Dragonback 05 Dragon and Judge (31 page)

Slaves, then. Apparently, the universe wasn't going to let Alison
avoid them as she'd hoped.

And if she couldn't avoid them, there was nothing to be gained by
letting them find her skulking under bushes like a criminal. It was
even possible she could persuade them she was just another slave who'd
strayed out of her usual territory.

She caught a glimpse of movement straight ahead. Taking a deep
breath, she stood up.

A pair of Compfrins came around the trees, bundles of sticks in
their hands. They caught sight of Alison and stopped short. "Hello,"
Alison said. "I seem to be lost."

The aliens exchanged looks. Then, one of them gave a soft whistle.

Abruptly the other footsteps Alison had heard fell silent. Then,
they started up again, more quickly this time, and growing nearer. A
Parprin appeared through the trees to Alison's right, followed by a
pair of Jantris to her left, then an Eytra beside the two Compfrins. "I
seem to be lost," Alison tried again.

One of the Compfrins stepped forward, coming to within three feet
of Alison before he stopped. He paused there, his eyes laboriously
tracing every line of her face. Then, he seemed to straighten up. "You
are she," he declared.

"I am she what?" Alison asked carefully.

"You are the human Alison Kayna," he said. "The friend of Jack
Morgan, who came to us as Jack McCoy." Before Alison could decide
whether to confirm or deny it, the Compfrin took her arm. "Come," he
said softly, steering her toward her left. "We have a hiding place
prepared for you."

Alison eyed him suspiciously. Still, if it was a trap it was too
late to run now. "Thank you," she said.

The hut they led her to was small, run-down, and very much in the
middle of nowhere. Definitely one of Jack's isolation huts, Alison
decided. "Wait here," the Compfrin said as he opened the door for her.

"For how long?" Alison asked, stepping in and looking around. The
hut included a small cot, enough extra space to turn around in, and not
much more. Even her slave quarters back at the main house had been
better than this.

"The Penitent will wish to see you," the Compfrin said. "He will
come to you when he can."

"The Penitent?" Alison echoed, frowning.

"Our leader," the Compfrin said. "Wait, and do not fear. Someone
will bring food and water for you soon."

"Just make sure he's not caught," Alison warned. "I'd rather go
without than have him lead the Brummgas here."

"Do not fear," the Compfrin said again. He closed the door, and
the footsteps again faded away.

"There's no place like home, eh?" Alison commented, sitting down
on the bed. "What did you think of them?"

"I don't know," Taneem said. She peered cautiously out of Alison's
shirt, then rather gingerly slid out into the other half of the cot.
"They seem remarkably organized for people Draycos said would not even
take freedom when it was offered."

"I was thinking the same thing," Alison said. "Which means this
could be a trap."

"Should we not then escape?" Taneem asked.

"In theory, we can always do that," Alison reminded her. "After
all, they still don't know about you." Carefully, she lay down on her
side on the cot. The mattress was hard and stiff, but after spending
the night sliding across rough ceramic, it felt as gloriously luxurious
as her bed back home. "Besides, in theory, we also don't have anywhere
better to go just now," she added.

"So we rest?"

"We rest," Alison confirmed, closing her eyes. "Maybe we eat and
drink, too, if their courier makes it through."

She propped one eye open. "Mostly,
you
stay out of sight,"
she said.

"Until I'm needed?"

Alison closed both eyes again. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll let
you know when that is."

They spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping. At least Alison
did—she wasn't sure what exactly Taneem did with the idle time. As long
as the K'da was quiet, she didn't really care.

The promised food and water arrived about midafternoon, delivered
by the Parprin who'd been in the group that had escorted Alison to the
hut. The food wasn't very good, but it was filling and Alison was
ravenous. She and Taneem split the meal, and Alison went back to sleep.

It was dark outside by the time she awoke. "Any news?" she asked,
stretching her arms carefully. Her back felt a hundred percent better,
but the muscles and skin were still tender.

"No one has come close," Taneem reported. She was curled up on the
floor beside a small crack in the wall, periodically flicking her
tongue out to taste the air.

"I wonder if this Penitent got caught," Alison said, getting
stiffly off the bed and taking a sip of the water they'd saved. "Or
whether he just got cold feet."

"Jack used that expression once," Taneem said thoughtfully. "I'm
still not sure—" She broke off, her tongue flicking twice through the
crack. "They are coming," she hissed. "Many of them. No Brummgas."

"Great—a committee," Alison growled, glancing around. Aside from
the single door, there was no way out of the hut.

At least, not any way the slaves could possibly anticipate. "Time
to play backstop," she said, holding out her hand. "Hop on."

A second later Taneem was back on her skin. Five seconds after
that, Alison had worked her fingers through another crack in the rear
of the hut and Taneem had leaped off into the darkness. Taking a few
deep breaths to calm herself, Alison turned to the door and waited.

A minute later she heard soft footsteps approaching. There was a
quiet knock, and she pushed the door open.

It was the Compfrin who'd first identified her as Jack Morgan's
friend. Arrayed behind him was the committee Taneem had smelled: two
Parprins, three Jantris, three more Eytras, and four other Compfrins.
All of them were armed, either with kitchen implements or else with
tree-branch clubs.

One of the Eytras was standing a little in front of the rest. It
was, Alison knew, the position a leader would normally take. "Good
evening," she said, nodding to all of them and then focusing her
attention on the Eytra. "Do I have the honor of addressing the
Penitent?"

A ripple of surprise ran through the group. The Eytra himself gave
no visible reaction. "I am," he said. "Stronlo is my name. Yours is
Alison Kayna?"

"Yes," Alison confirmed. "Why the name Penitent?"

A flicker of pain crossed Stronlo's face. "I was there when Jack
Morgan offered us freedom. I failed to grasp that offer, and have spent
two months repenting my foolishness."

He straightened up. "But now I have been given a second chance,"
he said firmly. "Now that you have come to free us."

Alison felt her throat go dry. Shoofteelee, back at the house, had
had the same attitude. And the same assumptions. "That's not exactly
the case," she said carefully. "I came on a mission of my own." She had
a quick flash of inspiration—"At the request of Jack Morgan and the
black dragon."

"She lies," one of the Jantris murmured. "She doesn't know the
dragon. She's a spy."

"Be calm," Stronlo advised him coolly. "If she is a spy, she will
not leave here alive. Tell me what this mission was that the black
dragon sent you to perform."

"I'm not permitted to talk about that," Alison said, thinking
fast. If Uncle Virge had been properly persuasive, a Malison Ring
strike force should be here sometime in the next two or three days.
"But I may still be able to get some help for you. Tell me what exactly
you have in mind."

"Prove first that you're a friend of Jack Morgan," the suspicious
Jantri countered.

This was getting sticky. "How do you suggest I do that?" Alison
asked.

"Tell us something about him," Stronlo said.

Alison lifted her hands helplessly. "Like what? Most of what I
know about him you won't know and can't confirm. Anything you
do
know, the Brummgas back at the big house probably know, too. That means
nothing I can say will really prove anything."

"Then repeat for us the poem he spoke to the human Noy," the
Jantri said.

"You must be joking," Alison protested. "That dragon has hundreds
of poems swimming around his brain. I have no idea which one he hauled
out for Noy."

"Then perhaps you do not know him after all," the Jantri growled.

"The poem begins this way," the Compfrin beside her offered
helpfully.

"The night was calm, the battle near,

The enemy was set with fear.

Their eyes had hearkened,

The sky had darkened

Memories we held so dear."

"No," came a quiet voice from behind them.

The entire group spun around, their weapons snapping reflexively
up into ready positions.

And there they froze as a muffled gasp rippled through their ranks.

Taneem was crouched above them on a large tree limb, her silver
eyes shining like tiny moons in the darkness. "That was incorrect," she
said into the taut silence. "
This
is the correct poem:

"The night was calm, the battle near,

The enemy was wet with fear.

Their ears were hearkened;

They had darkened

Memories we held so dear."

She twitched her tail, her eyes shifting to the Jantri. "I am not
the black dragon," she said. "But perhaps I will do."

"You will, indeed," Stronlo said, and Alison could hear a
trembling of excitement flowing into his voice. He turned back to
Alison. "The dragons have returned. The time is right."

"Right for what?" Alison asked.

"For hope," Stronlo said. "For freedom." He glanced back at
Taneem. "For rebellion."

Alison felt a chill run up her back. "Rebellion?" she repeated
carefully.

"It has all been planned," Stronlo said. "We are many, and we are
ready."

"And the Chookoock family has all the weapons," Alison countered.

Stronlo gave a wide Eytran smile. "We have you and the dragon."

Alison hissed between her teeth. Two months ago, Draycos had
single-handedly cleared out an entire layered Brummgan defense across
these grounds. Clearly, Stronlo and his fellow rebels were hoping for a
repeat of that victory.

But Draycos was a trained poet-warrior. Taneem was a child in an
adult's body.

Even worse, the element of surprise had been lost. The Brummgas
had seen Draycos in action once. They would know how to deal with those
tactics this time.

But Alison could see that none of that mattered. Stronlo and his
people were so hungry for the freedom they'd missed out on once that
they would brush aside any risk to avoid missing it again. Even if it
meant their deaths.

"All right," she said with a sigh. "But not yet. There are people
coming who can help us."

"More friends of the dragons?" one of the Eytras asked hopefully.

"Not exactly," Alison hedged. "But they'll be good allies just the
same. They should be here in two to three days."

"That is a long time to keep her hidden," one of the Parprins said
uncertainly.

"We can do it," Stronlo said firmly. "We
will
do it."

"Great," Alison said. "Then we'll stay here, and hidden, and
you'll get everything ready from your end."

"How will we know when these allies are here?" one of the
Compfrins asked.

"Don't worry," Alison said grimly. "If it works out the way I
expect, everyone for ten miles will know they're here."

They talked together for another half hour, mostly about the slave
compound and the Brummgas' patrol routine. By the time they were
finished, Alison had a pretty good idea of what she was up against.

After that, the slaves made their farewells and slipped away into
the night, leaving a fresh supply of food and water behind.

"A rebellion," Alison commented grimly as she and Taneem went back
into the hut. "Sticks and kitchen knives against lasers, slapsticks,
and machine guns. What have we gotten ourselves into this time?"

"You don't approve," Taneem asked, her voice oddly cool.

"I don't approve of people getting themselves killed for nothing,
no," Alison countered, sitting down on the bed. "Because that's what's
going to happen."

"You said the Malison Ring would help them."

Alison snorted. "I said that to try to stall Stronlo off for a
couple of days," she said. "The strike force isn't going to care if a
bunch of slaves get themselves slaughtered."

"The Malison Ring approves of slavery?" Taneem asked, her tail
lashing.

"The Malison Ring has its own agenda, and that doesn't include
playing white knight to every downtrodden group of people they run
across," Alison said. "That's more Jack's and Draycos's style."

The tail lashed a little harder. "But not yours?"

Alison gazed into those silver eyes, her stomach tightening. What
was she supposed to say? "We can't fix the whole universe, Taneem," she
said. "No one can. Right now, we're in way over our heads. We're going
to be lucky if we get out of here with our skins intact."

"I understand," Taneem said. "Like the Malison Ring, we have our
own agenda."

Alison winced at the K'da's tone. "If it makes you feel any
better, remember that part of that agenda includes protecting Draycos
and his people."

Taneem's eyes glittered. "Draycos and
my
people," she
corrected quietly.

"Right," Alison said, searching for a way to get off this topic.
"Speaking of which, how in space did you know that poem of Draycos's?
It wasn't something the Phookas sang together, was it?"

"Of course not," Taneem said, an odd mixture of pity and revulsion
in her voice. "They weren't . . . that is,
we
weren't able to
create such songs. Draycos taught it to me afterward."

"And happened to mention that it was the one he'd sung to Noy?"

Taneem turned her head away. "I asked him to sing that particular
one to me," she said. "He had said it was a song of encouragement, and
I was . . ." She trailed off.