Dragons and Destiny (38 page)

“Got it,” cried
out Danal, gazing into the hole. Robain had the longest arms. Lying
down on the floor he grasped the end of the box whilst Danal helped
by using the shovel to prise it up.

At last the
metal artefact lay revealed and it took only moments for Danal to
prise open the lid and look inside.

“It’s them,” he
said with satisfaction.

“We’d best get
it out of here before the servants get back,” said Tala, “Philip
and the boys too. Did you not say that the coachman will be picking
them up from the soiree?”

“It’s not
heavy,” agreed Robain, “get me a sack or something to cover it with
and I could carry it. I’ll not be happy until its safe with Master
Annert.”

He looked at
his future brother-in-law, “you coming?”

Matt shook his
head. “No, you three go. I’ll clear up here then I think I’ll go
and join Zala and the children. I’ll not say anything. You think
the Militia will be called soon?

Danal
nodded.

“Thought so. If
there is a war, if these Dglai do invade us I’ll probably see you
where the fighting is. I’m in the local Militia although in this
area there’s nothing to fight, hasn’t been for years now. Militia
Officer’s Mess round here is more like a gentleman’s club than
anything else. Still, if I’m called I will go. Tala, you coming to
Cousin Dangfrids with me?”

“No Matt, my
place is here.”

He nodded.

“Don’t do
anything stupid,” he warned. “Zala’ll have the skin off me in an
instant if I let anything happen to you.”

“I’ll try not
to,” said Tala with the hint of a grin.

“Our southern
friends?” Matt enquired, shaking Robain’s hand in solemn farewell
while Tala went in search of a sack.

“I’ll tell them
tonight,” replied Robain. “They’ll be gone when you get back.”

“I
understand.”

Robain
smiled.

“Would you like
to know who exactly has been enjoying your hospitality these last
months?”

“Now I
definitely don’t understand.”

“The
Prince-Heir of Murdoch.”

“Never!”

“I cannot tell
a lie,” said Robain with a straight face.

“This is
amazing news. What will Zala and the children say when she hears?
She’ll probably never forgive you. Wait, I know which one it must
be, it simply has to be young James.”

“Wrong, it’s
Walter, but is real name is Elliot. That’s why they’ll be gone when
you get back. His people will need him.”

* * * * *

The Quorko

The Quorko, the
scout ship of the Dglai, had arrived on its mission to locate the
Nahoko.

The first
Nahoko it dealt with was the one in the uninhabited area of the
southern continent.

As the churned
up dust settled after landing, the Quorko’s occupants got to work,
digits flicking over the touch pads, instructing the computers to
strip the Nahoko of its data. That done an aperture appeared in the
nose of the scout ship and a metal rod emerged. There was a sharp
flash and the Nahoko exploded in flames. The Larg of the Avuzdel
reported what they had seen to the Susalai.

This exercise
was repeated at the next port of call, the Nahoko that had landed
in the woodland at the southern fringe of the smaller northern
continent where the Lai lived.

The Dglai
crewmembers again did not see the watchers hidden in the woods and
would not have worried if they had.

The Lind stayed
still and silent until the Quorko took off then also reported what
they had seen to the Susalai. He warned the other group of Lind
sentinels, those waiting in the northern mountains.

They hid inside
some nearby mountain caves and did not emerge until they heard the
engines of the scout fade away into the distance. They reported
that this Nahoko had also been destroyed.

Divesting the
fourth Nahoko of its information was to prove more difficult for
Quio, the Kran (Commander) of the Quorko. He tracked the faint
entry emission trail of Number Four to the Islands but then it
disappeared. Quio surmised, correctly that it had sunk under the
water and that it was unlikely that any information it held would
prove to be of any value.

He had just
ordered that his scout ship should depart to find the final Nahoko
when the external sensors reported that there was an object in the
water.

It was a
privateer and it was her misfortune to be in the wrong place at the
wrong time.

Quio had his
orders; his scout ship was not to be seen.

The aperture in
the Quorko’s nose cone opened once more and the rod emerged. Quio
pressed the button that would send forth the killing light. The
galley exploded in a gigantic ball of flame. The scout ship hovered
over the area for a while, making sure everything was destroyed.
There was not much wreckage left and what there was charred beyond
all recognition. The Quorko headed south.

Two blackened
heads bobbed to the surface. Treading water, the two pirates
grabbed hold of some of the floating wreckage.

Quio was not to
know that the privateer had not been prowling the seas on its own,
nor that the men on board her sister ship had seen the flash of
light and were rowing as fast as they could towards the spot.

At nightfall,
the crew of the rescuing craft were still rowing as hard as they
could, but this time heading in the opposite direction, west
towards Argyll. Her Captain was an astute and clever man.

He may not have
understood what had happened (the story the two rescued men had
told was unbelievable) but instinct told him that they were telling
the truth.

A ‘flying
thing’ had arrived in the skies that could destroy a ship in the
blink of an eye and if it could do that what other damage could it
do?

Captain Rand
had decided to take the news to the one person on the mainland who
might be able to help.

The Quorko flew
back to the southern continent in search of the last Nahoko.

* * * * *

Robain, Tala
and Danal

It was dusk by
the time Robain, Tala and Danal walked through the holidaymaking
crowds to the Technical Guildhouse. The noisy atmosphere pervading
in Stewarton should have been infectious but the three took no
notice. They went round the back to Master Annert’s private
entrance.

“I hope he’s
put all the record volumes back on the shelves,” said Tala,
“otherwise when everyone returns to work they’ll start
wondering.”

“He will have,”
Robain assured her.

They found
Annert waiting for them in his comfortable salon. He looked rested
though his lined face still showed signs of strain.

“Got it,”
announced Robain as he laid the sack on the table.

“Sure it’s the
one?”

“Positive sure.
Danal opened it. It’s the print-outs all right.”

“Not as many as
I expected,” said Annert, peeping inside.

“The paper is
very thin,” replied Robain.

“And full of
very small printed numbers and letters,” added Tala.

“Niaill will be
here by Midnight Bell,” interrupted Danal who had been having a
mental conversation with Asya. “He, Taraya and Inalei will go to
the Supply Station and then he’ll come here. I’ve said I’ll meet
him there, he’s only been in Stewarton once before and might get
lost.”

“You’re both
welcome to stay the night,” suggested Annert, fingers twitching
with the itch to open the box and to start reading the print-outs
at once. There was no telling what interesting things they
contained.

“Thank you but
I think I’ll be off now. Asya waits. We’ll see you in the
morning.”

Danal left them
with a jaunty wave. The door shut with a bang at his heels.

“You two?”
inquired Annert.

“We have to go
too. We need something to eat and baths, both of us, we’re so
filthy. A decent night’s sleep will help as well. We have to speak
to some friends.”

“I could …”
said Annert.

“Go on,”
grinned Robain, “read all night if you want but remember that
you’ll need all your wits about you for the meeting tomorrow.”

“I might just
have a quick skim through,” said Annert, rubbing his hands together
at the prospect.

* * * * *

The Quorko

Quio was not an
imaginative Dglai. He wondered fleetingly how he could understand
most of what these creatures, these Larg, were saying but he set
that thought aside.

How wonderful a
Dglai would his Leader think he was, he that could communicate with
these creatures so soon and so easily?

He decided not
to tell his superiors.

His four crew
did not question his decision.

It was not the
Dglai way.

* * * * *

Robain and
Tala

Leaving Annert,
Tala and Robain made their way back the Urquhart house. The house
was in darkness. They knew that most of the servants would have
returned by now but their quarters were in the back regions.

Matt had given
Tala the latch key so they could let themselves in.

“Better make
sure the library door is locked,” said Robain. “I’ll do it; you go
and find out if the coachman’s gone for Philip and the others
yet.”

Tala complied,
heading towards the green baize door that led to the kitchens.

“See if you can
find us something to eat,” he called after her.

Having made
sure that the door was indeed locked and the key gone, Robain went
into the withdrawing room where he stoked up the fire before
settling down to wait.

Tala arrived
shortly after with the house-parlour-maid who was carrying a tray
piled high with sandwiches, a jug of piping hot kala which she laid
on the hearth to keep warm and six cups, saucers and plates.

She placed the
tray on the long table. “Master gave orders to cook to prepare this
before he left to join Madam and the children.”

“Are all of you
back now?” enquired Robain.

“All but the
footman and the tweeny,” she replied, bobbing a curtsey. “Mr Dorson
has gone for the Master’s guests, left a quarter bell ago. Will you
be needin’ anything else sir, Cook asked me to ask.”

“Is Mr Dwoles
not around?” asked Tala who had wondered why Cook was asking and
not Matt’s butler.

“Went with the
Master,” she replied.

“Tell Cook that
you can all go to bed,” Tala instructed, “also that I’ll see her in
the morning to discuss what’s to happen with my sister and
brother-in-law away.”

“Very good
Miss.” She bobbed another curtsey and left, closing the door behind
her in the silent way of all experienced house servants.

“He asked Cook
to prepare enough for us all,” said Tala, sitting down in the chair
opposite Robain. “We’ll be needing it before the night is over.”
She yawned, “but I’m tired. I could go to my bed now if not
immediately.”

Robain was
staring in a morose manner at the flickering fire.

“What are you
thinking?” she asked.

“I’m working
out in my head how to tell Philip and the others.”

“The truth?
They’ll need to know sooner or later.”

Robain smiled a
rueful smile.

“Think they’ll
believe it? I can hardly believe it all myself.”

“They’ll
believe you. Baron Ross knows there’s something up already. He’s
not stupid.”

“Why do you
think that?”

“Danal. First,
there was no real reason for Danal to warn him to take care of
Elliot; he was doing that already. It sounded like an excuse to
speak to you. Second, both you and I have been incommunicado for
the gods only know how many bells. Third, Matt insisting that he
send over their clothes to the ambassadors. They could quite easily
have returned here and if the coachman wasn’t available got a
hackney.”

“Four?”

“Four, you’re a
hopeless dissembler, you and Matt both. At breakfast this morning
any fool could have worked out that something serious was
afoot.”

“Philip never
said anything.”

“No, but he is
thinking it. Believe me, he
knows
.”

* * * * *

The Quorko

“We will help
you destroy the humans and the Lind. All we ask in return is some
minerals from the land and food and water when we leave.”

The Larg
neither knew nor cared about minerals - there was plenty of water
but food stocks were another matter.

“We can take
the humans,” Quio said helpfully, “alive or dead, it does not
matter and some of the other species; say one third?”

The Largan
thought for a moment then nodded.

“With one
proviso,” he rasped, “you will leave with us the young of the Lind
and also a small number of the humans. We wish to breed with the
former and have learnt that for some things humans are useful
creatures to have around.”

“Half the Lind
young and five hundred humans,” the Dglai countered.

The Largan was
satisfied.

“We agree.”

When the Dglai
left the Largan gloated over the glories of what was to come. When
a runner arrived, bearing tidings of a small group of Larg from the
small, secret pack who lived on the very edge of the nadlians of
the Larg were approaching, he didn’t blink a furry eyelid.

“They ask for
audience.”

The Largan knew
what the pack represented; he did not wish to hear about what they
wanted to tell him, so full he was about the glorious ascendancy of
the long awaited destiny of the Larg.

“Kill them,”
the Largan ordered before turning away to dream about the victories
and killings to come. He licked the saliva from his lips. He did so
enjoy the taste of man.