The Night the Drakes Came

A sixteen of years ago, a giant, flaming star crashed through the night sky and shattered the lands north and east of the Fens of Reur. These lands were dry and rocky, with small rivers that flowed westward, many eventually joining and becoming the Lapis Amnis, a river so wide it was sometimes confused with a sea.

The ground cracked and shook underneath the impact, and Mar from as far west as Split Kalysut and Ufer's Creek claimed they felt it. The explosion of it caused the great trees to catch aflame, and the night sky burned a bloody red. The wizards in Domus Palus claimed they could see the fire, across the great subcontinent of Marrishland. Some of the less wise ones claimed they could feel the heat of it, and many died in duels for their follies.

From the star rose the great drakes, a hundred varieties. Some were dozens of feet tall and ate birds out of the skies. Many were shorter than a Mar's ankle, and came by the thousands with pins and needles tipped in the vicious poison they secreted from their navels. Most were about Mar size, though broader of shoulder and covered in natural armor — armor that protected them from the fire of their destructive landing. They had low, sloping foreheads and thick, stubby tails. They had large, clawed hands strong enough to crush a man's skull between them.

They descended on town after town with metal weapons and no fear of mud or water, and no amount of magic would touch them. Most of these towns — poor and dispirited, for the winter had been harsh and diseases plenty — fell without getting word to the rest of the Mar. No one knew these monsters were coming to destroy them all, except maybe the high wizards of Domus Palus. And what have they done? Nothing.

In sixteen years, the drakes have conquered a large portion of the north and east. The front line stands north of the Fens of Reur, near a town called Mucker's Folly. The people of Mucker's Folly are all but gone from their poor excuse for a town. Night after night for the past season, the town's leaders had discussed, shouted and argued about holding the muddy ground of their stead, of their claim near a creek that may have metal in it. But for the past season, the red they had thought marked iron was clouded with the red they tasted as blood, and they knew the rumors of this invasion were true.

Now, a half-dozen men, the strongest at magic or arms, huddled in the town's largest building, what had belonged to their mayor, who was old and had fled with the women and children. One had barely started shaving. One was missing his right arm, and an eye, and had learned to swing his sword with his left hand. Two were brothers, twins they appeared, save for three years and an inch of hair. One was gigantic, taking up two chairs. And the last could be compared to the fox, and only he wore the markings of a magocrat.

Approaching the town from the south, amiably taking her time and making notes on one of a number of thin strips of leather in her hand — here a distance in paces, here a measurement of the latest kalysut, here a short description of the sun's and moons' positions, here a short treatise on what may be a new type of insect — was Affe Kurzeit, Domus Palus' envoy to the struggling north. Mucker's Folly wasn't the only town to send someone to the Mardux, who had enslaved each of the mundanes who dared approached him but sent Affe to this town to see exactly what was going on.

Affe was young, mid-sized, dark-haired and blue-eyed. In a crowd of a hundred, she would go unnoticed except she would be the one pulling on the edge of the tarp covering the statue to see what was underneath it, and causing it to be displayed half-finished. And she would not run away or stand in stupor. She would pick up the chisel to try to finish it.

So Affe reached the town at dusk. She counted the number of homes (twelve) and gauged how long ago the townsfolk had left (three days) to within an hour, based on the litter, disrepair and encroachment of kapzweed, which grows up to four inches per day. Around mid-day, too, she had found the tracks of their departure and followed it north to the town. It had rained twice since they had left.

Her mistake, though, was assuming the town was empty, so she nearly leapt out of her skin when the fox-faced man appeared in one of the doorways and called out to her.

"Ho, there," the man said. "Would you like some soup?"

Inside, she was surprised to see the small band of men — and boy, she corrected herself.

"How do you think you will hold off the drakes, just this handful of you?" she said, removing her boots.

They looked at each other, and the fox-faced man walked past her.

"Maybe you should have some soup before making judgments," he said.

"I don't think that was a judgment," she said, sitting down next to the giant. "I think I cut past all the pleasantries and got to the heart of why five men and a boy are still in a town of about thirty that was mostly abandoned three days ago." She paused to think. "Two days, ten hours and, probably, twenty minutes. Where were they headed?"

There was a brief silence, then a snicker from the boy. The giant laughed out loud, shaking the table. The one-eyed man coughed into his hand. The brothers grinned. Only the fox-faced man didn't laugh, putting a bowl of soup in front of her with enough force that it sloshed over and dribbled into her lap. It was hot. She pulled her spoon from her pack, sloshed a little of her drinking water into the soup to cool it off, and started eating, watching them over her bowl.

"I am Gabel," said the fox-faced man. "You could give us your name."

"Affe," she said. "I've come from Domus Palus."

They laughed again. Alter, the one-eyed man, said, "Our messenger must've arrived, then."

"So the Mardux knows of the towns' plight," Ries, the giant, rumbled. "He has sent help."

"Help?" Knut, the boy, said nervously. "She's cute, but ..."

Kopie, the younger brother, laughed, staring at Affe. "Don't underestimate a woman who walked all the way from the city alone. She had to cross the Lapis somewhere, eh, Affe?"

"And your mother, she's the one who cut off Alter's arm when it had to be. You couldn't do that, Knut," Shilling, the older brother, said.

"So tell us, Affe," Gabel said. "Are you our salvation?"

Affe slurped her soup. "I heard of no messenger," she said. "The Mardux sent me to map the area between Domus Palus and Mucker's Folly. Am I at the correct town?" They nodded. She smiled. "Then I head back in the morning."

"Is there an army on your heels?" Knut asked.

"No."

"Was one getting ready when you left?" Alter asked.

"No."

"Is the Mardux doing anything for us?" Kopie asked.

Her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. "I don't know," she said at last. "I haven't actually met him." She paused as this settled in. Ries and Gabel exchanged glances full of some meaning she didn't know. Shilling never took his eyes off her, but they had hardened. Knut nearly had a tear in his eye, and Alter, too. For the youngest and oldest, life could still change the most. Kopie tried to mimic his brother, but didn't seem to have the same steely resolve.

"Good soup," she said, pushing the bowl away from her. "So, can you answer my question now? How do you intend to hold off the drakes that will come down on you, with just a bare handful of men?"

Ries's hand swallowed her shoulder, and his breath rasped in her ear. "With the men the Mardux promised he would send to protect us."

Gabel leaned close, too, his shadow looming over the table. His eyes bored into hers, icy blue chips. She stared back at him calmly. He opened his mouth, but Shilling interrupted him.

"Leave off, Gabel. How is this her fault?"

The fox-faced man closed his mouth, and his features shifted from anger to sternness. He blinked and took a deep breath, then stood up straight again and smiled. Ries moved his hand off Affe's shoulder. Kopie wiped his forehead, and Knut barked a short, loud laugh. Alter cursed quietly to himself.

Gabel sat down opposite Affe. "Well, young mapmaker," he said, "I would say the Mardux doesn't need to know our plans, since by the time you get back to him, we'll be dead."

"He could've sent weards," Alter said.

"But he didn't," Shilling said, the voice of reason. "He sent someone to gauge the threat to the only place that matters."

Affe met Gabel's eyes. Maybe there was a madness behind them. Maybe there was a spark of hope, that somehow this band of six would survive in a place where, she had heard, every other band died. Their families were behind them. This town was all that remained to all of them.

"Go back to Domus," she said. "Go find your families and go there. I'm sure the Mardux will welcome anyone with information."

"What did he do to our messenger?" Gabel said. "Why did he send you, instead of our messenger?"

"I don't know," Affe said. "Your messenger could've gotten sick. He may have had an accident. Who knows what he thought if he talked to the Mardux and the Mardux said, ‘I'm not going to send anyone but a mapmaker.' Look at how you're reacting. Maybe he realized what I'm telling you. Go to Domus. It's the only way you can be protected."

Knut laughed again, a nervous, twitchy noise that grated on everyone's ears. Alter's curses were slightly better, but still caused Shilling and Kopie to throw glares their way. Affe could feel Ries shifting next to her, trying to get comfortable. Only intense Gabel sat still.

"We have wards up," Ries offered. "Gabel, Knut and I. We have a warning system. The drakes haven't attacked any town in force in a few months."

Shilling spoke up. "The goal is to hold them off as long as possible, until reinforcements arrive, or for the townspeople to get well on their way to Domus."

"They're not heading to Domus, though," Affe said to Gabel. "Are they?"

"No," Alter answered, causing Gabel to scowl. "They're going to the nearby towns to warn them."

"To bring back reinforcements here," Knut said, his voice cracking.

"No they're not," Shilling said. "Don't lie, Knut. We told them not to come back. We're buying them time."

"All right, all right!" Gabel finally broke in irritably. "The mapmaker's leaving in the morning anyway. Right?" Affe nodded. "Right. So Ries, Kopie, you're first watch. Alter, Knut get to sleep."

"I don't know how I can sleep," Knut said.

"I don't care how you get to sleep!" Gabel roared. He took a deep breath, visibly calmed himself. "Just sleep," he said more quietly. "We're not sure how far away the drakes are, but three days ago, Shilling and Kopie saw tracks not a day's walk north of here. So we have to be ready, Knut." He was looking at Affe to see if she understood. She nodded.

"I'm just saying," Knut said quietly, but Alter led him off. Shilling and Kopie walked over and doused the fire, then Kopie and Ries wandered outside. Gabel, scratching the carefully groomed pointed beard on his chin, spoke quietly to Shilling as they buried the coals to use in the morning. Affe, yawning, waited at the table. She thought she could get an early start in the morning if she slept now.

"Don't you feel anything for our plight?" Gabel said quietly, and she started as he sat down across from her. The room was empty except for them.

She could barely make out his features. The door and windows were open, and the only light was from Sendala, just three days past full. She gathered her thoughts while he waited, but she had never been a person to couch her words or actions.

"No," she said, finally. Gabel didn't move. "I can think of a dozen things that use more common sense."

"And yet, you're a mapmaker." He referred to old stories of self-described mapmakers who usually never returned from their first trips. Affe always had suspected those stories. How come the stories were so well-known if the mapmaker never returned?

"A successful one," she reminded him. "Or the Mardux would not have asked me to come. He expects me to return. Staying here to fight your losing battle with you would keep me from doing that."

"Every hand will help," he said. "Maybe better if you're as smart as you say you are."

She shook her head. "The smart thing to do would be to go to Domus. Logically, I can't think of any reason to stay out here."

"Should I describe our reasons for you? Well, Knut was born here. He's the last child we've had since the star fell and loosed the drakes on us. He's also the quickest to learn magic, and may someday become a weard, if he survives. Alter came with the first people to found the town. All of his family has died, or may have died. He doesn't know or care anymore. He lost the arm and eye last year in a building accident. Ries showed up a year ago. He said his town was no more, destroyed by the drakes, and he had run away. This time, he's not running. Shilling and Kopie found the drake tracks. And more: Shilling killed one of them, a scout we think."

"And you? You've got the markings of a magocrat, but you didn't rule this town."

"Me? I'm in voluntary exile from Domus." His face twisted, maybe in a smirk. "I had a misunderstanding with an official of the Mardux and decided I should go elsewhere. This was as far as I got."

"This misunderstanding must have been grand if you're willing to die for a town you've never seen before."

"Isn't that what we expected the Mardux's weards to do for us? Die for the idea of a country? But the Mardux failed us, or failed Mucker's Folly. He may not fail when the drakes get closer to Domus. Somewhere, a hundred miles from the city, he'll decide now he can make a stand. Once everyone out here, who may be rivals, are defeated. How many thousands will he kill because he's afraid to protect us?"

"You could be smart out here. You could band together, make your own city. A dozen towns in a defensible position would last longer than your six people by themselves. If I had found an army of Mar, the Mardux may have sent more help."

"If you had found an army, the Mardux would have sent his apologies," Gabel growled. "He doesn't want any threat to his power, and he's using this invasion to stop it."

"Who cares?" she said, heat rising in her voice. "His decision isn't what's killing all these families. Your refusal to band together, in some sort of passive resistance against a man whose laws carry almost no weight out here, that is what is killing you. Don't expect me to stay to help that." Saying that, she realized he had almost persuaded her to help them. Now, she wasn't sure she would even head back to Domus. "Now, where do you want me to sleep?"

He gestured to the corner between the fireplace and the door. "So you can get an early start in the morning."

She thanked him, and he left the room. Settling in, she found she couldn't sleep.

Knut's decision to stay and fight was brazen youth, but something had frightened him since then. Probably Ries' tales of how his town was destroyed. Shilling actually had killed a drake. She would love to talk to him about that. Kopie obviously followed his brother everywhere. Alter's reason to stay made more sense than anyone's, except age should have brought him wisdom, and he should have persuaded the town to retreat together.

Affe had to admit to herself that she didn't know everything. The rest of the town, for instance, may have voted to keep them here. Shilling or Ries, who seemed the most stable of the group, may have insisted on this crew. Shilling was a good warrior, Knut a young weard. Ries was both, as far as she could judge. Kopie would be a good warrior, because his brother was. And Alter didn't need anyone to convince him. He would have stayed, she thought, no matter what.

That left Gabel, the Domus outcast and strong weard, if she had heard him correctly. Part of her thought, maybe Gabel had picked this battle for them. Maybe he was the reason everyone had stayed. How many other towns had tried to stand with three weards? Two people not even from the town stayed to fight this lost cause so the rest of the people could make an escape. Gabel was commendable. She couldn't question his motives, in the end, because this mission was suicide.

Shilling walked past her, stood in the doorway, then went outside. A few minutes later, Kopie came in. Then Gabel went out, and Ries came in, turning sideways and ducking to get in. Ries stopped in the room, and she saw him looking at her. Then he left.

The moon set, and only the stars' light made anything visible. Affe drifted off into a light sleep.

She snapped awake some time later, just as Kopie was about to shake her awake.

"They're here," he said, so quietly she could barely hear him. "You picked a bad time to come."

Copyright 2005-2007 Eric Zawadzki and Matthew Schick. All Rights Reserved.
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