Dragon (Vlad Taltos) by Steven Brust

Author:Steven Brust [Brust, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2010-04-01T06:00:00+00:00

Thirty-four hours earlier I had been on picket duty, assigned to make sure no one could get in the camp unseen; now I was on the other side, trying to do exactly that. This side felt more natural to me, and my new sympathy with the opposition didn’t get in my way.

Loiosh flew overhead, keeping an eye out for exactly where they were stationed, as I moved slowly toward where I had been told the enemy was camped. My feet made no sounds, my grey cloak blended into the night, and in my left hand was a small rod that would alert me well before I crossed the line of any sort of detection spell.

“Anything, Loiosh?” I asked, just because the silence was hard on my nerves.

“Not yet, Boss.”

“Maybe they’ve packed up and left.”

“I’ll believe it if you will.”

Then, “Found ’em, Boss. Three of them, straight ahead of you.”

“I’ll bear to the left, then.”

“It’s clear that way.”

I kept moving, not too fast, avoiding any abrupt motions. Now I could see the embers of campfires, which not only gave me a target but made it harder for me to be spotted from within the camp. I remembered from last night that I’d only rarely looked back toward the camp; my attention had been focused outward. Still, I made certain not to stand between any of the fires and the picket spot Loiosh had identified.

There should have been an interior line of pickets as well, and there probably was, but I didn’t see them and they didn’t see me. Once I was in the camp it was easier; the fires had mostly burned down, and nearly everyone was asleep. I walked with confidence, as if I belonged there, and the few guards who were wandering around pretty much stared through me.

“Do you see their banner?”

“Forty yards, this way.”

I went that way. Light glowed from the overlarge tent to which Loiosh directed me, the flickering light of lamps. As I got closer I heard low voices—officers, no doubt, discussing plans for the morrow, when our “advance guard” would be “tested” by their “outpost.”

There was a guard posted right in front of the tent, a very inconvenient place. But that was all right.

“Okay, Loiosh. Take it away.”

“I’m there, Boss.”

He launched himself from my shoulder and swooped on the guard, missing his head by about three feet. The guard swore and took a step back. Loiosh swooped again. The guard drew his sword and took an aimless swipe into the air. I drew a knife from my belt and found the flagpole.

It took about a second to cut the rope, and the banner slid down silently. Another second, and I was holding the banner in my hands. I slipped into the darkness behind a nearby tent and said, “Okay, Loiosh. I’ve got it. One down.”

“I’ll be there in a while, Boss.”

“Loiosh …”

“Oh, come on, Boss. I’m having fun.”

“Loiosh.”

“All right, I’m coming.”

Someone from inside the tent called, “What’s that ruckus?” but I didn’t hang around to hear the answer.

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