Wizardry - The Wizardry Quested Part 14

TWENTY - SKY ZOMBIES.

Well, Dragon Leader thought, at least the rain has stopped. Not that much of an improvement. The air was clammy with moisture and the cold and damp seeped into everything. There were no warming spells which might give them away to the enemy they sought so carefully.

Dragon Leader pulled his inner flying cloak closer about him, breathing in the odor of lanolin as he drew air through the thick wool to try to keep out the cold. Behind him nearly a full squadron of the North's dragon cavalry spread out in stepped formation. It was no comfort to him to know the riders were all as miserable as he was.

Somewhere ahead of them laya"what? The forces of the Enemy. Probably other dragon cavalry, so the Watchers said, but his job was to find out for certain. His other job was to be cautious in doing it. Well enough, this wasn't the time for open battle if it could be avoided, and he and his troop would go carefully.

He scanned the sky ahead, eyes always moving, looking off the center of his vision to catch any movement. Not that he could see far. The wan winter sun was nearly at its zenith, but below them was a solid gray ma.s.s of fog-like cloud, tinged with rainbow where the sun caught it right.

Dragon Leader s.h.i.+fted uneasily in his saddle. He didn't like this at all. Fighting in clouds was bad business and according to the Watchers their quarry preferred clouds and darkness to light. That was odd, but not unknown.

Dragons, being sight hunters, preferred to fly by day. Just one more peculiarity to weigh upon him.

aDragon Leader,a came a voice in his ear. aDragon Leader, we have your target at widders.h.i.+ns low. Range about three leagues.a Dragon Leader did not break communications silence to acknowledge the message. Instead he rose in his stirrups and signaled his squadron into attack formation. The less magic used now the harder it would be for the enemy to detect them.

Behind him the squadron tightened up and sorted itself out into pairs and simultaneously into a box formation. Almost, Dragon Leader nodded approval. Weeks of hard drill had paid off. The movement was as smooth and precise as any veteran squadron during the long war against the Dark League. The dragons were carefully s.p.a.ced to provide the maximum amount of maneuvering room consistent with interlocking fields of fire. Dragon Leader reached behind him in the saddle and drew his great bow from its scabbard. Then he selected an iron death arrow from the quiver by his right knee and fitted ft loosely to the string. With a practiced motion of the right hand he pulled the straps securing him to the saddle tight, but not too tight. Then he turned his full attention to scouting ahead.

The white crystal set into his saddle horn began to darken on the left side. Magic in that direction, then. He signaled the squadron onto a new heading. The magic detector was pa.s.sive and emitted almost no magic of its own, but it was not very sensitive. He knew that the Watchers in the Wizards' Keep were following them closely, but at this distance they could not follow the battle in fine detail. Once the enemy was sighted they' would be able to see through the eyes of the dragon riders but for now they could not help them locate the enemy.

Following the directions of the detector Dragon Leader led his squadron lower until his dragon's wingtips almost touched the rainbow-tinged clouds. Still no sign of the enemy, but something was making the dragons very nervous. Dragon Leaders own mount nearly s.h.i.+ed beneath him and out of the corner of his eye he saw others toss their heads in unease.

One of the flight leaders waved, relaying a signal from further out in the patrol. Dragons in sight! Dragon Leader strained his eyes and saw dark, amorphous forms rising out of the clouds toward them. With a touch of his knees he wheeled his mount around to set up an attack as soon as the enemy came out of the clouds.

Definitely ridden dragons. But there was something strange about them. Dragon Leader pushed the uneasiness out of his mind and drew his war bow. Ahead of him the leader of the third, left-most, flight lined up for the first attack.

The enemy dragons glided up out of the clouds with their wings outstretched. First one rider's head broke the mist, then another and another. Apparently oblivious to the threat above and behind them they continued to climb into perfect position for the ambushers.

Dragon Leader watched as the leader of the third flight led the attack in a fast, shallow dive, aiming to fire on the rearmost of the exposed dragons and then swoop away without dropping into the concealing clouds. The rest of his flight would follow him in, each taking the next dragon left in line. If the enemy was really unaware, the lead dragon might not realize the formation was under attack until all his fellows were down.

The flight leaders attack was textbook perfect and his release beautifully timed as he fired the iron death arrow into the enemy dragon's flank. Even from the distance Dragon Leader saw the arrow strike home.

The enemy dragon reared its head against slack reins and looked back over its shoulder at the attacker. Then a burst of dragon fire caught the flight leader and his dragon as they climbed away from me formation, sending them plummeting from the sky in a blazing ma.s.s. Unconcerned by the deadly arrow sticking in its side, the dragon turned to face the oncoming foe.

Another death arrow struck the dragon, and another and another as the remaining members of the flight hastily s.h.i.+fted their aim. One of them tore a hole in the dragon's wing and one pinned the rider to his saddle. The rider was no more bothered than his mount. He merely swiveled in his saddle to send off his own arrow over the dragon's flanks. The draw was stiff, the release jerky and the arrow wavered past its intended target without effect But by this time another Northern dragon and rider were down and the melee became general.

Jerry and Taj were hard at it in the programmers' workroom when Bal-Simba sought them out. The giant black wizard looked as grim as Jerry had ever seen him.

aThere is a new factor we must consider in our planning,a he said without preamble. aThe enemy has a weapon we were not expecting.a Jerry's first impulse was to say something like awhat else is new?a, but the look on Bal-Simba's face stopped him. aWhat?a aAnimated corpses. Our enemy wakes the dead.a aZombies?a aDragons and riders alike.a The distaste was plain on Bal-Simba's face. aSucha"thingsa"are not unknown. But not even the Dark League meddled with them overmuch.a Jerry bit his lip. aWe haven't either, except in movies.a aNo one in the North has experience with them,a Bal-Simba went on. There are tales, however. They all agree they are difficult to create and harder still to control. Nor do they make satisfactory servants. They are merely puppets dancing on strings.a aMaybe this guy's found another way to make them work,a Taj suggested.

aSo it would seem. A strong patrol of dragon cavalry engaged a flight of the Enemy's this afternoon and we lost six riders and as many dragons.a The corner of his mouth quirked up in what might have been an attempt at a smile. aOur riders were using death arrows.a aAnd you can't kill a zombie,a Taj said, aSo how do you stop them?a aThe body must be destroyed so as to render it useless to the animating intelligence. We were finally able to do so, but at a cost far too high. Such things are very hard to stop.a Jerry and Taj looked at each other.

aIf you will excuse me, My Lords, I must call upon the families of the riders we have lost. Should you require further information Arianne will be able to a.s.sist you.a With that he turned and left the workroom.

TWENTY-ONE - STAND TO YOUR GLa.s.sES.

The wing gathered in the tavern that night, but no one was drinking.

Off in the corner three squadron leaders sat with their heads together, talking in low tones. Occasionally one of them would make the hand motions which are the universal language of fliers. Some of the others gathered in twos and threes to talk quietly as well. Most of the riders just sat. Occasionally there would be an outburst of wrath and the sound of a mug shattering as it was thrown against a wall. Dragon Leader stood alone by the bar, sunk in a brown study.

You could have heard a pin drop when Charlie walked through the door.

Seemingly oblivious to the mood of the place he bellied up to his accustomed spot at the bar.

aHeard you boys had a little sc.r.a.p today,a the old pilot said. aHow many did you lose?a aSix,a the man at the bar said shortly.

Charlie gave a low whistle. 'Tough. Really tough. But I've seen worse, believe me. One time in Korea we were still flying P-5ls, we got jumped by a bunch of Migs and lost half our squadron.a Still no one said anything.

aAw, h.e.l.l. Come on boys, the drinks are on me. Bar-keep, set 'em up!a No one moved. No one said a word.

aMy Lord.a Charlie turned and found Dragon Leader standing too close behind him. This is not the time or place for you,a he said quietly. aIt would be best if you go somewhere else.a Charlie opened his mouth, perhaps to apologize, and Dragon Leader moved even closer. aNow,a he said.

Charlie closed his mouth and left.

Karin was late getting home that evening and for some reason that troubled Mick. She had been working with Stigi as she did every day. Since the first time Mick had stayed away from the aerie.

He had heard about the battle and the losses, of course, and he expected she'd spend some time with her squadron mates in the complex, wordless process of pilots' grieving for those fallen. But it was very late indeed when she finally returned to their quarters.

aHi, beautiful,a he said and took her in his arms, only to feel her tense.

aMick, we need to talka Uh-oh, thought Gilligan, who had been married long enough to know what that meant.

He sat down at the table. aWould you like some tea?a Karin shook her head and settled into the chair across the table from him. aI've asked to rejoin my squadron.a aWhat?a That means I must move back to the barracks,a she rushed on, aso I can be ready to fly at an instant's notice.a That's pretty heavy,a Mick said at last.

Karin leaned forward to put her hand on his arm. aIt won't be that bad. There'll still be time to see each other and I'll only be at ready six or seven days out of ten.a aYou know that's not what's worrying me.a Well, not the main thing, he thought.

She hesitated. aMick, we lost too many riders to the zombies. We need every dragon and every experienced rider now.a Mick didn't say anything.

aThis is not like the machines you flew. It is no more dangerous than riding horseback.a And how many people have been killed falling off horses? But he didn't say it.

aThere's a big operation coming up,a he said finally.

aAnd you thought I would stay out of it?a The color drained from her cheeks and she pressed her lips together in a tight line. aWhat do you think I am? Did you honestly believe I would desert my mates at a time like this?a Gilligan gave her his best winsome, little-boy smile. aWell, I could hope.a As soon as he said it he knew it was wrong. Karin went even whiter and stood up so fast she almost knocked the chair over.

aI must return to my squadron,a she said woodenly. aI will be back later for my things.a Gilligan opened his mouth to apologize, to say the words that would make her stay. But there were no words, so he just nodded and looked at his hands.

Sometimes it's worth freezing your buns off just to be alone. Jerry stood on the battlements and stared off into the night. The stars were back again, s.h.i.+ning like bright, hard bits of metal in a crystal clear sky. The air smelled of cold and nothing else. Even the sounds were gone.

Jerry slipped one hand out of the relative warmth of his heavy cloak and pulled the fur-trimmed hood closer around his nose. The fur smelled faintly of cedar even in the nose-numbing cold. He made no move to go back in.

So stand to your gla.s.ses steadya This world is a world full of lies.

It was Charlie, obviously very much the worse for wear. From the way he was staggering Jerry was afraid he was going to fall off the walkway into the courtyard two stories below.

He was bareheaded and wearing only his flight suit and flying jacket; not even gloves. The old pilot must be freezing in this weather but he seemed too full of drink and his own concerns to notice.

aHow ya doin'?a he slurred as he came up to Jerry.

aOkay,a Jerry said neutrally, hoping he'd take the hint.

He didn't aI got my ears pinned back good an' proper tonight,a Charlie told him with an air of alcoholic confession. aI b.u.t.ted into something that wasn't my affair, squadron business, and I got what I d.a.m.n well deserved.a Jerry nodded and didn't say anything.

aA squadron's like a family, son. There's times outsiders are welcome and there's times they ain't. Forget that and you're gonna get slapped down.a Some comment seemed called for. aYou must have run into that in Vietnam,a Jerry said.

Charlie leaned on the parapet and stared out into the freezing night.

aI wasn't in Vietnam,a the old man said softly. ah.e.l.l son, I didn't learn to fly until I was thirty-two.a He turned back to look at Terry.

aYou know what I was? I was an accountant. A G.o.dd.a.m.n accountant! But I got lucky and I was in the right place at the right time and when we went public I walked away with nearly twelve million bucks.

aA good chunk of that went to my second wife, but I was still left with more money than any normal human being can spend in a lifetime of trying. The day we closed the deal, I came out of the lawyer's office, tore off my coat and tie, threw 'em in a trash can and I vowed I'd spend the rest of my life doing exactly what I wanted.

aOh yeah, I got what I wanted.a He smiled off into the darkness but there was no humor in it. aMaybe what I deserved.a Charlie hawked and spat out into the crystal night.

aThirty years of doing just what I wanted and you know what that adds up to? Not a bucket of warm p.i.s.s.

aI'm sixty-three years old, I got a drinking problem, diabetes and a cardiac arrhythmia that's probably gonna kill me if the other stuff don't get me first.a aSounds like you had fun, anyway,a Jerry said neutrally.

Charlie turned to face him. aYou know what I found? Too much fun ain't fun any more. You need some kind of purpose to make it all mean something.a He waggled a finger under Jerry's nose. aNow you, you've been dragged from pillar to post. But you know what? All of that was for a cause. It means something.

Take this here. You're gonna go charging off to rescue your lady love and maybe save the world aMaybe you'll win, maybe you'll lose. But when it comes to the end you're gonna be able to look back on your life and say it meant something.

aSon,a the old man said, afrom where I stand you've got nothing to complain about.a

TWENTY-TWO - FINDING A PLACE.

Mick Gilligan peered down onto the floor of the aerie, trying to pick a familiar blond head out of the dozen or so mounted dragon riders a.s.sembled below for the dawn patrol. But the aerie was softly lit and the observation balcony where he stood was high. He thought Karin was the third in line, but he couldn't be sure.

At an unheard command the first dragon lumbered forward, spreading its great bat wings as it picked up speed. In five strides it blocked the daylight and then it was out of the cave, its wings beating strongly. By that time the second dragon had started its run and the third was straining forward. One by one the beasts and their riders poured put of the door and vanished into the bright blue beyond. Mick waited until the last of them had gone and turned away as the grooms and other ground crew swarmed out onto the floor to prepare for further operations.

aForgive me, My Lord,a came a gentle female voice behind him. aYou seem troubled.a Gilligan turned and started when he found himself face-to-face with a dragon.

aYeah, I guess I am,a Gilligan said, ignoring his questioner's physical form.

aYou are worried about Karin, are you not?a aShe asked to be put back on flying status. We had a big fight.a aShe is a dragon rider, after all,a Moira said gently. aAs a flier, surety you can understand how she feels.a aYeah, but it's different from this side of the fence.

I'm getting some of my own backa His mouth quirked bitterly. aYou know something? I don't like it.a s.h.i.+t! Telling my problems to a dragon. Well, it was no crazier than the rest of this place.

aWe seldom do,a Moira agreed. For a while both of them stared at the bustle of activity in the aerie below without talking.

aWhat brings you here?a Gilligan asked.

aWatching me dragons. I enjoy ita"or rather this body enjoys it.a She sighed. aSometimes I am not sure of the difference any more.a Charlie was at Bal-Simbas door early the next morning. That was surprising because the old man had established himself as a late riser. Looking at his generally disheveled condition and smelling the alcohol on his breath, Bal-Simba surmised he hadn't been to bed yet.

aI need to talk to you,a Charlie said without preamble.

aI am at your disposal, My Lord.a Bal Simba gestured to a chair but Charlie kept standing.

aYou've got a big show coming up,a Charlie said. aI want a piece of it. Flying.a Bal-Simba c.o.c.ked his head. aOn a dragon? I believe your machine will not work here.a aYou mean it won't fly under its own power,a Charlie corrected, aBut if you guys can float a big rock you can float a plane.a aPerhaps, buta"without meaning offensea" what can your craft do that dragons cannot do better?a A broad smile spread over Charlies face. aConfuse the h.e.l.l out of 'em.a aEh?a aYou need a distraction, right? Okay, Mick and the nerds tell me that comes down to an ECM problem. Electronic Counter-Measures,a he added quickly at Bal-Simba's puzzled look. aYou need something that will spoof them into thinking you're coming at them from one direction when you're really gonna hit them blind-side.a He leaned forward and put his hands on Bal-Simba's work table, heedless of etiquette. aSo we load the Colt up with all the magic it can carry and your wizards wave their wands to make it fry. I go blasting toward the Enemy, radiating magic like it was going out of style. They'll know something is coming, but they won't know what. It will be radiating enough magic to cover every dragon in the North.a In spite of himself, Bal-Simba nodded.

Charlie grinned. aThe best part of it is that even once they acquire me visually they still won't know what the h.e.l.l they've got They can't just break off like they would with a drone.a The big wizard grinned mirthlessly. aYou mean they would continue to pursue you and try to destroy you. We cannot spare the dragons to protect you. Not a safe position, I fear.a The old man grinned back equally mirthlessly. aIt's sporty son. Downright sporty.a Bal-Simba looked more closely at the pilot, and thought hard. The man was apparently sincere and undoubtedly sober enough to understand what he was suggesting. Having such a strange thing at the center of the magic would indeed confuse the Enemy.

aI will see what I can do,a he told Charlie.

Dragon Leader ignored the constant boom of the sea as it crashed on the nearly vertical rock. He was not much given to conversation and there was no need as long as he kept an eye on his wingman. His wingman had climbed to the top of the pinnacle to watch for intruders. Dragon Leader surveyed the jagged fissures, overhangs and holes in the rock.

Their dragons were resting in the great crack that nearly cleaved the place in two. They were invisible, save from the proper angle at close range.

They had not sought a confrontation with the Enemy's dragons this time. Instead they had sneaked south by a roundabout route to this place and several others similarly situated.

The Executioner was as bleak and unattractive as its name. A snag of red-black volcanic rock thrusting above the restless gray sea like a monstrous fang. All around it lay Murder Shoals, the names a tribute to the terror these places inspired in those who sailed the Freshened Sea.

Even here, as far ainlanda as it was possible to get on this place, spray stung his eyes. The chill, wet air sucked the heat from his body. It was not a comfortable place, but he had known that before he came. Comfort was not one of the parameters he was interested in.

Dragon Leader nodded to himself. The place would do.

Mick was having a drink in the pilot's bar. It was the one place in the Wizards' Keep where he felt really comfortablea"as long as Karin and the members of her squadron weren't around.

Drinking by myself again, he thought. I gotta cut this out. It wasn't as bad as Vegas. He wasn't drinking as much and it was brown ale rather than whiskeya"which apparently didn't exist herea"but he'd still rather be doing other things.

Part of it was that he felt like a rat and he didn't know how to apologize, or even if the apology would be accepted if he could find a way to make it. He'd have to get Karin alone and try sometime soon, but she was avoiding him and staying down in the pilots' quarters.

He took another swig of ale as someone came over to join him. Looking up he saw it was one of the squadron leaders from the air wing.

aJoin you?a Gilligan waved him to a seat.

aThe wing was out practicing today,a said the man, whose name, Gilligan remembered, was Martinus or something like that.

Gilligan nodded aI was watching from the war room.a aWhat did you think?a aStill needs a little work.a They say you've done operations like this before,a Martinus said.