“Oh, don’t set the dragon on us!” D’LoodD pleaded, the other Wreckers adding their own desperate cries as well.
Smiling kindly, Katteo raised her arms in a gesture asking for quiet. With a tone of understanding and compassion, she said, “There, there, don’t be fearful. I won’t set the dragon on you—and, in fact, I’ll let you go free with gold in your pocket, if you will do a small favor for us.”
“Oh, yea, name your price!” D’LoodD cried out. “We’ll do anything for you, if you’ll spare our humble lives!”
“We want to double-deal Milky Joe—which should make you happy—we want to steal the slaves being offered to us from under his very nose—especially the first-quality ones taken from the Daring Dream. Ha! You see, we’re just like you, we don’t trust Milky Joe and don’t see any reason to treat him fair. So, what we want you to do is to go on with us to Mis’tashe and, when we get there, swear that Milky Joe was eaten by this here dragon on my command, and that you are sure I’ll feed you and all of the Mis’tashe crew to my dragons also, if they don’t do as I say. And, for this small favor—in addition to saving your lives—we will give each of you a solid gold coin.”
The Wreckers, dumbfounded at their good fortune, immediately agreed with the plan. “Oh, thank you, thank you, mighty She-Hellion, Dragon-Conjurer!” D’LoodD exclaimed. “You can count on our grateful service!”
The End for Sabre Tusk
Mis’tashe was a large and strongly built trading station, remote from all the lanes of normal commerce and frequented only by those trading beyond the law. But in a land where the “tidy little trades” were active, the station provided service to many a slaver or shadowy merchant. Built of sturdy gray stone, Mis’tashe had four wings, completely enclosing an open central square where slaves or trallés were held and displayed for sale. Windowless, except for double-grated openings in the single enormous iron door that served as the main entrance, Mis’tashe had an appropriately dismal and forbidding appearance, consistent with its work.
When Red Whale, Katteo, and their Wrecker escorts arrived at the station, the Wreckers, true to their promise, put on the performance of their lives.
“BEASTS OF THE TRADE! HEAR US WRECKERS! COME OUT AND HEAR US! ALL YOU BEASTS OF MIS’TASHE WHO WANT TO LIVE LONGER THAN AN HOUR! BEASTS OF THE TRADE! HEAR US WRECKERS! COME OUT AND HEAR US! WE WARN YOU OF POWERS THAT EVEN WE FEAR!”
This electrifying announcement brought beasts pouring out of Mis’tashe. The Wreckers were well-known to all the beasts at the station. Wreckers were tough, fearless, and strong—if they were fearful and had warnings to give, every beast wanted to hear about it! As the Mis’tashe beasts gathered, the Wreckers continued their frenzied yelling.
RUN! CLEAR OUT! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THE CRAZY BEASTS RIDING THE DRAGON ARE POWERFUL WIZARDS AND CONJURERS!” yelled one.
“THE DRAGON’S UNDER THEIR SPELL! THEY TRICKED MILKY JOE AND THE DRAGON ATE HIM! SNAP-CRUNCH-SLURP—AND HE WAS A GONER—CLEAN AS A WHISTLE, NOT A SCRAP LEFT—NOT EVER A GREASY SPOT ON THE TRAIL—GONE—GONE—GONE!” moaned another, his eyes rolling in terror.
Another wailing Wrecker, drooling from his mouth, and shaking at the knees, yelled, “THE DRAGON-CONJURER CAN MAKE THEM FLY—AND SHE CAN MAKE AS MANY AS SHE NEEDS TO EAT US ALL! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! SHE’LL KILL US IF WE DON’T LEAVE THE SLAVES AND GET OUT OF HERE!”
Another fell to the earth in a trembling mass of flesh, blubbering and jabbering incoherently. “DAA-DA-DU—DRAGOOSE—DRAGOOSOON—DARGOTON—CHOMPED JOWEE—AIEEE!” The poor beast began spinning on the ground like as if possessed by banshees. AIEEEEEEEE! DRAAGOOOOOOSOONE! ME GONEY!”
The effect of this dramatic performance was electric. Seeing the astonishing transformation of the burly, normally steel-nerved, Wreckers into a lot of blubbering, insane with terror beasts, drained every ounce of courage and reason out of the Mis’tashe guards and workers.
White-faced, the Mis’tashe beasts were frozen in terror for an instant. Then another most amazing thing happened, which sent them running pell-mell across the hills. One of the Wreckers, as part of his frenzied performance, cried out, “AND THE WORST OF IT IS THAT YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT OTHER STRANGE BEASTS SHE CAN CALL IN ON US! SHE CONTROLS THE VERY LEGIONS OF HELL—WHAT OTHER TERRORS CAN SHE CALL UPON US?”
At that very moment, all eyes were suddenly attracted to a curiously humorous, yet, for the Wreckers, terrifying, sight: A troop of nine beasts marching a stark, raving mad Rummer Boar before them at the point of a cutlass.
“By the powers of hell!” the Rummer yelled “Take me back to the King Lizard, you scalawags! Return me to my savior and protector! The lizard armies will keep the birds from pooping on my hat! Don’t take me away from my King, my Lord!”