Read Online Battledragon by Christopher Rowley - Free Book Online
Authors: Christopher Rowley
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breath back, he struggled to find words. Something impelled his tongue to truth, perhaps all that ale sloshing around inside him.
"Sorry, sir, they're irregulationary. Can't be used."
"What?"
"Cap badges will be one inch long, seven-sixteenths of an inch high, three-sixteenths thick, made of Cunfshon brass and polished to a high shine." Despite being drunk, Relkin rolled the oft heard syllables off his tongue like some religious chant. Manuel and Mono nodded in time.
Wiliger's face darkened.
"What do you mean?"
"It's Legion Regulation 243, sir," said Manuel quickly. "Cap Badges Will Be." He saw Wiliger's confusion. "Our former dragon leader used to recite the dress regulations to us at every parade, sir. I think we know all of them by heart. Cap badges are strictly prescribed for in size and material."
There was a long, pregnant silence while Wiliger went scarlet. They all kept their eyes on their plates. The rest of the meal was an agony of embarrassment, and they were all glad to escape at last and scurry back to the Dragon House.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The land of the Kraheen bore a well-earned reputation for cruelty and the rule of savage kings. Their neighbors avoided them, in part because of the legends concerning cannibalism and their dark terrible ways, but also because their land was isolated beyond the Ramparts of the Sun, in close proximity to the ancient forests known as the "Lands of Terror."
Wealthy Kraheen women poured fortunes in fat down the throats of tame pythons and fed them on slave children. High Priests carved totems from especially fattened, living men and women. Hung on hooks from the chins of the gods of Stone and Fire, these living emblems howled out their propitiation of the deities. Sometimes they lived for weeks this way. At every rising of the full moon, the priests bled human sacrifices and then bathed themselves in the juices.
The Master Heruta Skash Gzug had sent Kreegsbrok to end this world and replace it with another. He had been given five hundred men, the pick of the armies of Padmasa, with fifty troll and five thousand heavy imp. This force had been enough to shatter the army of the Kraheen nobility and scatter it to the winds. Kreegsbrok had taken the royal family prisoner. Through them, he had become the ruler of the land of the Kraheen. He promulgated enormous reforms, especially to the use of the land that was to be distributed among the peasants.
This was an enormously popular step. At once the people rallied behind the new regime. The orders went out for the arrest of all the old nobility.
When Kreegsbrok and his men had finished with the old nobility of the Kraheen, there was a mound of skulls ten feet high standing at the gates of the new fortress that was rising on the Island of the Bone.
The last holy men of the old gods had been made to swim for their lives with the bones of their high priests still smoldering in their mouths. The old ways were no longer needed, for the Prophet had come to life.
"He Who Must" strode the world once more, a legend from a previous millennium. From his fingertips danced blue fire that could heal the sick. From his eyes emanated a strange force that brought calm to the souls of the mad. He spoke with a voice of honey and brought balm to the back of the ancient people. The Prophet had the power in him and demonstrated it before the people every day.
And so they came to him, in vast throngs, pouring into the capital city from the hinterland. They returned speaking of the marvels they had seen, bearing among them the lame who could now walk and the blind who could now see.
And thus did Heruta Skash Gzug fashion a hand to carry his other great weapon, the were-sword, the destroyer of worlds, cast of metal in great forges built on the Island of the Bone.
Kreegsbrok had been summoned one night and flown on the back of a massive batrukh across the waters of the Inland Sea to the Island of the Bone. There within the new fortress he was received by
"Sorry, sir, they're irregulationary. Can't be used."
"What?"
"Cap badges will be one inch long, seven-sixteenths of an inch high, three-sixteenths thick, made of Cunfshon brass and polished to a high shine." Despite being drunk, Relkin rolled the oft heard syllables off his tongue like some religious chant. Manuel and Mono nodded in time.
Wiliger's face darkened.
"What do you mean?"
"It's Legion Regulation 243, sir," said Manuel quickly. "Cap Badges Will Be." He saw Wiliger's confusion. "Our former dragon leader used to recite the dress regulations to us at every parade, sir. I think we know all of them by heart. Cap badges are strictly prescribed for in size and material."
There was a long, pregnant silence while Wiliger went scarlet. They all kept their eyes on their plates. The rest of the meal was an agony of embarrassment, and they were all glad to escape at last and scurry back to the Dragon House.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The land of the Kraheen bore a well-earned reputation for cruelty and the rule of savage kings. Their neighbors avoided them, in part because of the legends concerning cannibalism and their dark terrible ways, but also because their land was isolated beyond the Ramparts of the Sun, in close proximity to the ancient forests known as the "Lands of Terror."
Wealthy Kraheen women poured fortunes in fat down the throats of tame pythons and fed them on slave children. High Priests carved totems from especially fattened, living men and women. Hung on hooks from the chins of the gods of Stone and Fire, these living emblems howled out their propitiation of the deities. Sometimes they lived for weeks this way. At every rising of the full moon, the priests bled human sacrifices and then bathed themselves in the juices.
The Master Heruta Skash Gzug had sent Kreegsbrok to end this world and replace it with another. He had been given five hundred men, the pick of the armies of Padmasa, with fifty troll and five thousand heavy imp. This force had been enough to shatter the army of the Kraheen nobility and scatter it to the winds. Kreegsbrok had taken the royal family prisoner. Through them, he had become the ruler of the land of the Kraheen. He promulgated enormous reforms, especially to the use of the land that was to be distributed among the peasants.
This was an enormously popular step. At once the people rallied behind the new regime. The orders went out for the arrest of all the old nobility.
When Kreegsbrok and his men had finished with the old nobility of the Kraheen, there was a mound of skulls ten feet high standing at the gates of the new fortress that was rising on the Island of the Bone.
The last holy men of the old gods had been made to swim for their lives with the bones of their high priests still smoldering in their mouths. The old ways were no longer needed, for the Prophet had come to life.
"He Who Must" strode the world once more, a legend from a previous millennium. From his fingertips danced blue fire that could heal the sick. From his eyes emanated a strange force that brought calm to the souls of the mad. He spoke with a voice of honey and brought balm to the back of the ancient people. The Prophet had the power in him and demonstrated it before the people every day.
And so they came to him, in vast throngs, pouring into the capital city from the hinterland. They returned speaking of the marvels they had seen, bearing among them the lame who could now walk and the blind who could now see.
And thus did Heruta Skash Gzug fashion a hand to carry his other great weapon, the were-sword, the destroyer of worlds, cast of metal in great forges built on the Island of the Bone.
Kreegsbrok had been summoned one night and flown on the back of a massive batrukh across the waters of the Inland Sea to the Island of the Bone. There within the new fortress he was received by
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