Dragons of War (7 page)

"Note it," said the center tribune, Commander Vodt.

"Furthermore," said Prosecutor Jenshaw, "it should be noted that we have already shown that Dragoneer Relkin has a tendency to break discipline and to take irregulatory actions, possibly even criminal ones."

Advocate Sweeb was on his feet. "Objection, my lords of the tribunal, no criminal activity has actually been mentioned in these proceedings, other than the crimes charged, namely murder and attempted robbery."

The tribunals looked to one another, eyebrows rose and fell. Commander Vodt nodded slowly.

"Objection overruled. We will allow the statement as it stands."

"But, my lords—"

"But us no buts, Advocate. Carry on, Prosecutor."

"The people's prosecutor has no further questions for the witness."

Relkin sighed. Digal Turrent had done his level best to sink them. They were to be branded as untrustworthy types, ready to slink off at the slightest chance for illicit activities.

Advocate Sweeb advanced to the chair.

"Dragon Leader Turrent, for the record we must ask, how long have you commanded the 109th Marneri Dragon Squadron?"

For the first time, Turrent looked less than completely confident.

"Three months now, although I had a couple of months before that when I was here at Dalhousie but had not yet been assigned to a squadron. I studied the 109th at that time. I knew them well before I ever took command."

"Then you must have noted that Dragoneer Relkin and the dragon Bazil of Quosh have an exceptional record of battle honors."

Turrent shrugged. "Well, they have been in some campaigns."

"Now, Dragon Leader, surely that is an understatement. The dragoneer has five combat stars and three campaign ribbons."

"As to the particular numbers, I could not say."

"And yet you said you had studied the 109th very carefully before you took command."

Turrent shifted uneasily. "I must have forgotten."

"I will refresh your memory, then. They served in the winter campaign against the Teetol. They fought their way across the Gan to Tummuz Orgmeen. They fought in Ourdh last summer and earned more honors there."

Turrent looked as if he had a stomach pain.

"Rather a lot of honors for someone who is barely seventeen, wouldn't you agree?"

Turrent set his mouth in a grim line.

"Suppose so."

"In addition, the dragoneer has one other decoration, the Legion Star, awarded for courage and devotion to duty beyond any requirement. Awarded, I might add, very seldom indeed."

"Yes, Advocate," murmured Turrent.

"So, whereas you have commented quite unfavorably on the characters of both dragoneer Relkin and the battledragon Bazil of Quosh, you admit that they have obviously served the legion very well."

Turrent nodded unwillingly. "Well, I suppose you could draw such an inference."

Sweeb swung back to the tribunes.

"The defense asks the court to note that record of distinguished service and to set it against the charges of insubordination that have been made here by Dragon Leader Turrent."

Vodt nodded. "It will be noted."

The bell on the gate tower rang for the hour. Commander Vodt slammed his hammer to end the hearing for the day. Relkin rose and filed out with Advocate Sweeb at his side, murmuring encouragement.

"General Wegan speaks tomorrow. He will validate your claim."

"If dragons can't testify, then it's my word against the crew of the
Calice
. I'm doomed."

"Dragon testimony will be difficult to present. Dragons are beloved on the battlefield but are not respected in our courts and tribunals. It is a difficult area for many people, they are deeply ambivalent about our great reptilian friends."

"It's all right if we die for them, you mean, but we ain't good enough to have the same rights." Sweeb smiled slightly at the youth's total identification with the dragons.

"Now, Master Relkin, I feel that you are perhaps a little jaundiced in your opinions right now. It's understandable, but…"

"But me no buts, Advocate," murmured Relkin.

Relkin knew the way things were, which was one reason he'd been so anxious about the entire venture, from the moment he'd heard the news at the dockside in Dalhousie.

"What did you say?" said Advocate Sweeb sharply, sensing impertinence. Sweeb felt the difference between them very keenly. His soft plump pinkness against the dragonboy's lean, muscled tan for example.

"Look, Advocate, there's folk here that want to hang me over this, and all I was doing was saving the life of my dragon's very own young one, his daughter. So I don't take it well that the court will not recognize either my dragon or his wild mate. Dragons are intelligent, different from us, but intelligent nonetheless. It's ridiculous to say anything else. What other animals in the world can we converse with?"

"Agreed, Dragoneer, agreed, but we have to work around the restrictions, that is what we have to do. Even if a battledragon was allowed to testify that would not solve our greatest problem, for the wild dragon could never be asked to take the witness chair."

They had to pass the sisters of Trader Dook, who crowded to the end of their row and stared at Relkin with bitter eyes, as they did every time the tribunal adjourned.

"You will hang, dragonrat!" said one of them quite distinctly.

Sweeb looked across angrily, but said nothing.

Outside, Relkin noted the pie sellers and water wagons serving the crowd. There was big interest in the case now. Something told him that the tribunal was going to recommend a court-martial. The case provided a handy political test for the political establishment of the Middle Argo towns. The people of the Argo were now numerous enough to feel secure. The country was fast being settled. Why did they need these expensive legions sitting in their midst, eating them out of house and home? Especially those dragons, who could eat a houseful of food in a single sitting!

As a result, there had been a campaign of subtle and not-so-subtle denigration of the legions. The occasional criminal acts committed by legionaries were always played up, along with loud complaints concerning taxation and the cost of the legions. Thus for the legion command, it might be necessary to make an example of Relkin and Bazil to satisfy public opinion, which had become convinced that the famous dragon had gone on a slaughterous berserk and had slain who knew how many honest folk whose bodies had simply not yet been discovered.

The fact that the killing had actually been done by the dragonboy and not the dragon did not matter a whit to the kind of crowd ready to believe these fantasies. There are always those with a sour disposition, eager to avoid responsibility, desperate to evade paying a beek for the common defense. To such folk Trader Dook was already a kind of hero, an honest man trying to make a living in trade, who was set on by a mad dragon and slain aboard his own ship.

The popular imagination could run far on such fuel. Even worse in many ways was the involvement of the green dragoness and the two youngsters.

Wild dragons were the stuff of nightmares, even more terrifying than the troll armies of the great enemy. Such dragons were no longer seen in the land of Kenor, but were rumored to visit the high valleys of Mt. Ulmo and Mt. Snowgirt in Tunina to the north. Such dread creatures were said to be able to eat a whole herd of cattle in a night.

Thus the entire case was cast in a dire light for the popular imagination. There would have to be a court-martial. Relkin gulped. That meant there absolutely had to be dragon testimony, otherwise the trader's sisters would most definitely see him hang before Fundament Day.

He bade Advocate Sweeb good day and returned to the quarters of the 109th. His dragon was waiting in their stall, outwardly calm and dour, but inwardly, Relkin knew, seething with anxiety.

Briefly he described the day in court. The dragon nodded as if all his suspicions had been confirmed.

"So, we are doomed. You will be hanged, and I am to be sent back to Quosh on half rations and made to work in the fields."

Relkin shrugged hopelessly.

"Looks that way, but Advocate Sweeb says we mustn't give up hope."

"We have no hope. I don't want to go back to Quosh and farm."

"Not that bad, you know. You'll get your own dragoness to live with."

The dragon hissed indignantly. "It will not be
my
dragoness. Mine is over the river, hunting in the forests."

Relkin pursed his lips. There was nothing to say. The wild dragoness and the young had chosen not to return to the fort with Bazil. In truth, there was no place for them there. In the current situation, they would be a sore embarrassment to the legion and spur unrest in the town.

The curtain pulled aside, another, even vaster bulk slid into the stall. Suddenly the place was crowded. Relkin climbed up into his cot and got above the massive dragons.

Their visitor was the Purple Green, the largest dragon in the legions and a former wild dragon who had lost the power of flight when his wings had been clipped by the enemy. The Purple Green had once contested with Bazil for the green dragoness herself. Since then he and Bazil had become fast friends.

"I heard that it went badly today," began the great wild one in his usual manner, getting straight to the bad news.

"It did not go well," said Relkin from his cot.

"This means the same thing as badly, right?"

"Right."

"Humans have many words and often turn them inside out. It is hard sometimes for a dragon to understand why." The huge wild one settled himself and exchanged handclasps with Bazil. The dragons spoke together in dragon speech.

Relkin gave a mental shrug. Dragons were utterly confident that they were the superior species. It was better to let them think this way, it made life easier for the poor, overworked dragonboy.

The Purple Green continued to press.

"So now we must consider what to do. We cannot let them hang the boy."

"I suppose not," said Bazil.

For some reason this annoyed Relkin beyond endurance, and he spoke up.

"And what do you think you can do to stop them? What can anyone do? Run off and live wild in the forest?"

"Why not?" said the Purple Green.

They fell silent. Relkin cursed himself for bringing up the idea.

"Because we'll starve. Dragons eat too much to live wild."

"Nonsense," said the Purple Green, "I, the Purple Green of Hook Mountain, lived many years in the wild. I roamed from Dragon Home to Mt. Ulmo, all the length of the north-land. I went where I willed, and I ate whatever I found there."

"But that was when you had wings," said Relkin, "and now you fight for the legions and eat legion food because you would have starved ta death without them. You think Baz and I can make it as hunters? We haven't hunted since we were youngsters back home in the village."

"We three will go; we will hunt together. I have learned many things while I lived among humans. There are many ways to hunt."

Relkin suppressed his immediate answer. The thought of trying to hunt deer and elk and suchlike with a pair of huge, ground-bound dragons for company was too ludicrous for words.

"And what about Manuel, what does he say?" Manuel had done wonders in his months with the Purple Green. Although there was a certain distance between them, Relkin respected Manuel's skill with the dragon. Relkin had cared for the Purple Green himself and understood how damnably difficult it could be. The wild one's temper was volcanic and easily awoken. Manuel rode out these tantrums with commendable aplomb.

The Purple Green snorted with disdain at the mention of Manuel, however. This surprised Relkin, for he had always thought that the Purple Green liked the new dragonboy. He had always said so, usually on his way to condemning Relkin for some dereliction of duty to dragonish comfort.

"You haven't told Manuel of your plans then?"

"Boy knows nothing. I cannot trust him on this matter."

"Great," muttered Relkin, "we run off to the woods, and I have to take care of both of you."

"You did it before. You did well. I understand that now.

At the time I did not realize. I was ignorant of these matters. You did good job, you can do it again."

Relkin felt his cheeks color.

"You're crazy, I am not going off to the forest to look after the two of you while we starve to death."

"So you want to stay here and be hanged?"

Relkin's anger skidded to a halt. He looked down, unable for the moment to meet inquisitive dragon stares. He knew it was useless to lie, because they would sense it at once. They were uncanny that way, dragons, once they knew you, they knew you through and through, every last weakness.

"Look," he changed the subject in desperation. "I want to get some sleep. Let's talk about this tomorrow. I have to sit in that courtroom all day."

The dragons looked at each other. Tails twitched and big eyes winked. They quietly slipped out of the stall and made their way down to the exercise paddock.

Relkin lay there and tried to sleep. It wasn't easy. The noose was closing in, just as so many had predicted. More than anything he hated the thought of Dragon Leader Turrent being able to watch him hang.

Advocate Sweeb was doing his best, but he wasn't making any progress. Everything would depend on General Wegan's testimony on the next day, and that would come to little more than another character reference. The general had trusted the dragonboy. The problem remained. Without dragon testimony, he could hope for little.

His thought glanced away for a moment to his friends, far off in Marneri and beyond. Lagdalen and her baby, and Hollein Kesepton, who was in his home city for a spell of relief duty and thus could live with Lagdalen and his daughter. How would they receive the news that a certain dragonboy had been hanged for murder at Fort Dalhousie?

And further away, where ever she happened to be, what would the Grey Lady, the witch Lessis, have to say when she was told? If they even informed her, in the scale of things what did the death of one dragonboy in one fort in Kenor matter? And she was a Great Witch with power beyond measure in the empire.