasher of bacon," said someone else.

"Ha," said another, "eat a whole boatload of men like a rasher of bacon."

"Who caught it?" said Relkin.

"Caught it?" said the fish cutter. "Oh, it wasn't caught. They found the head and the tail beached in East Bay this morning. The rest was eaten. Found some other dead sharks today, too, washed up on the point."

"What is it?" said Relkin, staring at that huge head with awe.

"They call him the white death, lad," said the fish cutter.

"Doesn't seem white to me."

"The head is darker, 'tis true, the white is on the belly, none of which was recovered."

Relkin whistled to himself at the great jaws, bristling with six-inch teeth.

"I wouldn't wonder if we ain't looking at what happened to Jonas Faller and his boat
Peaspod
, said another man with the square-cornered hat of a fisherman and a yellow waterproof.

Several other fishermen rumbled in response.

"A plague on all sharks," said one at Relkin's elbow. The fish cutter had gone to stand directly beneath the swinging head of white death.

"Fortunately the damned things are very rare, else the oceans'd be empty." He reached up and knocked loose a tooth with his knife. He caught it as it fell and handed it to Relkin.

"There you are, young sir; show that to your young uns. That's the tooth of white death."

"And pray to the Mother that they never see him again!" said the nearest fisherman.

The tooth was triangular and bigger than Relkin's hand in area. He ran his thumb along the edge; it was sharp enough for an edged weapon.

"Jonas Faller, Mother care for his soul, he was a careful man, but it doesn't matter how careful you are if one of those monsters finds you. They can sink a fishing boat all right."

"Boat?" said another bitterly, "remember the brig
Lally
?"

They fell to reminiscing about the mysterious loss of this brig, which had its bottom torn open in waters with no shoals and no rocks.

Relkin found a couple of smaller sharks displayed on a slab of ice. Both had been bitten about the head but were otherwise intact.

He bent down and sniffed the larger of them.

"That's perfectly fresh today, sir," said a fishmonger. "It was brought in still bleeding. I wouldn't sell it otherwise."

Relkin bought it. His dragon had been right. The shark was seven feet long and weighed three hundred pounds gutted and cleaned. Yet for its size it was cheap enough, and he obtained the whole thing for no more than two pieces of silver. Then he threw in a groat for the porter to have it shipped up the hill to the Dragon House.

"No call for 'em, sir, most folk won't eat a sternfish."

That afternoon it was roasted over an open fire under the anxious direction of a certain leatherback dragon. Then the great fish, cut into foot-wide steaks, was served up to the dragons of the 109th, gathered in a private conclave around the open fire.

The platters were cleaned. Wyverns looked up expectantly at the Purple Green. The wild one avoided their eyes.

"Well?" said Bazil after a while.

The Purple Green had finished his shark steak. He was eying the remains of the shark; there was still plenty there.

"Ah, I wonder if this dragon could have another piece?"

Bazil exchanged a look of triumph with the others. Another huge piece was passed to the wild dragon, who fell to eating it immediately.

"So, did you like the sternfish?" said Alsebra, laying a green hand on the massive purple-black forearm of the wild dragon.

"Oh, yes, it was good."

"You're sure now?"

The Purple Green's platter was empty again. With an odd look he scanned the shark's remains.

"All gone?" he said plaintively.

Bazil clacked his jaws. "Not quite. I have one more piece."

"Oh?" Caution warred with greed in the Purple Green's eyes.

"But I'm only giving it to a dragon who admits that this is one fish he really enjoyed eating."

There was a long moment. The Purple Green looked at the other wyverns. They were all staring at him with unmistakably smug expressions.

By the ancient gods of Dragon Home, though, that sternfish had been damned good. Unlike anything he knew from land-bound game. And wild dragons are absolute slaves to their stomachs. He simply could not resist the lure.

"Oh, all right! Yes, I did like it. Now give me the last piece."

The wyverns exploded into loud dragonish mirth, a sound quite terrifying to all other forms of life. Happily they broached a couple of kegs of ale and drained them and sang together while they ate every last scrap of the shark, along with cauldrons of noodles covered in akh, fresh bread, and wheels of cheese.

The beer was almost gone, and they were at the height of the singing when a messenger poked his head in and announced to Manuel and Mono that General Steenhur had ordered that they be issued with tropical kit very shortly. There would be a full inspection, section by section, immediately afterward, and then they would go aboard the
Barley
.

The orders were not unexpected, except for the tropical kit. It was clear they were not going to Axoxo. This was generally welcomed since Axoxo meant marching hundreds of miles across the windswept Gan and then a siege campaign amid snow and ice in high mountainous country.

Tropical kit sounded far more promising, at least to dragonboys.

Evening arrived and with it came the new kit. Lightweight jackets and pantaloons, cotton shirts and mosquito netting, a wide-brimmed hat for protection against the sun. There were any number of new medicines both for boys and dragons. Anti-vermicides, fungicides, and fresh supplies of Old Sugustus's disinfectant and liniment, bales of bandage, poultice covers, sterilized thread, even new needles.

Relkin had already acquired several choice items that were rare, including a lightweight belt with compartments to take many small items. Then there were a pair of well-fitted, legion sandals. These were hard to get. Swane was already cursing the ones he'd been issued.

Back in his stall, he packed everything away in his knapsack and roll, and went over all his equipment for one final check. Everything was present.

He heard Dragon Leader Wiliger's voice in the next stall, the inspection had begun. Relkin waited confidently.

Wiliger appeared a moment later, still clad in his odd, self-assembled antique uniform. However, he wore no cap badge, the flashy oversize thing was gone.

Wiliger nodded curtly to him, all friendliness forgotten.

"At ease," he said, and then began to call out each item on the long list of equipment.

Relkin produced them or pointed to them one by one until they came to "Tail Sword, double-cross karket style."

There was no tail sword, it was missing from its scabbard. Relkin looked to the dragon, but found no answer there.

"Tail sword, Dragoneer Relkin?"

"It seems to be missing, Dragon Leader."

"Dragoneer Relkin," said Wiliger in a bored and disgusted tone, "it cannot
seem
to be missing. Either you have a tail sword or you do not."

"Do not, sir."

"Why not, Dragoneer?"

"Don't know, sir."

Wiliger peered intently at him.

"Dragoneer, if you try and play games with me, I will break you, I swear it. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir, but I truly do not know. I only just this moment discovered that the sword is missing. I checked yesterday. Everything was correct."

"Well, it's not good enough. Jump down to the armory and get another, and hurry, because we're leaving very soon."

Relkin jumped, his mind whirling over the possibilities. It was hard to imagine that anyone would steal a tail sword. Bazil used an unusual style, with two big raised crosses on the hilt, it went better for his unusual, "broken" tail.

The armorer was displeased. He broke anew into his peevish lecture about the expense of replacing these weapons. Then he reported that there were no tail swords in inventory.

Relkin begged him to check the depot. After a long wrangle an assistant was sent. Relkin waited, anxiously biding his time.

At last, with the cornet blowing for assembly, the assistant came back with a worn, but serviceable tail sword. It was a karket, but with a single knob for the gripping tail. The dragon would be sure to complain about it.

In which case he could explain what had happened to the old one. Relkin ran back to the stall, pulled on his pack, tucked the tail sword into Bazil's kit, and marched out beside his dragon with the drum thumping and Dragon Leader Wiliger calling out the step.

Down the hill they went, past curious groups of men standing outside the taverns and clubs.

At the dockside they embarked on lighters that bore them across the bay to the side of the
Barley
. There they clambered up the ship's side on specially designed rope ladders made of number-ten cable that could bear the weight of dragons.

By the third hour before midnight they were all aboard, along with a thousand legionaries. The galleys produced an evening meal of the usual legion fare and ale to wash it down.

On the tide, the ship pulled up her anchors and stood out into the sound and began the run down to the open waters of the Bright Sea.

The white ships of Cunfshon were the ultimate expression of the power and resourcefulness of the Empire of the Rose. The largest, swiftest vessels in the world, they had carried trade and diplomacy to every harbor and every nation. In extremis they had ferried legions to Ourdh and more recently from Cunfshon to the Argonath during the frantic days of the invasion.

Now they carried a small but powerful army halfway across the world on a desperate bid to snuff out the greatest danger the world Ryetelth had ever known.

Day after day, through a brisk northwest gale the great ships plowed south, keeping the land well sunk to the west. At this time of the year the captains were keenly aware that the gale could swiftly swing about to the northeast and thus turn that western wall of land into a dreaded lee shore upon which any ship might be driven if the gales grew too furious.

As it was they were being driven many leagues to the east, well out of their course, which was south, south and west, directly to Cape Hazard at the southern tip of the continent.

The seas were sharp, short but high, a common and unpleasant aspect of winter sailing in the Bright Sea. Even the
Barley
, at three thousand tons, was behaving wickedly, shoving her nose deep into the troughs and jerking upward on the short swells with a distinctly nervous energy, like that of a startled horse.

The results were predictable. In her holds and all through the lower decks the ship was filled with seasick men.

On her decks were her crew, constantly at work trimming the few sails that they could set, and those were largely furled up themselves. But the wind was variable, always fierce, but prone to sudden changes, and therefore the sails could not be left alone for a moment. Captain Olinas and her first and second mates had been on the quarterdeck all night and all day with three crewmen hauling on the wheel as they ordered shifts in sails. The captain was a weather-beaten woman, at sea since she was eight years old and a full captain in the empire's service for nigh on twenty years. Her face was drawn, but steady, and her eyes flicked constantly to the barometer, checking its steady fall.

Down in the holds with all the seasick men of the Marneri and Kadein legions were thirty dragons without the least hint of sickness. Dragons were amphibious beasts, bred for the ocean, but that was not what protected them, for they were no more evolved to ride in this jerky, leaping fashion across the waves than were men. Instead, it was simply their oddly evolved organs of hearing that employed pads of a stiff jelly. Since men's sense of balance is governed by fluid in the inner ear, the rhythmic shifts of the sea produced the nausea of seasickness. By contrast, dragons balance themselves by the action of stiff hairs growing on the inside of a sinusoidal process at the base of their large brains. They possess no fluid to slosh about and disorient their systems. Thus they remained cheerful and vigorous of appetite no matter what the motions of the ship.

This made life for dragonboys harder than ever. Stifling nausea while fetching cauldrons of hot steaming food was a grim task.

For the fortunate few who were immune to seasickness, there was a lot of extra work. Some of the boys could not drag themselves to their feet. Little Jak was absolutely prostrated, along with Roos, Aris, and Shutz. Relkin, Swane, and Manuel, helped by Mono when he could manage it, brought the food for Alsebra and Oxard, Aulay and Stengo.

The gales lasted almost a week before finally ameliorating and leaving in their wake days of bright sunshine, with steady cold northerly winds that helped drive the fleet south. The motion of the ship became more regular, less impassioned.

They passed the guano islands, beneath great clouds of seabirds, puffins, auks, guillemots, even pelicans, that swarmed about them as they crossed the cold upwelling waters of the Cunfshon current.

The guano islands themselves were visible only as distant blurs of grey on the horizon, soon lost behind. The seabirds disappeared by the end of the day, about the same time that the hardier souls among the sick recovered enough to take a turn on the foredeck, which was allowed to the passengers, when conditions were favorable.

On the tenth day out Relkin came on deck in the forenoon, to draw some of the good, clean, but cold, air into his lungs. The atmosphere below was growing strong. Thousands of men and dozens of dragons confined in packed quarters were producing a fetid stench despite rigorous, daily cleanings and scrubbings. Having so many men and dragons had forced the ship's carpenters to cut many new heads, but during the gales many men had been unable to face the heads, located along the bows of the ship, below the forecastle. Consequently the bilges had grown foul and had had to be pumped clean with fresh seawater every day. Captain Olinas ordered up a wind sail every so often to direct a freshening blast belowdecks, but nonetheless it was growing close down below.