Although he was content to rest there in her arms for the moment, Dennis realized he would have to set Linnora straight about one thing quite soon. She had altogether too much confidence in him. No doubt about it. She frequently had the habit of assuming he knew what he was up to when all he was doing was improvising to survive!
The forests and plains of Coylia stretched out below them, a sea of ambers, greens, and blues. Soft white clouds arrayed in drifting columns as far as the eye could see.
Dennis ran his hand along the laminar smooth side of the craft they flew…handiwork he had created, helped by his comrades, in only two days’ time! He marveled at the wonderful adaptations that had converted a rickety little hand-carved cart into a sleek flying machine.
True, the thing would not normally have been possible, even here. It had taken a combination of his own inventiveness and the rare practice resonance—derived from the melding of man, L’Toff, and Krenegee. But still…
Pix hopped up onto his lap. Apparently it had decided to forgive him. The creature settled in for a long purr. Dennis stroked its soft fur. He looked up at Linnora, remembering her last remarks, and smiled.
“No, love. My world is no more wonderful than this one, where nature’s so kind. It’s usually been a hard life there. And if it’s become anything but brutal and futile in the past few generations, it’s thanks to the sweat and hard work of millions. Given the chance, any man or woman of Earth would choose to live here instead.”
He looked out over the plains and realized that he had made a surprising decision. He would remain here on Tatir.
Oh, he might return to Earth temporarily. He owed the land of his birth any help he could give it from what he had learned here. But Coylia would be his home. Here was where Linnora was, for one thing. And his friends…
“Arth!” He sat up suddenly. The plane rocked.
“Oh, my, yes!” Linnora cried. “We must go back!”
Dennis nodded as he gently turned the plane around.
And then there was the war, too. That madness had to be dealt with before he thought any more about settling down in this land and living happily forever after.
From his hiding place under a fallen tree, Arth heard the cries of the soldiers. For a long time they stood out on the plateau while he listened to their amazed exclamations. They were clearly more than a little surprised by what they had seen. He heard superstitious mutterings and the Old Tongue word “dragon” repeated over and over.
The minutes passed. Then there came more excited shouting. Arth heard a terrifying roar, followed by sounds of panicked flight. The sequence was repeated several times. Each time the roar seemed louder and the frightened yells sounded farther away.
Finally, he crawled out of his hole and cautiously emerged to look around.
He saw Kremer’s rangers running for their ropes, trying desperately to escape the plateau as if the devil himself were after them.
Even he flinched at first as the large, roaring form swooped down toward him from the clouds. Then he saw two small shapes wave at him from the cockpit of the plane.
Arth could understand the soldiers’ flight. His own heartbeat sped as he watched the thing, and he knew what it was!
Arth understood that it would be dangerous to try another landing on the sloping, sandy embankment. The chance wasn’t worth taking while there was still a lost war to be won. He was only grateful Dennis and Linnora had taken the time to drive the rangers away before moving on to more important matters.
Arth waved farewell to his friends, and watched as the flying machine accelerated away to the south. He shaded his eyes and followed it as it headed toward the line of battle, far down the line of mountains.
Finally, when it had become a mere dot on the horizon, he went over to the pile of supplies Linnora had emptied onto the gravel bank. There he also found several backpacks, dropped in panic by the departing soldiers.
He sighed as he picked through the detritus. There was enough here to live off of for quite some time.
I’ll give them a couple days to win th’ war and come to get me, he thought. If they don’t come back by then, maybe I’ll try to build one of them flyin things myself!
He hummed softly as he fixed himself a meal and imagined soaring in the sky, no slave to the winds.
8
The battle was going badly. About noon, Gath ordered every spare implement cast overboard in preparation for a desperate bid at escape.
It did little good. The next flight of gliders to attack sent a hail of darts tearing through the canopy. Fewer arrows than ever rose to meet the black shapes. The great gas bag began to sag as heated air escaped.
Another of the bowmen was killed in the onslaught. The body had to be cast overboard without ceremony. There was no time to do otherwise.
Below, the men guarding the tethers were hard pressed. All knew that it was only a matter of time until the forces holding the south rim fell back under pressure from the air, leaving their flank unguarded.
Kremer had obviously seen the opportunity his salient up the Ruddik offered. He had drawn reinforcements away from the northern front, where Demsen’s Royal Scouts had been putting up stiff resistance. Gath had seen several contingents of mercenaries arrive, along with companies of Kremer’s gray-clad northmen, only minutes before the most recent glider sortie. The final assault on the salient would not be long delayed. And once they broke through here, the heartland of the L’Toff would lie open.
Their balloon was leaking steadily now. Gath couldn’t even estimate how long it would stay aloft, practice notwithstanding.
Then, as if all that weren’t enough, one of his men grabbed his shoulder and pointed, asking, “What’s that?”
Gath squinted. At first he thought it was another damned glider. In the bright afternoon light something new seemed to have entered the sky battle…a large winged thing, with a span greater than the biggest of Kremer’s aerodynes.
This thing growled, and it flew as no glider he had ever seen. There was something powerful about the way it prowled across the sky.
Gath’s men muttered fearfully. If Kremer had added another element to the fray...
But no! As they watched, the growling thing rose high, then dove into the updraft at the canyon mouth to attack the slowly rising column of gliders there!
Gath stared in amazement. The intruder swooped about the lumbering wings, disturbing the smooth air they depended upon. The turbulence of its passage sent them out of control. One after another, the black shapes shook, tumbled, and fell!
Most of the glidermen ultimately regained control of their bucking craft, but not in time to reach another updraft. The skilled pilots desperately sought flat areas and had to settle for crash landings on the rough slopes.
Angry airmen stumped or hobbled out of their wrecked flying machines to stare up at the buzzing thing that had brought them down like a hand swatting down flies.
A few of Kremer’s gliders managed to stay in the updraft. They escaped on the first pass of the growling monster, struggled for altitude, and then dove on the intruder.
But the hawk-winged shape easily maneuvered out of reach of the deadly darts. Then it turned nimbly and pursued its pursuers, hounding them out over the arid plain. Each time the inevitable result was another glider wrecked or stranded on the tumbled prairie.
In a matter of minutes, the sky was clear! The L’Toff stared, unable to believe what had happened. Then a cheer rose from the defenders’ lines. The attackers—even the gray-clad professionals—drew back in superstition and awe as the droning thing came around to fly high over the canyon.