Dragonworld by Byron Preiss & Michael Reaves

Author:Byron Preiss & Michael Reaves [Preiss, Byron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy - General, Fiction, Fantasy, General, Juvenile Fiction, Science Fiction, Animals, Literary, Epic, Mythical
ISBN: 9780553010770
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1979-09-14T04:00:00+00:00

“I am needed here!” said the young man. He did a short leap away from Tenniel. “Your soldiers are as sad as orphans. My work provides a moment’s diversion.”

Tenniel was growing angry. It was not the first time he had been defied during the course of this war, but he intended it to be the last. “We need dancing even less than we need this fog!” he said.

“We need this fog,” the Dancer retorted. “It hides us from the Simbalese.”

“Do not tell me about the Simbalese! I am an Elder of Borgen Town!”

The Dancer grinned. “A man as young as you is an Elder?” he teased. “Tra-la!” Spinning away, he broke into a dash for the bottom of the hill.

“Catch him!” Tenniel shouted. Several men tried to grab the running figure, but the Dancer eluded them easily and disappeared into the fog.

Tenniel grumbled angrily and hurried back toward the top of the hill. As he reached it, he gazed out over the Simbalese forest. In the fog, it looked like a strange green sea. He shuddered. He hoped Jondalrun would not order them to enter there for the night.

Tenniel headed down quickly toward his contingent, but as he did, he glimpsed a rippling in the fog over the trees. There was something in the sky, something large, moving slowly toward the valley. There was a moment of recognition, and then terror.

Tenniel turned toward his men and shouted, “Take cover! A windship approaches!”

* * *

Six hundred men watched from the mist below them. Thalen had sent up flags signaling the other two craft to circle around the hills. He planned to fly his one-man ship directly over the Fandorans. Looking down, he could see a ragged band of farmers and fishermen hiding on the edge of the hill. They are frightened, he thought. Perhaps Hawkwind’s plan would work.

* * *

Jondalrun stared nervously at the windships, their colorful sails jutting brightly through the fog. “We were smart to order the men back into the hills,” he said. “If they are unable to see us, we will be safe from attack.”

Tamark shook his head. “They will attempt to drive us out into the open, Jondalrun. Then they will attack.”

“That is my thought, too,” said Lagow. “We are easy targets.”

Jondalrun glared at him for a moment; then a slight, almost rueful smile creased his rumpled face. “We will not strike the first blow,” he said. “Nor will we rush back to the shore in defeat.” He looked at Dayon, ordering a few stragglers behind the cover of a granite ridge. “We have come this far, and now will wait them out.”

The windships continued their approach, separating to surround the Fandorans. They seemed serenely indifferent, as though those who flew them were superior to the ground-locked humans hidden in the hills. Onward they came, their prows scudding through the mist like boats parting the ocean’s foam.

Mutterings and shouts of fear broke out among the Fandorans. “Stay where you are!” Pennel shouted, and the other Elders echoed his order.

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