Dragon and Herdsman

"Perhaps," Draycos conceded reluctantly. "Odd. The Valahgua have always been very protective of their technology. But you're right—the Malison Ring certainly did have Death weapons."

"Which we'd better hope are a long way from here," Jack said as that thought suddenly struck him. "They could just sweep it across the forest and be done with it."

"It does not work that way," Draycos said. "Even in the vacuum of space the Death is a fairly short-range weapon. On a planet's surface, its range is much less."

"How much less?"

"Considerably," Draycos said. "In a forest like this, with life all around, no more than two to three feet."

"Thank heaven for small favors," Jack said.

"Yes," Draycos said. "Were there any problems while I was gone?"

Jack shrugged. "Alison's mad at me for keeping secrets, and there's something out here that likes to rip off tree bark eight feet off the ground. Aside from that, not much."

"'Yes, I saw similar claw marks up ahead," Draycos said. "But they appeared to be several days old. Perhaps the creature has moved on."

"I hope so," Jack said. "Because if he hasn't, we're probably going to lose a Phooka or two down the rabbit hole."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that with the Erassvas together in the center this way, the Phookas have a bad habit of ranging away from the main group," Jack told him. "Far enough out, in fact, that they—blast." He pointed to the left, where a pale burgundy K'da was walking briskly away. "Come on. Let me show you how my day's been going."

The maverick K'da had worked his way around a stand of bushes by the time Jack reached him. Completely out of sight of the main group, digging industriously at a small insect mound, he would probably never have noticed if he'd been left behind. "Come on," Jack said, getting a grip on his crest and tugging on it. "Come on, big fella."

Reluctantly, the K'da allowed himself to be pulled away from his snack. Jack eased him around the bushes and started working his way back toward the edge of the group. "And it hasn't stopped, either," he continued to Draycos. "No matter what the Malison Ring has in mind, once it gets dark we absolutely have to quit for the day. If we don't, we'll probably lose half of them by morning."

"Perhaps I can help," Draycos offered. "I can patrol the outer edge of the group and watch for stragglers."

"Kind of like a sheepdog?"

"Not precisely the way I would have phrased it," Draycos said stiffly. "But essentially correct."

"What if Alison sees you?"

"What if she does?" Draycos countered. "What would one more K'da be among so many others?"

"I don't know," Jack said doubtfully. "She's pretty sharp, and there aren't any other gold ones. But you're right, I can't keep them all together myself. Let's give it a shot."

Draycos bounded from Jack's collar onto the ground. "You return this one to the herd and then cross over to the right flank," he instructed. "I will stay on this flank, and also keep watch to the rear."

"Where you'll be handy if the Malison Ring makes another move?"

"Not if," Draycos corrected him grimly. "When."

CHAPTER 11

His offer to watch the Phookas, Draycos quickly discovered, was easier to make than to fulfill.

For starters, the creatures were every bit as irresponsible and simple minded as Jack had warned. With the Erassvas mostly out of their sight, it took nothing more than an interesting log or bush or rock to lure many of them off the proper path. No sooner had Draycos gotten one back on-course than someone else would wander away.

It was a constant job just keeping track of them all. From the sounds of rapid footsteps he could hear on the other side of the traveling formation, he could tell that Jack wasn't having any easier a time of it.

What was far worse than the physical activity, though, was the constant pain of seeing his people reduced to animals.

If that was indeed what had happened to them. Because there was another, far worse possibility.

The possibility that this was in fact the natural state of the K'da. That it was only through their long relationship with the Shontine that Draycos's people had been lifted to the level of civilized beings.

It was a terrifying thought. If it was true, it would mean that the legends about their early relationship with the long-lost Dhghem were false. It would mean that stories of how the kidnapped K'da had planned and executed an escape from the Cark slavers were completely made up.

It would mean their entire history was a lie.

To his surprise and shame, he found that he couldn't face such a possibility. He, Draycos, poet-warrior of the K'da, had finally found something he was frightened to face.

So instead, he threw himself into his work, focusing his full attention on keeping his half of the herd in line. Perhaps later, when things were quiet, he would be able to take the time to think about who and what he and his people truly were.