his destruction was in full view.
Fish Eye stood closer and swung the rod in long whistling passes that made the hair stand out on Porteous Glaves’s neck. Porteous started to tremble, he could not stand this. He was about to break and run, losing all respect forever.
He became aware that the crowd had quietened behind him. He looked back.
A huge form had shouldered through the throng and stood very close. Someone whistled.
He glanced up. A dragonboy was perched on a great dragon’s shoulders, the boy’s face was expressionless. Then, at last, as if in a dream Glaves saw the dragon’s face, saw those immense eyes focused on him. His mouth was dry, the Teetol rod was whistling, he wanted to run, to hide, to go anywhere in the world but this terrible place, but the dragon eyes were on him and he froze in place unable to move, unable to even blink.
Fish Eye gave a little grunt, his rod flashed, and Glaves felt a thunderbolt strike across his upper chest.
For a moment he was numb, then his chest seemed to explode. He was conscious only of his feet leaving the ground. Helplessly he lay in the snow, struggling to breathe.
The watching Teetol, however, now gave up whistles of praise, for the fat Argonathi had taken the blow well, without flinching or blinking.
Fish Eye was disappointed, he had clearly hoped for a more humiliating finish to the bout. For if Glaves had flinched and then been knocked to the ground, then Fish Eye, the victor, would have been allowed to strike him once more, on any part of the anatomy he could reach.
Loudly he protested that he was certain the fat useless ass from Argonath had flinched. But the Teetol had been watching most carefully as was the custom, and they knew that Glaves had not even looked at Fish Eye as the blow was struck and flinched not an iota. In these things the Teetol were an honest people. Now they whistled their refusal.
Fish Eye swung his rod, shrieking through the air, but the Teetol whistled back their disapproval even louder.
“That’s enough,” said General Paxion. The men might enjoy the sight of Glaves being humbled, but to go further would be to humiliate the legion, and they would not stand for that.
Fish Eye was about to strike Glaves anyway when a great shadow fell over the scene, and the broketail dragon moved around the fallen commander and picked up the rod he’d dropped. The dragon examined the rod, then examined Fish Eye, and then swung the rod experimentally in the air.
He swung it again, and it blurred back and forth.
The Teetol all stepped back with a sigh and then a laugh. Fish Eye scowled briefly at being denied his prey, but then decided to make the best of it and pantomimed running back in great fear of the dragon.
Everyone roared at the joke, and while they were still roaring, Relkin and Bazil carried Glaves back to his tent and set him on his bed.
Glaves feigned unconsciousness and lolled back with his eyes closed and his mouth open breathing loudly. His chest was on fire. He’d probably broken half his ribs!
By the wicked old gods of Veronath, he vowed to someday get his hands around the neck of Ruwat, who’d suggested this mad idea in the first place.
He felt the dragonboy press a finger to his carotid artery and take his pulse. His face was wiped with a cool cloth and then his shirt was opened.
Glaves kept very still. The damned boy wanted to rob him! He would discover his mistake in just a moment. Glaves felt surreptitiously for his knife.
But Relkin merely wanted to check the commander for injuries. Carefully he felt for broken ribs.
There was a huge red welt right across the pectoral region. The Commander was going to have a painful bruise for a long time, but Relkin’s sensitive fingers could detect no broken bones.
Glaves remained still, puzzled somewhat. The scurvy dragonboy must be too stupid to even notice the purse of gold he kept on a leather belt inside his shirt. But no, he felt the boy find the belt and touch the
Fish Eye stood closer and swung the rod in long whistling passes that made the hair stand out on Porteous Glaves’s neck. Porteous started to tremble, he could not stand this. He was about to break and run, losing all respect forever.
He became aware that the crowd had quietened behind him. He looked back.
A huge form had shouldered through the throng and stood very close. Someone whistled.
He glanced up. A dragonboy was perched on a great dragon’s shoulders, the boy’s face was expressionless. Then, at last, as if in a dream Glaves saw the dragon’s face, saw those immense eyes focused on him. His mouth was dry, the Teetol rod was whistling, he wanted to run, to hide, to go anywhere in the world but this terrible place, but the dragon eyes were on him and he froze in place unable to move, unable to even blink.
Fish Eye gave a little grunt, his rod flashed, and Glaves felt a thunderbolt strike across his upper chest.
For a moment he was numb, then his chest seemed to explode. He was conscious only of his feet leaving the ground. Helplessly he lay in the snow, struggling to breathe.
The watching Teetol, however, now gave up whistles of praise, for the fat Argonathi had taken the blow well, without flinching or blinking.
Fish Eye was disappointed, he had clearly hoped for a more humiliating finish to the bout. For if Glaves had flinched and then been knocked to the ground, then Fish Eye, the victor, would have been allowed to strike him once more, on any part of the anatomy he could reach.
Loudly he protested that he was certain the fat useless ass from Argonath had flinched. But the Teetol had been watching most carefully as was the custom, and they knew that Glaves had not even looked at Fish Eye as the blow was struck and flinched not an iota. In these things the Teetol were an honest people. Now they whistled their refusal.
Fish Eye swung his rod, shrieking through the air, but the Teetol whistled back their disapproval even louder.
“That’s enough,” said General Paxion. The men might enjoy the sight of Glaves being humbled, but to go further would be to humiliate the legion, and they would not stand for that.
Fish Eye was about to strike Glaves anyway when a great shadow fell over the scene, and the broketail dragon moved around the fallen commander and picked up the rod he’d dropped. The dragon examined the rod, then examined Fish Eye, and then swung the rod experimentally in the air.
He swung it again, and it blurred back and forth.
The Teetol all stepped back with a sigh and then a laugh. Fish Eye scowled briefly at being denied his prey, but then decided to make the best of it and pantomimed running back in great fear of the dragon.
Everyone roared at the joke, and while they were still roaring, Relkin and Bazil carried Glaves back to his tent and set him on his bed.
Glaves feigned unconsciousness and lolled back with his eyes closed and his mouth open breathing loudly. His chest was on fire. He’d probably broken half his ribs!
By the wicked old gods of Veronath, he vowed to someday get his hands around the neck of Ruwat, who’d suggested this mad idea in the first place.
He felt the dragonboy press a finger to his carotid artery and take his pulse. His face was wiped with a cool cloth and then his shirt was opened.
Glaves kept very still. The damned boy wanted to rob him! He would discover his mistake in just a moment. Glaves felt surreptitiously for his knife.
But Relkin merely wanted to check the commander for injuries. Carefully he felt for broken ribs.
There was a huge red welt right across the pectoral region. The Commander was going to have a painful bruise for a long time, but Relkin’s sensitive fingers could detect no broken bones.
Glaves remained still, puzzled somewhat. The scurvy dragonboy must be too stupid to even notice the purse of gold he kept on a leather belt inside his shirt. But no, he felt the boy find the belt and touch the
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