"Glaah!" my mentor exclaimed, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand. "I may be violently sick!"
"The beast's just showing his appreciation for your saving his master," Chumly laughed.
"That's right," I agreed. "If you hadn't..."
"Forget it," Aahz waved. "No refugee from a wine-making festival's going to do his dance on my apprentice while I'm around."
For once, I knew what he was talking about. " ‘Refugee from a wine-making festival'-that's pretty good, Aahz," I grinned.
"No, it wasn't," my mentor snarled. "In fact, so far this afternoon, nothing's been good. Why are we standing around talking?"
"Because the first play's over," Chumly supplied. "Also, I might add, the first score."
We all looked down field toward our goal. The field was littered with bodies, fortunately theirs, not ours. Whatever had happened, we had given a good accounting of ourselves. Stretcher bearers and trainers were tending to the fallen and wounded with well practiced efficiency. The players still on their feet, both on the field and on the sidelines, were dancing around hugging each other and holding their index fingers aloft in what I supposed was some sort of religious gesture to the gods. Badaxe was sagging weakly against one of our four goalposts while Gus fanned him with his wings.
"The score," the troll continued casually, "is nothing to nothing to one ... against us. Not the best of starts, what?"
For one instant I thought we had scored. Then I remembered that in this game, points are scored against a team. Therefore "nothing to nothing to one" meant we were behind by a point.
"Don't worry," Aahz snarled. "We'll get the point back, with interest! If they want to play rough, so can we. Right?"
"Quite right," Chumly grinned.
"Ummm ..." I supplied hesitantly.
"So let's fire up!" my mentor continued. "Chumly, get Gus and Badaxe up here for a strategy session. Kid, get back on that dragon-and this time try to stay up there, huh?"
I started to obey, then turned back to him. "Ummm ....ahz?" "Yeah, kid?"
"I didn't say it too well a minute ago, but thanks for saving me."
"I said forget it."
"No, I won't," I insisted defiantly. "You could have been killed bailing me out, and I just wanted you to know that I'll pay you back someday. I may not be very brave where I'm concerned, but I owe you my life on top of everything else and it's yours anytime you need it."
"Wait a minute, kid," my mentor corrected. "Any risks I take are mine, understand? That includes the ones I take pulling your tail out of the fire once in a while. Don't mess up my style by making me responsible for two lives."
"But, Aahz..."
"If I'm in trouble and you're clear, you skedaddle. Got it? Especially in this game. In fact, here..."
He fumbled in his belt pouch and produced a familiar object.
"Here's the D-Hopper. It's set to get you home.
You keep it and use it if you have to. If you see a chance to grab Tanda and get out of here, take it! Don't worry about me."
"But..."
"That's an order, apprentice. If you want to argue it, wait until we're back in Klah. In the meantime, just do it! Either you agree or I'll send you home right now."
Our eyes locked for long moments, but I gave ground first.
"All right, Aahz," I sighed. "But we're going to have this out once we get home."
"Fine," he grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. "For now though, get on that stupid dragon of yours and try to keep him pointed in the right direction. We've got some points to score!"
Chapter Twenty-Five:
"If you can't win fair, just win!
-U. S. GRANT
WE needed to score some points, and to do that, we needed the ball.
That thought was foremost in my mind as we lined up again. One way or another, we were going to get that ball.
When the whistle sounded, I was ready for it. Reaching out with my mind, I brought the ball winging to my grasp. Before our team could form up around me, however, the whistle sounded again and the Jahk in the striped tunic came trotting toward us waving his arms.
"Now what?" Aahz growled. Then aloud, he called, "What's wrong, Ref?"
"There's been a protest," the referee informed him. "Your opponents say you're using magik."
"So what?" my mentor countered. "There's no rule against it."
"Well, not officially," the ref admitted, "but it's been a gentleman's agreement for some time."
"We're not gentlemen," Aahz grinned. "So get out of our way and let us play."
"But if you can use magik, so can your opponents," the striped tunic insisted.
"Let ‘em," Aahz snarled. "Start the game."
A flash of inspiration came to me. "Wait a minute, Aahz," I called. "Sir, we're willing to allow the use of magik against us if, and only if, the magicians do it from the field."
"What?" the ref blinked.
"You heard him," Aahz crowed. "If your magicians join the team and take their lumps like our magician does, then they're free to use whatever skills and abilities they bring onto the field with them. Otherwise they can sit in the bleachers with the spectators and keep their magik out of it."
"That seems fair," the Jahk nodded thoughtfully. "I'll so inform the other teams."
"I say," Chumly commented as the referee trotted off. "That was a spot of clear thinking." "Tactically superb," Badaxe nodded. "That's the kind of generalship that beat Big Julie's army," Gus supplied proudly.
I waved modestly, but inside I was heady from the praise.
"Let's save the congratulations until after the game, shall we?" Aahz suggested icily.
It was an annoyingly accurate observation. There was still a long battle between us and the end of the game, and the other teams were already lining up to pit their best against our clumsy efforts. In grim silence, we settled down to go to work.
I won't attempt to chronicle the afternoon play by play. Much of it I'm trying to forget, though sometimes I still bolt upright out of a sound sleep sweating at the memory. The Jahks were tough and they knew their business. The only thing holding them at bay was the sheer strength and ferocity of my teammates and some inspired magik by yours truly.
However, a few incidents occurred prior to the game's climax which would be criminal neglect to omit from my account.
Gleep came of age that afternoon. I don't know what normally matures dragons, but for my pet adulthood arrived with the first play of the afternoon. Gone was the playfulness which led to my early unseating. Somewhere in that puzzling brain of his, Gleep thought things over and arrived at the conclusion that we had some serious business on our hands.
I, of course, didn't know this. When the ball ended up in my hands, I was counting on my other teammates for protection. Unfortunately, our opponents had anticipated this and planned accordingly. Three players each swarmed over Aahz and Chumly, soaking up incredible punishment to keep them from coming to my support. The two Riders converged on me.
I saw them coming and panicked. I mean, the cat was faster than us and the bug seemed invulnerable. Frantically, I looked around for some avenue of escape. I needn't have worried.
Instead of bolting, Gleep stood his ground, his head lowered menacingly. As the cat readied itself for a pounce, my pet loosed a jet of fire full in its face, singeing its whiskers and setting it back on its haunches.
I was so astonished I forgot to watch the bug moving up on our flank. Gleep didn't. His tail lashed out to intercept the armored menace. There was a sound like a great church bell gonging, and the bug halted its forward progress and began wandering aimlessly in circles.