“How are they armed?”
“Heavily—three fireball-throwers at least.”
“The villagers of Xerxeon are determined to have their sacrifice, it seems,”
Dornvald said. “They must have told of our direction.” He looked quickly once
more over the terrain ahead. There would be no escape on the flat, open area
stretching away to right and left since the wheeled tractors that pulled the
chariots and fireball-throwers would outrun mounted robeings, and there was
ample space for the King’s soldiery to maneuver their superior force freely. The
only chance was to make the rugged, broken country beyond the rise, where the
going would be slow for vehicles and where riders venturing ahead could be
picked off from ambush. “Our choices have become Horazzorgio on the one hand, or
dragons on the other,” Dornvald declared. “One demon I have met and know well;
the other I know not. On what I know, I would have us cast our lot with the
latter.”
“Methinks we would be well advised,” Geynor agreed.
“Then our dispute is resolved,” Dornvald said, looking from Geynor to Thirg. “We
all shall go.” And louder, to the rear, “Forward to yonder rise, and at speed!
He who fears light in the sky has no place behind me, but among the groveling
farmers of Xerxeon. If dragons would contest our way then so be it, but let it
not be us who show their weapons first. Forward!”
“All units standing by, ready to fire,” a British subaltern’s voice reported to
Colonel Wallis on the radio. “A.P. missiles locked and tracking.”
“Status of remote-controlled gunships?” Wallis inquired crisply.
“Standing by for launch, sir,” another voice confirmed.
“Defenses ready,” Wallis advised Giraud, who was now outside and standing at the
center of the waiting reception party.
A moment of silence dragged by. Then the captain’s voice came from inside the
ship. “Ship One to Surface One. It doesn’t seem to be an attack. In fact I’m not
convinced they even know we’re here at all. They started off fast just after
their tail-end-Charlie arrived up front. It looks more like they’re trying to
lose that other bunch behind them.”
“Surface Two to forward observation post. Do you see evidence of weapons or
hostile intent?”
“Negative, sir.”
“We’ll sit tight and see,” Giraud’s voice said. “Hold it for now.”
“All units, hold your fire,” Wallis instructed.
On the screen of his wristset, Zambendorf followed the progress of the Taloids
coming up the far side of the rise. It was unbelievable— clothed robots sitting
astride four-legged, galloping machines, now only a few hundred yards away.
“Do you see them?” Thirg called as Dornvald glanced back. Thirg was having
enough trouble clinging to the madly heaving mount beneath him as it tackled the
steepening rise, without daring to turn his own head.
“Just coming out onto the flat,” Dornvald shouted back. “At least we’re on” the
open ground. We should gain more distance now.”
“There are heat lights shining from places above us on both sides,” Geynor
called from Dornvald’s other side.
“I see them.”
“What manner of thing shines thus in the desert?”
“Who knows what guards the lair of dragons?”
Dornvald, Thirg, and Geynor reached the top of the rise together with Rex
whirring excitedly a few yards behind, and plunged on over its rounded crest. An
instant later they had crashed to a stunned halt, their mounts rearing and
bucking. The remaining outlaws stopped in confusion behind as they appeared in
ones and twos over the hill.
Before them, towering proudly inside a halo of almost brilliant dragon light,
was the King of Dragons, attended by servants lined up before it in humble
reverence. It was smooth and elongated, and had tapered limbs—much like the
dragon that had appeared over Xerxeon, but far larger. Its eyes shone like fires
of violet, but it made no move as it stood, watching silently. Thirg could do
nothing but stare, dumbfounded, while Dornvald and Geynor gazed at the Dragon
King in wonder. Rex was backing away slowly, and behind them several of the
outlaws had dismounted and fallen to their knees.
Then Thirg realized that one of the dragon’s servants was beckoning with both
arms in slow, deliberate movements that seemed to be trying to convey
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