Dragonback 04 Dragon and Herdsman (17 page)

She leaned back to look at the small section of stars visible
through the trees. "Too bad we haven't run into any decent-sized
clearings. With the transport gone, you could whistle up the
Essenay
and we could be out of here before they knew what was happening."

"Wouldn't work," Jack said. "Uncle Virge will have the comm off,
along with every other system he can do without. He won't turn it back
on until he's well inside the forest and ready to start listening. Any
idea how much farther we've got to go?"

"I'd guess we did eight miles today, as the gooney bird flies,"
Alison said. "Maybe a little more. Barring any serious trouble, four to
five more days ought to do it."

Four to five days, with the Malison Ring on their tails the whole
way. But there wasn't much they could do about that. "Let's make it
four," he said. "You want me to take the first watch?"

"I think we can safely skip that for tonight," Alison said. "Like
you said, the mercs aren't likely to come looking for more trouble
right away. And both of us can use as much rest as we can get."

"Sounds good to me," Jack said. Suddenly, his eyelids were
drooping with fatigue. It had indeed been a full and rich day.
"Pleasant dreams."

Besides, even if he and Alison both slept through the night, the
camp wouldn't be left unguarded. Not if Jack knew Draycos.

There was no trouble that night, from the mercenaries or anything
else. Alison got everyone up at dawn, then sat around in obvious
irritation for another hour and a half while Hren and the other
Erassvas insisted on picking themselves a breakfast of berries and
watching the Phookas perform their ritual morning dance. After that,
the group finally got under way.

The day turned out to be a much calmer version of the previous
one. Once the morning mists burned off, the air began to warm up,
though it never got above chilly in the perpetual twilight beneath the
trees. Still, the cool made for good travel weather. Moreover, the
night's sleep had worked wonders with the Erassvas' mood, and though
the aliens walked mostly in silence, they no longer seemed angry or
resentful.

As before, Alison and the green Phooka led the way. Jack brought
up the rear, moving back and forth to either side as he watched for
Phooka strays. Draycos, for his part, traveled in a wide-ranging circle
around the rest of them, alert for signs of enemy activity.

But for this day, at least, the Malison Ring seemed uninterested
in starting any fresh trouble. The result was a quiet, uneventful,
almost pleasant journey.

And it gave Jack the chance to make some unexpected discoveries.

All through his childhood, he'd tried numerous times to talk Uncle
Virgil into letting him have a pet. But the other had always turned him
down, insisting he didn't want any animals underfoot on his ship. As a
result, Jack's only contact with pets had been with those of other
people, usually during the course of some scam.

Most of those contacts had been very brief, with Jack unable to
spare much time or attention from the job at hand. He'd thus come away
with the vague impression that, aside from superficial things like
color of fur or feathers, all animals were pretty much the same.

Now, to his mild surprise, he discovered that nothing could be
further from the truth. Though yesterday's travels had hinted at it, it
was only during this second day that he began to realize just how
different the Phookas were from one another.

They had markedly different personalities, for one thing. Some
were very obedient, even docile, while others were stubbornly
independent. Some seemed to plod along with little interest in their
surroundings, while others could be distracted by the slightest hint of
something new or interesting.

The curious ones, he found, were relatively easy to bring back to
the main group. All he had to do was let them get their fill of the
latest plant or bug, at which point they could be led back to the fold.
The fiercely independent ones, the ones who wandered off simply because
they felt like it, required a firmer hand or a more diplomatic approach
if Jack didn't want to get a warning snap of tooth-filled jaws for his
trouble.

Fortunately, none of them actually bit him. With a little trial
and error, he eventually worked out ways to handle even the most
stubborn ones.

Jack had grown up among the thieves and con artists and killers of
the Orion Arm's criminal underworld. His adventures with Draycos over
the past three and a half months had added soldiers and slaves to that
list of acquaintances. The laid-back Erassvas and their Phooka
companions made for a welcome change of pace.

"I could get used to this," he commented to Alison during one of
their brief rest breaks. "Maybe when this is all over I'll buy a flock
or herd of something and go into business for myself."

She snorted. "You'd last two weeks," she said. "After that, it
would drive you crazy. You're not the herdsman type."

"You might be surprised," Jack said, annoyed in spite of himself
that she would dismiss the idea so quickly.

"Oh, I'm surprised all the time," she countered calmly. "But not
about something like this. Trust me."

The day continued uneventfully, and as the forest's twilight began
to darken Alison found a slightly protected hollow for them to camp in
for the night. Again Jack volunteered to check the perimeter; and as he
did so, he related his earlier conversation with Alison to Draycos.

"She's right," Draycos said when he'd finished. "There are people
who have the skill and patience to spend their lives taking care of
animals. But you are not one of them."

"Yeah, but I'm good at it," Jack insisted. "You've seen me. I
could do this."

The K'da lifted his head slightly from Jack's shoulder. "I do not
understand your attitude," he said. "Are you saying you
would
want this sort of job?"

Jack hesitated. "Well . . . no, probably not," he had to admit. "I
just don't like everyone taking for granted that I
couldn't
do
it."

"Of course you
could
handle the job, at least for a short
time," Draycos said. "Indeed, as you just pointed out, you
are
doing it. The average intelligent being can perform an amazingly wide
range of activities when it is necessary. What I meant—and I presume
what Alison meant, as well—was that a herdsman's job is not what you
are best suited for."

"No, I'm best suited to be a thief and con man," Jack said,
grimacing. "That's what Uncle Virgil always told me, anyway."

"Uncle Virgil had his own reasons for saying such things," Draycos
said. "You have many talents, Jack. When the time comes, you will find
the job that best fits you."

Jack sighed. "Maybe."

"There is no 'maybe' about it," Draycos said firmly. "Why do you
doubt?"

"Because I'm already fourteen years old and I still haven't
figured it out," Jack said. "I'll bet
you
knew you were a poet
long before that."

"There were some indications, yes," Draycos conceded. "Even before
I could compose poems of my own, I very much loved the poetry of
others."

"See, that's the thing," Jack said. "I like poetry, too,
especially stuff like yours that actually rhymes. But I still couldn't
write a poem to save my life."

"Have you ever tried?"

"Once, back when I was ten," Jack said. "It was pathetic. Nothing
like yours or the songs my mother used to sing to me."

Draycos lifted his head from Jack's shoulder. "Your mother used to
write songs?"

"I don't know whether she wrote them or just sang them," Jack
said. "And I can't sing, either."

"I would like to hear one of them," Draycos said. "Do you remember
any?"

Jack pursed his lips. He hadn't counted on having to give a
recital. "There's one I remember pretty well," he said. "I'm not a
hundred percent sure of the tune, but here are the words:

"We stand before; we stand behind;

We seek the
drue
with heart and mind.

From sun to sun the dross refined,

Lest any soul be cast adrift.

"We are the few who stand between

The darkness and the noontime sheen.

Our eyes and vision clear and keen:

To find the
drue
, we seek and sift.

"We toil alone, we bear the cost,

To soothe all those in turmoil tossed,

And give back hope, where hope was lost:

Our lives, for them, shall be our gift."

Jack stopped, his eyes unexpectedly filling with tears. "There
were a lot of other songs," he said. "That's the only one I really
remember."

"It's beautiful," Draycos said quietly. "Tell me, what is
drue
?"

"I asked Uncle Virgil once, and he said it was a valuable
mineral," Jack said. "I've never been able to find it in any
dictionary, though. It must have been the local slang name for
something."

"Yes, I remember you telling me your parents had been miners,"
Draycos said. "Odd, though. The tone of that song seemed more noble and
dignified than I would expect from miners. It is certainly unlike
anything I have heard from K'da and Shontine miners."

"Maybe it's from one of the nonhuman races," Jack said. "There are
a couple out there who get lofty and dignified about pretty much
everything
.
No sense of humor at all."

"Perhaps," Draycos said. "At any rate, thank you for sharing it
with me. I will ponder its meaning. Perhaps I will even try to
translate it into my language."

"Whatever you want," Jack said. "Me, I think I'll just have a
ration bar and get some sleep."

"Of course," Draycos said. His head rose briefly from Jack's
shoulder, and then with a surge of weight he leaped out of the boy's
shirt. "While you do, I will make a perimeter check."

"Okay," Jack said, fastening his shirt all the way up. It wouldn't
do for Alison to notice that his full-body dragon tattoo had suddenly
disappeared. "Watch yourself."

"I will." Silently, Draycos moved off into the growing gloom.

With a sigh, Jack headed back to where Alison had settled the
Erassvas and Phookas. Bringing up that old poem had stirred up feelings
of pain and loss and loneliness that he'd thought he'd buried long ago.

But at least he'd accomplished the goal he'd set for himself
tonight. He'd given Draycos something to think about besides whether or
not he was doing an adequate job of protecting his host. There was
enough danger and trouble out here without the dragon having to deal
with those kinds of doubts.

It had been easy. But then, distracting people with words or
thoughts or ideas was what Jack had always been best at.

It was, after all, what being a con man was all about.

Frost's men again made no trouble during the night, and after the
usual morning ritual they were off.

Once again Jack found himself settling easily into his role as
herdsman. By now he could almost anticipate how each of the various
Phookas would behave, and several times that morning was able to head
off one of the strays almost before he got going.

It was working in the other direction, too. Not only were the
Phookas becoming accustomed to his presence, but they also seemed to be
learning to recognize his voice. He found himself talking to them as
the troop traveled, and not just to give them orders or warnings. While
it was clear they didn't really understand his words, they did seem to
pick up on his tone of voice and respond accordingly.

It brought to mind one of the sayings Uncle Virgil had often
quoted to him:
My sheep hear my voice, and they follow me
.

What the saying actually meant Jack didn't really know. Uncle
Virgil had used it to illustrate that if he and Jack could con the
leader of some group, the rest of his people would usually follow
blindly along with him.

Still, somehow it seemed to apply here as well. Perhaps even more
accurately.

They continued on, making their way steadily toward the distant
river. If Alison was right, they would be at or even past the halfway
point by nightfall. If the
Essenay
had survived, they might
pull this off yet.

It was just after noon when the whole thing suddenly fell apart.

"There," Alison said, pointing down a low ridge toward a wide
patch of yellow-orange plants. "See all that orange stuff?"

"I see it," Jack said. "And?"

"And I think we'd better give it a wide berth," Alison said. "The
last time we passed plants that color they were surrounded by some very
large and very nasty-looking insects."

Jack pursed his lips. He couldn't remember even seeing any such
plants before, let alone any insects around them. But then, he'd
probably been chasing down a Phooka at the time. "Did you ask Hren
about them?"

"He thinks they're pretty," she said. "About the insects, he has
no clue. I get the feeling his expertise ends about a quarter mile in
from the edge of the forest. But
I
sure didn't like the look of
the bugs."

"Then let's go with that," Jack agreed, casually opening the front
of his shirt a little. Beneath his clothing, he felt Draycos shift
around to get a better look. "You want to veer east, or west?"

"East, I think," she said. "The terrain looks a little easier that
direction."

"Fine by me," Jack said. Up to now Alison had proved herself a
competent leader, and he saw no reason to start questioning her
instincts. "We'll get Greenie—"

And then, from behind them came a terrified scream.

"Hren!" Jack shouted, spinning around and fumbling for his rangier.

"Out of the way," Alison snapped, elbowing him in the ribs as she
darted past, her Corvine already in her hand. She disappeared around a
stand of tall reeds as another scream sliced through the air. Cursing
under his breath, Jack dashed after her.