Odyssey

CHAPTER 5

"Something is breaking into the city!" screamed a voice in the ambassador's ear. Laquatus struggled from the depths of his trance, his senses assaulted by the troubled noises of the crowd. The merman shook his head, still confused. On the sands below, Turg bellowed and fell into a feeding frenzy, losing any sign of civilized restraint. Again a cry filled the air. The rage and despair in its tone gave the ambassador's spirit a little burst of joy. Something was in great pain, and Laquatus could always smile at the pain of others. The erstwhile town crier moved on and shouts continued down the line of boxes. "See what the noise is about," the ambassador said to a guard standing nearby. The mercenary nodded and left at a run. The merman stood, shaking the stiffness from his muscles. The amphibian continued to eat voraciously and Laquatus saw the difficulty in reining Turg in. Better to let the amphibian feed. Usually, the ambassador lost himself in the frog's sensations when the opportunity presented itself. However, the tumult outside continued as crowds drifted out of the pits.

"See about getting the arena gates open," he directed a Cabal servant who came into the box, looking for a way to please the ambassador. "Tell the Master of the Games that while I blame him for nothing, I want my jack allowed to leave the field." Laquatus paused for a second.

"Right now," he said emphatically as the servant stood there stupidly. The servant left at a run, his sandals loudly drumming on the stone floor.

"I wonder if the fools think I will forgive the insults offered me?" Laquatus asked himself pensively. The assault on his dignity burned, lying like a bed of temporarily banked coals, ready to flare up at any moment. Whoever drove the ass out onto the field would pay a hideous price. As would the person that gave the order, their households, and any with close connections. Laquatus idly wondered if the city should be razed to assuage his honor?

Perhaps not, after all he had plans for the Cabal and the pits. But the image of burning buildings and corpses seemed very attractive. Turg's savage appetite bled into his consciousness. Perhaps a minute passed before new events broke his reverie. Messengers returned with news, the one sent to the Master of the Games speaking first.

"The official is gone, and all the Cabal servants are called away," he explained, bowing in humiliation. "There is no one with authority to order the gates opened on the arena floor." Laquatus smiled slightly and walked to the refreshments laid to the side. A variety of seafood imported at great expense lay cooling in shaved ice. Laquatus reached for metal tongs used to crack claws. He grabbed the man's hand and grasped a finger quickly. The muscles beneath his aristocratic facade showed themselves as he broke the finger like a twig. The servant went white as the ambassador stepped back to the table. Laquatus picked up a lobster claw and some bread to feed the echo of his jack's hunger.

"I sent you to get Turg out," he said merrily, cracking the chitin to get to the meat. The servant turned even paler at the sound. "I have confidence that you will get my frog free before I run out of fingers." The man swayed, and Laqua-tus's personal retainer gave him a wide berth, waiting for him to go down.

"Now, now, now," Laquatus clucked, lightly rapping the man's cheek with the metal tongs. "You don't want me breaking more bones to wake you up."

The servant shook his head rapidly, bowing and backing away as he stumbled to the door. The ambassador smiled and motioned to the retainer. The man smiled as nastily as his master, his bald head flushed with excitement at the cruelty.

"Follow along, and if he collapses make sure he receives medical attention." At the disappointed look Laquatus chuckled and waved the man away. How could he punish someone for failure if he died from shock? These landsmen were such unthinking brutes. They had no sense of style. He invited the other messenger forward with a wave of his hand.

"And what is the commotion outside?" the merman asked. "A riot? A revolution? Come, come," he said, as the Cabal servant gathered his composure. "Use your tongue, or I'll have it out."

"A monstrous beast has broken through the city wall and is making its way through the town," gushed the man. The ambassador briefly considered using the crushing tongs again, but business before pleasure.

"Why the excitement?" Laquatus asked. "The arena teems with monsters every day. Surely one more should not provoke such disarray."

"The beast, my lord," the servant said quickly, "is huge. It overtops buildings and can be clearly seen from outside the arena."

The ambassador nodded, intrigued enough that he decided to see the monster for himself.

The runner screwed up his will enough to speak once more before making for the exit. "It also resembles the beast your champion just killed." Then his nerve broke, and he left at a run.

The guards made as if to block him, but the ambassador stopped them with a barely perceptible motion. The messenger was of no importance though his words were intriguing. He waved to a skybox, calling it down. The pilot promptly complied, and the merman soon stepped into the small floating craft with a single guard. He looked to the rest of his household. "Go back to the embassy," Laquatus said and dismissed them from his mind.

The skybox was one of the smaller ones but any affording such luxury were rich and important. The seats were of the finest leather. Though it had no buffet, there was a collection of rare liquors stowed against the side. The mage directing the craft was clad in black regalia while the obvious patron of the box wore an understated tunic and trousers of deep purple and black.

"I am so glad I could give aid," the owner said, moving to the side to grant the merman more room. "I am Toustos, an importer of animals for the games."

"I thank you for your courtesy," Laquatus smiled back, wondering if he should send the two over the side. "I am the ambassador from the Mer Empire. In the excitement there seems to have been a mistake. My jack, Turg, has been abandoned on the field of victory." He shook his head sadly. "If you could direct this box to pick him up, I would be very appreciative." The importer nodded and, with a look, directed the box down.

"There is a chance," he said, "that the protective field over the fighting area may be quiescent. If not, your fighter is trapped until the guards let him out." The ambassador nodded in agreement but thought that Turg could escape if he must. The box slowed suddenly as it neared the field.

"Warning spell," said the importer unnecessarily. The merman could detect the roused energies waiting to destroy anything that trespassed their vigilant watch. The amphibian below tore more flesh from the dragonette, and some of the six limbs lay amputated. The frog had eaten itself nearly immobile, and Laquatus cursed the indulgence of appetite.

"There's no way we can get through the stand defenses, Your Excellency. Is there some other service I might provide?"

Laquatus curbed his temper. "There," he said, pointing to the open air above. "Lift us up that I might see this beast that draws the rabble so far from their posts." The box began to rise toward the opening. The curving galleries and conduits of power loomed over the field, and the conveyance drifted further to the side. The rate of ascent slowed as they neared the limits of the arena. Finally they peeked over the wall and saw the madness outside.

The merman enhanced his senses, his suddenly sharp eyes and ears bringing the scene into crystal focus.

"Krosan dragon," whispered the importer at the ambassador's side.

Laquatus slapped the patron, his burning gaze demanding absolute silence.

The dragon was Turg's opponent grown one hundredfold. The six-legged beast looked down on the buildings it passed. The city guardsmen ran screaming before it, breaking down doors to hide inside. Its head ducked, and the monster gulped down a flagging sergeant as a snack. The other guardsmen put on another burst of speed. They slowed immediately, exhausted from their crazed run from the city walls. Laquatus could see soldiers converging from other parts of the city, but he doubted that many would arrive in time. The dragon's huge tail lashed behind it. A steady rain of debris from tumbling walls filled the street as the beast came on.

The area in front of the arena was bedlam as carriages and palanquins disbursed. Patrons rushed to waiting bearers, the servants trembling with fright and frustration. It said something for the brutality of the city elite that transport waited. But the outskirts of the crowd were fraying away; some chased by their screaming masters. A clump of officials rallied the Cabal arena guards and handlers into formation. It seemed a forlorn hope against the approaching juggernaut.

Laquatus felt satisfaction at their impending doom. A terrible death by monster might salve away the wound to his dignity. He thought of Turg below, a slumbering fool in someone's scheme, and he hoped the entire Cabal would be slowly eaten alive.

A dementia caster below opened reality to her madness, and a stream of undead stumbled up the street. They formed a parade and advanced laughing, their clothes trailing rags showing hints of past color. Rusty bells rattled, and a chorus of tinny horns sounded as more approached the dragon. Unholy mirth dragged sodden laughter from their rotting chests.

One bellowing voice overrode the noise below, and the ambassador looked down to see Lieutenant Kirtar directing the action. The Order representative oversaw the retreat of those patrons still trapped back into the arena.

"If necessary escape through the rear exits," Laquatus heard through his enhanced hearing. The officer waved pit fighters to join the city guards as noncombatants retreated inside. Down the avenue, the corpses' merriment reached its peak as the parade met the beast.

The street opened into a square, and the zombies surrounded the dragon, throwing themselves at it. The monster's tail began to sweep in rapid strikes, each movement leaving a trailing bundle of rotting flesh. Some zombies seemed to explode as they thudded into thick building walls. Others disappeared inside weak facades, though the sound of collapsing walls suggested they were not spared destruction. Those undead that missed buildings entirely skidded along the cobblestones, shedding flesh and bones until the remains looked as tattered and strewn as the moldering grave-clothes. Some avoided the tail and reached the beast.

The giant body thrashed from side to side as a wave of guardsmen followed the undead and reached the great reptile. Spears leading, they charged in support of the merry corpses. They appeared to battle their way onto the monster's hide, and Laquatus for a second increased his sight a magnitude before it blurred back to simple enhancement.

The green fur that seemed to cover the reptile was in fact a blanket of vines. Wrapping the huge beast in innumerable strands, the greenery protected it by a thick covering of long thorns. The figures Laquatus saw clinging to the animal's side were nailed there as solidly as any crucified slave. The zombies tried to crawl to the dragon's head and left a trail of their few remaining threads, then what remained of their skin. Still the summoned corpses laughed and trembled in crazed mirth.

The lieutenant and his supporters advanced, power creeping along their limbs and armoring them against thorns. Axes and swords glowed as they were enhanced, golden flames running along the metal. Spears and javelins arced high in the air, then pierced the dragon's hide. Enchanted metal cut deep, and the monster paused.

Its mouth gaping wide, it poured out a green mist, the emerald haze flowing down the street. The ambassador could still see, but the scene was blurred. Only the frog's ground-hugging nature and his high vantage point allowed him to view all the combatants. For those on the street, everything was lost in the attack. The head of the dragon swung skyward, and the ambassador realized that the monster could still see. It came forward as the lieutenant hurled forces into the air.

Burly warriors threw small raypen, their spindly legs trailing as they spread their deformed arms wide. The magic flowed, and their arms doubled in length, feathers spurting from their skin as sorcery gave them the wings that their ancestors gave up millennia before. Four bird warriors climbed higher and began shouting reports to the lieutenant below. The ambassador swore as the Order forces moved forward. The destruction of his host's city would have pleased Laquatus greatly.

Shouts of surprise sounded from the fog below. Like the tropical jungles of the south, ivy and kudzu spread over the buildings and streets. Wild growth exploded out of window boxes. Plants and vines unfamiliar to Laquatus curled around windows and doorways as thick grasses and brush tore through cobblestones. The street swiftly became impassable.

Weapons once ready to battle a dragon tried to cut a path. The fallen zombies vanished as plants tore apart what remained of their bodies. The Krosan dragon forced its way through the street, its tons of armored flesh finding the plants only slightly less navigable than the fog that preceded them. Its tongue searched the air for traces of the now hidden troops.

The raypen called out reports, and the Lieutenant responded from below. The bird warriors banked and swooped toward the dragon. Long darts fell as they pulled up, the projectiles slicing into the animal's head. The creature bled profusely, one of the attacks tearing open the scales near the eye. Weeping red tears, the giant blew forth a geyser of green mist. It swept through the sky, its concentrated green a verdant club that swatted at the flyers, hiding them from sight.

The raypen climbed out of obscurity, wildly pumping for clear air. Then they screamed, their limbs flexing spasti-cally. Their cries choked off, and Laquatus could see them coughing up gouts of green as they went into seizures. Their magic failed, and they plummeted, diving into the tall grass covering the street and vanishing from view.

The ambassador felt the lieutenant drawing more power as the Order warriors reacted to the deaths of the flyers. The figures blazed gold as they tried to protect against infestation, but soldiers collapsed as the green fought against them, the invisible seeds of destruction sown in the first moments of battle.

The barbarian Kamahl advanced from the arena, his sword a long whip of flame that burned a path through the brush. Bursts of searing red light emanated from his body, wilting the plants nearby. Laquatus hoped for his death as the jack cut a channel through the fog. The sweeps of his weapon burned others free as he reached Kirtar's position and continued past, ignoring the bird warrior's shouted orders. He trailed supporters in his race up the street.

The dragon's head dipped to devour the impudent barbarian, but the sword's long flame charred a line of flesh over its nose. Fresh gouts of the mystical growth hormone washed over the street, but a spreading cloud of flame burned out a circle of safety. The beast tried to maneuver, but fiery knives arced up and exploded on the dragon's side as it turned away. The fires swept away stretches of the thorny vines protecting the animal's hide. Cabal armsmen who had run to the roofs of surrounding buildings found their courage, and a few arrows and bolts sought the gaps in green armor. The huge tail brought down more structures, whipping in painful frenzy as rubble cascaded into the verdant growth. Clouds of dust set the combatants choking as they disappeared from view.

There was a fresh bout of screams, and Laquatus watched the dragon's claws hooking a hapless fighter into the cloud. Unable to see into the green haze, he summoned a wind. It took precious seconds, but the mass of dust blew over the rooftops, completely blinding those archers and spearmen with the courage to be exposed. The merman ignored them as the cloud began to clear the street He saw the dragon whip its head, catapulting a screaming soldier through the air to intercept the barbarian as he came into view. Laquatus clapped with delight.

"Good show," he called, ignoring the looks of the importer. The barbarian and his humanoid projectile sailed into a faceless building, which shot out more dust as internal walls collapsed. The roof pitched sharply, and refugees of the street battle screamed as they slid off and fell to the timbers and stone blocks below.

The lieutenant ordered a retreat, driving the fighters and the few remaining observers at street level down other avenues.

"We'll hamstring it as it tears into the arena," he shouted. Laquatus started as he saw the beast coming closer. The skybox began to drop, cutting off the view of the action.

"Take us back up!" he ordered the importer, furious at the interruption. It was the merchant's servant who answered him.

"The energy to the transports is being redirected to the defensive shields," the pilot explained, directing the craft to a cradle against the opposite wall. "They must be planning to drive the animal into the decay field to kill it." The ambassador could feel the deadly spells below growing more powerful.

"Why would they think the beast headed here?" he asked. "Surely it will chase the cowards running away rather than attack an empty building."

This time it was the importer who answered him.

"It comes to answer the cry of distant kin," Toustos explained. The merchant was nervous, and the merman could tell the human tried to control his own fear by showing his superior knowledge. "It will break its way in and kill whoever it finds when it sees and smells the corpse of the dragonette."

The ambassador looked to the sands below. Turg lay as if dead, stuffed to bursting on wild ass and the monster's caller. There was no way to raise him from his slumber, though Laquatus sent command after command to the amphibian's mind. His enhanced hearing could hear the slamming of bolts as every gate closed in an attempt to keep the beast inside after it broke through.

"I am sure they will kill it before it can devour your champion or reach us," the importer said nervously. The ambassador grasped him by the throat and with a single motion threw him to the sands below. Maggot-ridden meat struck the floor, and the merman's guard did not even wait for the order, hurling the skybox attendant over the side of the conveyance. The mercenary retired back, trying not to catch his master's attention.

"I will trust these incompetent animals to protect me?" Laquatus said to himself. "These dry, ungainly fools, unworthy of all responsibility!" he screamed as the guard tried to make himself smaller. "I spit on these air-breathing tube worms!"

The ambassador sent his call forth again, compelling absolute, immediate compliance. But his demand did not split open the skull of the comatose pit frog. Instead the orders passed through the rock beneath the arena, resonating in the caverns below. Laquatus felt the surge of power as his waiting armies prepared to attack.