The Wardog's Coin Read online

  “I ain’t volunteering for nothing! I ain’t getting on one of them elf birds! What if it bites me? What if I falls off?”

  “Excellent, Sergent, your élan and esprit de corps have been noted. I commend you for it and wish you the very best of fortune! Now, find that dratted Shadow and tell him that all the sneaking out of barracks the two of you did last winter should serve you well tonight.”

  “You knew about that?”

  “Of course I did. A pillow tucked under a blanket seldom snores convincingly, Sergent.”

  Shady exchanged a dubious look with me. I could see we was in complete harmony regarding the utter lunacy of the elf plan as it had been explained to us by the mage. The other elf, who I guessed must be one of their raiders, judging by the thick, faded grey leathers he wore instead of the usual silken foppery, didn’t seem to think much of it either. Unlike most of the elves, the raider wore his long blond hair tied tightly back. I suppose they don’t want all that hair whipping around their faces when they fly.

  “So, yer sayin’ ye want us to crawl into the paddock of them pigs and scatter around some little stones?” Shady didn’t even have to give his extremely vulgar opinion of that idea. Everyone, including the elves, could hear the words left unsaid loud and clear in his voice.

  The elf mage stared at us for a long moment before saying anything. I had the impression that he found his auxiliaries to be less than entirely to his satisfaction.

  “Your keen mind cuts directly to the essence of the matter, Man. Yes, you are to sneak in, place the stones precisely as instructed, and then escape as quickly as you can. After a long day’s march up and down the mountain, the boars will be sleeping soundly tonight. And, orcs being orcs, you can safely assume the sentries will either be molesting or attempting to kill each other. While your escape is not strictly vital to the success of the plan, we would consider it to be desirable as we prefer our tactics to remain a mystery to them.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather not get fried with the piggies meself. The question is, is yer damned birdie going to wait for us or not?”

  The mage glanced at the raider in the gray leathers. He shrugged, and I had the feeling this was the first he’d given the matter any thought. Despite myself, I was kind of impressed by the raider. We didn’t see them much, since they usually operated by night, so this was the first time I’d seen one of his type up close and personal. Most elves are sort of fairy-like—they look like they go to war only so they can write poems and sing songs about it later. This one had eyes as hard as an Amorran centurion and looked like he could stare down a stone troll.

  “It would be best to know if the pattern is in place before we unleash the hellfire,” he told the mage in an unexpectedly feminine voice. “Unless the orc camp rouses, we’ll wait for verification.”

  Shady and I looked at each other. The raider was a she-elf! But like I said, she looked like she knew what she was about, so I didn’t say nothing. Neither did Shady.

  “So how you going to set off the fire?” I jerked my chin at the mage. “We taking him along too?”

  The raider stared at me like I was an idiot, then she shook her head and looked at the mage in much the same way I would have looked at the capitaine if he’d told me to take a whore along on patrol.

  “Raiders are mages,” the mage told me.

  “How do you think we control the hawks?” the raider added, disgust written all over a face that was real pretty now that I knowed it belonged to a she-elf. “By training them?”

  Well, yeah, I’d sort of assumed that, but I wasn’t about to admit it to her.

  “So, you gonna take us up now or something?” Shady asked.

  It was his turn for the raider to look at him as if he was some kind of bug that spent its days eating shit.

  “Take you up?”

  “On your bird. Your hawk. You know, so we can get used to it before tonight?”

  The she-elf’s disgust turned to something that might have almost been pity. That actually made it worse, I decided.

  “There is no ‘getting used to it,’” she said, almost, but not entirely unsympathetically. “I am told you are veterans despite your scanty years. Can you accustom a child to war in an afternoon?”

  Fair point.

  Then, unexpectedly, the she-elf laughed. Trust me, off the battlefield, there’s damn near nothing more unnerving than an elf laughing. It was the creepy high-pitched chortle of a madwoman.

  “There are only three things that matter, Man. Dress warmly, don’t scream, and when you spew, try not to get it on yourselves. The pigs might smell it.”

  Shady and I looked at each other again. It didn’t escape either of our attentions that she said when, not if.

  We met up with the elves three bells after the sun had went below the horizon, on the top of the closest hill overlooking the elf camp. One of the raiders was the she-elf in the gray leathers. The other raider was male, and he wore black. They was both already seated up high on their hawks. The mage from earlier that afternoon was standing between the two giant birds. He was tall, but his head barely reached the big leather straps that crossed in the middle of their chests. The Capitaine came along with me and Shady. He didn’t have to do that, but I was glad he came.

  In the torchlight, the two raiders looked more like assassins than scouts, togged in dark leathers and wearing all manner of sharp weaponry strapped and buckled and otherwise stowed about their persons. They meant business, that much was clear. But they wasn’t half as scary as their birds. The cursed feathery monsters stared at us with eyes the size of frying pans, as if they was thinking we was their dinner this evening.

  I don’t know if you ever seen a warhawk soaring high over your head up in the sky. It’s a pretty sight, even if you know it’s got a spotter sitting on its back that just might lead to a sorcerer dropping lightning on your arse or a squadron of elven cavalry riding up right where you don’t want them at the worst possible time. What you can’t tell from watching them fly up among the clouds is how bloody damn big they are!

  And they stink. Ye gods, they stink to high heaven and back again! They say that elves have keen eyesight, and maybe they do, but I think the birdstink burned out their noses a long time ago. I felt my stomach rolling over inside, and Shady was blinking and rubbing at his eyes like they was burning. I hawked and spit, just to get the stink out of my mouth.

  The capitaine, he clapped me on the back. Better you than me, that was what he was thinking, I’ll bet, and I didn’t blame him. But I wasn’t going to show no fear to an elf, especially not a girl one. I took a deep breath—through my mouth, of course—and walked toward the she-elf’s bird, hoping that neither of the two monsters would decide to take my head off with one snap of its giant beak. There wasn’t a ladder or nothing hanging down from the big saddle, though, so I held up my hand toward her, stupidly expecting her to help me up somehow. The bloody she-elf didn’t move a muscle.

  “So, you going to magic me up there, or what?”

  She bared teeth that was a little longer and sharper than I liked. It might have been a smile. Or it might not have.

  “You aren’t riding up here, Man.”

  “I’m not?” I looked back at Shady in confusion.

  He shrugged, and then his eyes grew wide as the realization hit us at the same time.

  “You can’t be serious!” I told the elves, looking from the raiders to the mage. But they was.

  The mage’s eyes glinted with amusement at our expense.

  The she-raider laughed again. Her high-pitched cackle sent shivers down my spine, but it wasn’t as frightening as what she said next.

  “I suggest you look away and hold very, very still, Man. Move at the wrong time, and Ithreras will run his talons right through you. And leave your sword behind. It will only cause harm.”

  I looked at the warhawk’s wicked talons, longer than a sword and thicker than a spear, and shuddered. They would punch through plate armor like a blade stabbing t
hrough a thin sheet of cotton. What they would do to the leather I was wearing didn’t take much imagination.

  But there was no way I was going weaponless into an orc camp.

  “Like hell I’m not taking my sword!”

  “Do you have a dagger?”

  “Of course!”

  “That is all you need.” The she-elf snorted dismissively. “If you are caught, cut your throat with it. Did you think to fight your way out?”

  She had a point. The capitaine put his hand on my shoulder. “Listen to the elf, Sergent. You can give it to me. I’ll keep her safe for you.”

  I glanced at Shady, but he wasn’t wearing nothing but the two daggers he likes, one on each hip. Reluctantly, I unbuckled my belt and slid the scabbard from it.

  The capitaine took it with a grave nod and slapped me on the shoulder again.

  “Never fear, Sergent. God be with you, Shadow. Do kill us those godforsaken boars, and we’ll all live to tell lies about it one day.”

  The mage gave each of us the pouches containing the magic stones, then he told us how they should be placed. The mage made sure we stowed them away safely inside our armor, then he and the capitaine walked down the hill, leaving Shady and me staring enviously after them, wishing we could be just about anywhere else than standing here on the hilltop waiting to get plucked off the ground like a pair of oversized field mice.

  Of course the elves hadn’t told us about this part.

  Without even a hint of warning, their hawks leaped upward in a terrific rush of foul-smelling wind and feathers that made Shady and me duck for cover. We felt pretty stupid once we realized it was only the birds taking off, and I have to say it felt good to be able to breathe normally again. The hawks climbed high over the camp, then started to circle around toward the east. We could just barely make them out in the darkness, thanks to their white underbellies. We turned around to see where they was flying, then, just as they seemed to be heading toward the mountains, they kept curving around until they was behind us. And then the two birds turned our way.

  I looked at Shady. Shady looked at me.

  “You go first,” he said.

  I reached down and broke off two blades of grass. “Long or short.”

  “Short,” he said. “Shit!”

  I grinned and backed away from the top of the hill, giving the first bird plenty of room to swoop down and snatch the unlucky bastard. If the damn thing ran Shady through with its claws, or only picked up part of him, like his head, I figured I could dive and roll down the hillside before the other one could have the same chance with me. No one would blame me, and the Company’d just have to take its chances with the pigs.

  Shady stood with his back to the rapidly approaching bird, his eyes squeezed shut, his shoulders hunched, and his arms spread out wide. I think he wanted to give it as big of a target as possible, but it wasn’t necessary as the creature swooped down and caught him up with the precision of a trained archer. I thought it was the she-elf, but the bird came in and hit so quickly that I couldn’t tell for sure.

  One moment Shady was standing there, and the very next he was gone. He vanished skyward so fast it was as if he’d fallen off a cliff in reverse. The hawk was holding him in both its feet, its yellowish talons forming a cage of sorts about his body. He didn’t scream or nothing, but I just about did. The speed and power of the monster was awesome. It seemed more like an avalanche or a thunderstorm than an animal. But they was quiet, damn near silent, which only made the whole thing that much more frightening.

  It was about that moment that I looked back and saw the other one was already coming for me.

  I spun away, stretched out my arms, and held my breath. I was gritting my teeth so hard I wonder I didn’t crack one just waiting to get snatched up. There wasn’t no warning, just a sudden rush of wind, something squeezed my sides hard, and then the ground was falling rapidly into the darkness. It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would, but it was every bit as scary as I’d imagined. If I hadn’t emptied my bladder before climbing up that hill, I have no doubt I’d have pissed myself and then some.

  I’ve been scared before. But I never been so scared as when that bloody bird went swooping right over the forest with my feet dangling down, damn near close enough to touch the treetops with my toes.

  I tried closing my eyes, but that just made the sensation of hanging helplessly in the air worse. The claws held me tight enough that I didn’t think I was going to fall out, but I was terrified that the bird might change its mind or just forget to hang on to me. How did the elf tell it what to do? Or what if he accidentally gave it the signal to let me go? I gritted my teeth and tried to keep myself together, but it was all I could do to keep from screaming. The way the damn thing had me in its claws, I couldn’t even grab onto its feet or legs.

  I fumbled around for something to grab onto, but all I could manage to do was sort of hook my elbows around a talon, as if that would do me any good at all. The sky was all but dark now, but the light of the two moons rising was enough to see how close the hawk was staying to the trees. Ahead, and not nearly far enough below for my liking, I could see the lights of the goblin fires not far from the pass we’d marched down just the day before. What I couldn’t see was the other bird, now that I wasn’t below it no more, and I hoped none of the breeds down there was much for stargazing.

  The elf didn’t show any sign of landing the bird, but instead passed right over the orc camp, giving me a depressing impression that a large number of orcs and goblins was below waiting to kill me and Shady. I started counting fires, thinking the Capitaine might like to see if they matched up with the pass count, but gave up after I hit fifty-something and lost track.

  I’m not a religious man most days, or nights for that matter, but I can tell you I was promising God I was going to live clean and pure and never touch another woman nor drop of spirit if only He could get me through the night without getting splattered on the rocks or eaten up by orcs. It’s one thing to be told to sneak into an enemy camp, but it’s another to see them in their thousands from right over their ugly heads. I didn’t see no way I was going to make it to the next bell without the man up high putting a heavy thumb on the scale in my favor.

  Then I saw the pigs on the north side of the camp. They was big black lumps looking a lot like a field of large rocks piled up next to each other, but not right next to each other, if you know what I mean. I couldn’t see any fences, but I figured the orcs must have put something up to corral them in there because they was lying in a rough sort of circle. There was four fires along what looked like the perimeter.

  The elf saw the boars too, because the bird banked left almost right away.

  This pen didn’t hold all the boars, maybe only half. It wasn’t any great mystery why they was put off well to the side of the orc camp. One hundred and fifty warboars, all crapping and pissing and farting away made the warhawk’s aroma seem like perfume. It was probably too much even for creatures that didn’t mind living in their own filth.

  My gut heaved before I knew it, and I launched what I figured was my last dinner down into that stinking hell’s brew. Fortunately, I managed to turn my head and miss wearing it, although I suppose I could probably put on more scent than a whorehouse uses in a week without anyone within bowshot of that pig corral noticing me.

  I thought the elf was going to have the bird put me down somewhere near this pen, but instead of descending, the hawk beat its wings and headed out farther into the darkness, away from both armies. When it finally did descend, I had to bite my lip to avoid crying out as the sensation of plunging earthward struck me right in my now-empty stomach. Rigid with fear, I pulled my legs up toward my chest, as if that would help me survive being driven into the ground like a star falling from the sky. At least it would be fast. I wouldn’t feel no more than the time Simon the Weasel got hisself hit by the catapult that turned him into blood soup and bone shards.

  Even in the dark, I could see the ground approa
ching. It was grass, not trees or rocks. I squeezed my eyes shut, tucked my head, folded my arms, and braced myself. But just about when I figured I’d hit, everything seemed to stop, and I felt as if I was suddenly being jerked upward again. I opened my eyes just in time to see the ground erupting right in my face, but I didn’t even have time to shout before the damned bird released me, and I slammed into the earth on my left side.

  My shoulder smacked my jaw so hard it felt like someone had hit me with a right cross. The air was driven from my lungs in one cow-like grunt, and then I was rolling over and over until I finally came to a stop, sprawled flat on my back, bruised, battered, and with the taste of blood in my mouth.

  “That was the goddamn plan?” I wanted to shout up at the elf, who had somehow vanished into the sky during my jongleur routine. Instead, I ran my tongue over my teeth to confirm that I wasn’t missing none that I shouldn’t, and I spit out the blood that was slowly oozing from my newly bitten lip. I shrugged, then wiggled my arms and legs to make sure nothing was broken. Nothing seemed to be, although I ached all over like the day after battle. I took a deep breath, then another, and reflected that the she-elf was right to have made me leave my blade behind. Even if it didn’t snap in two amidst all the tumbling, it might have stabbed me through the leg or the belly.

  Panic set in. Frantically, I patted my left side. But I quickly found my dagger still safely strapped in its scabbard. A wardog without a weapon is like a dog without teeth, and a man always feels braver for one, no matter how small. Still, the bloody elf could’ve just set me on the ground.

  “Are you just going to lie there, Man?”

  Startled out of my wits, I scrabbled at my side and managed to draw my knife as I rolled over and leaped to my feet, ready to kill.

  The she-elf chuckled softly. Her fair hair and pale face was all that I could see in the darkness.

  “I thought you’d just dropped me and flown off!”

  “Obviously not.” She pointed to my chest. “You have the instigators?”