Hsrandtuss stopped halfway up the hillside and leaned wearily on his staff. Glancing behind him, he saw that his six wives and twenty warriors were not having nearly as difficult a time with the climb as he was. Looking up the other direction he saw the massive fortress at the top of the hill. It was covered with wooden scaffolding for renovation and hundreds of small square wooden houses surrounded it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to his first wife Sszaxxanna. She pointed off to the right.
Hsrandtuss, his wives, and his warriors were all members of the cold-blooded reptilian native race of the continent of Birmisia. The humans called them lizzies. Ranging in color from light olive to deep forest green, they gave the appearance of an alligator crossed with an iguana, if either had been able to walk around on their hind legs. Thick tails followed behind them, the tips a few inches off the ground.
“That is the road of supplicants, my king,” she said.
He nodded and started off in that direction, leading his small column along.
As they neared the road, they could see that literally thousands of people were upon it, making their way to the fortress and to the god who lived within. They were not all walking though. About one mile from the great gate, there was an arch over the road. Upon reaching the arch, travelers dropped down onto their bellies, crawling the rest of the way, dragging their tales behind them. Hsrandtuss stopped at the archway. He was torn. He needed to go on, but it was unseemly for a king to crawl.
“Hsrandtuss,” called a voice, just as he had decided that he had better get down on his belly.
He looked up to see an ornately painted male, wearing a bright red cape. He started when he noticed that the cape was made not of feathers, but of the smooth cloth woven by the soft-skins to the north. He nodded at the male.
“You need not enter through this gate. Bring your people and follow me.”
The red-caped male led them up a path paved with shiny river stones. It wound up the hill, sometimes approaching the main road and sometimes veering farther away. Finally it led to a small but beautiful gate in the cyclopean fortress wall. It was not as large as the main gate, but was lined with two beautifully carved statues of the god.
Close up, it was easy to see that the fortress was more than undergoing a simple renovation. One entire wall in the rear of the structure was gone and another had just been rebuilt. Buildings inside the walls were being remade. Every brick was being replaced. Thousands of males and females were laying bricks, hauling stones, or pushing wheelbarrows. Hsrandtuss hadn’t seen so many people since he had visited Suusthek as a child.
Tokkenoht, the king’s third wife, gave a low hiss and Hsrandtuss turned to see what had drawn her attention.
The body of a huge creature lay on its back, rotting in the sun. It was over fifty feet long, easily as large as a tyrannosaurus, though it was obviously a quadruped. A thick armadillo-like armor that had once protected the mighty back, now seemed to weigh the body down to the ground, and the gigantic head, attached with almost no neck, now gazed at the sky with empty eye sockets.
“What is it?” asked Sszaxxanna.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Hsrandtuss replied.
“It was a magic beast,” said the red-caped envoy. “The god killed it.”
Hsrandtuss stared.
“Come with me,” said the envoy.
He led them to a one of the few completed structures near the newly rebuilt wall. Tall and boxy, the building was covered on all sides by hanging pots, from which grew flowering vines. Beneath the windows were more flowers growing in heavy stone window boxes.
“This is the style popular in the south,” said Sszaxxanna.
Hsrandtuss nodded. He didn’t ask her how she knew such a thing.
“Make yourself at home,” came the order, before the caped one left.
Seconds later four females entered through the same door that both the party and the envoy had used. They carried huge platters of food—raw meat, cut into fist-sized pieces, and fresh fruit. As the females placed the platters on the floor, the warriors all looked at their king, waiting for him to choose the best for himself.
“Remember your bowels,” whispered Sszaxxanna, leaning her long snout near his earhole. “Just have some fruit.”
“I’m too tired to eat,” he sighed, and then turned to his warriors. “Feast my friends.”
The warriors went right after the slabs of meat. Two of his wives did too, but Sszaxxanna quickly put an end to that.
“Get over here,” she hissed. “The king needs to be rubbed with oil while he relaxes.”
Tokkenoht and Sirris both looked suitably chastened.
“Oh, let them eat,” said Hsrandtuss. “I just want to go lie down for a bit.”
He opened the tiny pouch on his belt and pulled out a golden pocket watch that he had purchased from the soft-skin city trader for 2,500 copper bits. He held it in front of his first wife’s face and pointed to it.
“The little hand is on the river and the big hand is on the tree by the river. I want to get up when the little hand is on the claw and the big hand is on the ladle.” He handed her the watch.
“It will be done, Great King,” she said, and then snapped her fingers, calling his second wife. “Ssu will sleep with you and make sure you are comfortable.”
Hsrandtuss nodded. Ssu was good for little else, but she did a good job of seeing to his comfort.
“The sleeping room will be through there,” Ssaxxanna pointed.
Hsrandtuss found a large, well appointed chamber set up in the usual style. A fire pit burned in the center of the floor, surrounded by comfortable sleeping mats. The king climbed down onto one of the mats, pausing to appreciate its craftsmanship. Then descending to his stomach, he put his snout near the burning fire. Ssu settled next to him, on the same mat, placing her snout over his, and pressing her stomach to his side. He scratched her belly idly before drifting off to sleep. When he woke Ssu was gone, but Tokkenoht was in her place, in exactly the same position.
“The little hand is on the claw, Great King,” said Sszaxxanna, from the next sleeping mat to the left. “The big hand is past the ladle. It is on the stacked boulders.”
“Fine, fine.” Hsrandtuss pushed his fourth wife aside and stood up. He stretched out his arms and hissed in pleasant surprise. “I feel good. I feel rested. Find me some of that meat.”
His first wife rose with a single fluid motion that the king couldn’t help but admire, but he scowled when she held out her hand grasping a large, lush pomegranate. He took it, tearing it in two with his heavy claws and then eating it in two bites.
“Great King, Great King!” Sirris scurried into the room. “The god calls for you!”
“Come along,” he told Sszaxxanna, and then looking first to Tokkenoht and then Sirris. “Both of you too. Get the others. You must all come. Others might bring him better gifts, but none of them will show up with six wives, I can tell you that.”
“Your paint has become smudged,” said Sszaxxanna, looking him over.
“We haven’t time to worry about it now. Just wipe it off.”
Hsrandtuss stopped only long enough to let her wipe him down with a moist towel. He noted that at least the females were properly painted. Less than five minutes later, he was out the door followed by his entire retinue of wives and warriors. The red-caped envoy met him just outside and without a word, led him through the fortress and out a gate, recently rebuilt in the otherwise deconstructed wall. Halfway down the sloping hillside beyond, they entered a stone amphitheater. The lizardman king could see the god as soon as they entered.
Since time immemorial, the lizardmen had worshipped dragons. Their gods had lived among them and ruled over them. There had been a dozen in the pantheon, including Setemenothiss the black god of war and mighty Hissussisthiss the green god of fear. But they were all gone now: gone and dead. There was a new god though: a new, powerful, young god. He was much larger than the last time that Hsrandtuss had seen him, but there was no mistaking. Yessonar, the god of the Sky, sat in the center of the amphitheater. His massive head, covered in whiskers and spikes, lay resting in front of his great winged body. His whip like tail was hung off the edge of the stage. When stretched out completely, it was more than eighty feet from the former to the latter. Every inch of his body was covered with tightly woven scales, and they were the color of new steel.
In addition to the god’s servants and Hsrandtuss’s own group, there were five other groups of lizzies present: five congregations of lizzies from various villages. The king hissed unhappily. He knew four of the other leaders, two of them well, and he knew who the fifth was.
Zsackass was the king of Ussus. He had reigned longer than Hsrandtuss and seemed to delight in one-upmanship over the king of Hiissierra. If Hsrandtuss built a shrine, Zsackass built a temple. If the hunters from Hiissierra took down a gorgosaurus, Zsackass and his warriors killed a tyrannosaurus. And Zsackass loved to repeat how he had stolen his wife from Hiissierra.
Tokkentott was the new king of Hiikhuu, taking the leadership after killing the old king. As a warrior, he had led several attacks against Hiissierra after Hsrandtuss had stolen a group of females from Hiikhuu, including Tokkenoht, who had come from Tokkentott’s own house. Now as king, Tokkentott was actively attacking Hsrandtuss’s warriors on their patrols.
Tistakha was not exactly a friend, but Hsrandtuss knew him and had traded with him. He was the king of Tuustutu and owed as much of his village’s prosperity to the humans as Hiissierra did. The two villages were relatively close and traded between themselves as well as with the humans.
Then there was Szisz, the king of Suusiss. He had been closely allied with the city of Suusthek, which had been destroyed by the human witch woman. Hsrandtuss was surprised that he was even there. There was no love lost between Suusiss and the humans and the young god was closely allied to the soft-skins.
The unknown factor was Hakheekh, the king of Zis Chusstuss. The old village of Chusstuss had sat far north near the coast, but had run afoul of the humans when they had arrived. The old king, a curse be forever on his unspoken name, attacked the humans. When that didn’t work, he had allied himself with another group of soft-skins. He had picked the wrong side. The humans had made Chusstuss pay and afterwards, the lizzies that remained had abandoned it. Some of them had moved south and founded Zis Chusstuss. Zis Chusstuss had grown recently as lizzies from the south moved north, but Hsrandtuss didn’t know Hakheekh and didn’t know his politics.
Zsackass was standing before the young god. Yessonar’s voice rumbled throughout the stadium seats, but Hsrandtuss couldn’t hear what Zsackass was saying.
“I want to hear,” he hissed.
Sszaxxanna gave Tokkenoht a little shove, and the younger female opened her shoulder bag, pulling out a lizard talisman. She said a few words, shook the lizard on a stick, kissed it, and then blew into Hsrandtuss’s ear. Suddenly he could hear the words of everyone present.
“I bring you a great gift,” said Zsackass, waving three of his warriors forward.
The three colorfully painted males each carried a leather sack. In front of Yessonar, they opened them up to reveal that they were filled with the copper coins the humans made. Zsackass must have sold many animal skins to the humans to accumulate so much treasure. Hsrandtuss shook with mirth.
“What a fool,” he hissed gleefully. “What a stupid gift for Yessonar.”
“It is great wealth,” said Ssu, before Sszaxxanna slapped her mouth shut.
“Yessonar grew up among the soft-skins,” explained the king. “The copper bits are valuable to us, but I have seen the humans trade piles of them for a bit of scrap with a picture on it. The copper bits are not valuable to the humans and they will not be to Yessonar.”
“Thank you for your gift,” said the god with a shrug, seeming to confirm Hsrandtuss’s evaluation. One of the orderlies led the king back up to sit with his people. Tokkentott stepped forward to take Zsackass’s place.
“Great Yessonar, I too have a gift. I hope you will like it.” He glanced over his shoulder at Hsrandtuss.
Two warriors from Hiikhuu brought forth a wooden chest, which they sat at their king’s feet. He reached down and pulled the lid back. Reaching inside, he pulled out a large black rock.
Hsrandtuss slapped his knee and hissed.
“What an idiot. He brought coal.”
He turned toward his second wife, expecting her to ask why coal was not an acceptable gift, but she was busy avoiding Sszaxxanna’s fist. He looked around for someone to address and found his sixth wife, Kendra.
“The humans want coal, but the amount he could bring in that box can’t be worth more than a few copper coins.”
Kendra nodded knowingly.
“This is just a sample, Great Yessonar,” shouted Tokkentott, as if he had heard his rival. “I have brought the equivalent of 500 of these boxes.”
Hsrandtuss sucked in air at the extravagance, but Yessonar did not seem impressed. If anything he looked bored. His tail whipped around and he reached up a clawed hand to scratch his whiskers.
“Uh… that’s not all either,” said Tokkentott. “We will bring you more. You shall have all the black rock you want.”
“That is very nice. That really is splendid,” said the dragon without enthusiasm. “Thank you.”
The king of Hiikhuu slumped his shoulders and led his warriors back up to the rest of the embassy from his village. His place was taken by Szisz. The king of Suusiss was painted in his war paint and was decorated with utahraptor feathers. He crossed his arms and looked up the huge dragon.
“I have brought you no gift,” he said with a sneer in his voice. “You are a false god.”
“How dare you!” shouted Hsrandtuss.
Tistakha jumped to his feet. “I will kill you with my bare hands!” His warriors jumped up and down, baring their claws.
Both Zsackass and Tokkentott were equally enraged. Only Hakheekh remained calm, though some of his people certainly looked uncomfortable.
“Silence,” said the god, his demeanor sedate, though his voice still boomed through the open air. When relative calm returned, he looked at Szisz and spoke. “Go in peace.”
With a sneer, Szisz turned and marched up the steps to the exit. His warriors fell in line behind him.
“Have him followed,” whispered Hsrandtuss to Sszaxxanna. “I want to know everywhere that offspring of an addled egg goes and everything he does.”
“Tistakha, come forward,” said Yessonar. “How good it is to see you again.”
Tistakha waited until the last of those from Suusiss were out of sight before he stepped down in front of Yessonar.
“Hail, God of the Sky.”
“You have come quite a distance, Tistakha.”
“All for your glory, Yessonar, and I have brought gifts.”
He waved to his gathered people and three warriors brought forth a large bundle. Laying it on the ground, they began unfolding a huge skin. It was flat black and almost large enough for the dragon to wear as a coat. It was a tyrannosaurus skin that had been tanned and then prepared by having females, probably a dozen or more, of them chew on it until it was soft and supple.
Hsrandtuss let out a low whistle.
“A great gift,” said Tokkenoht.
The dragon lifted his long serpentine neck and moved his head over the skin, examining it carefully. Every so often, his forked tongue shot out to touch it.
“This is very well done,” he said. “What shall I do with it, do you suppose?”
“Anything you wish,” said Tistakha quickly. “I have several females who can cut and stitch it if you wish. It can be made into clothing. It can be mounted on a wall. It can be cut into squares, stitched together, and filled with feathers.”
“Pillows,” said the dragon. “Yes, I could use some of those. And maybe a satchel, so I can carry things with me. Wonderful. Wonderful.”
“It shall be done, God of the Sky,” said Tistakha, waving for his warriors to roll the skin back up.
He turned and marched back up to join his people, his dewlap flushing bright with pride.
Hsrandtuss didn’t wait to be invited down. He immediately marched to stand directly in front of the steel dragon’s massive head.
“Great Yessonar, I have come…”
Suddenly the great shining body rose to its feet. Two massive wings spread out wide enough to blot out the sun. The tail, tipped with a razor-sharp barb, whipped through the air. A great mouth opened and a few sparks shot out, floating to the ground before dying on the stone floor. Then just as suddenly, the dragon plopped back down. He closed his mouth and ran his huge, clawed fingers through his whiskers. Then suddenly his attention was back on the king of Hiissierra.
“My old friend Hsrandtuss. It is good to see you again.”
“Great Yessonar.”
“Is it true that you have six wives and that you’ve brought them all with you to see me?” asked the dragon. “I should have expected something like that from you, but still… six seems quite excessive.”
“It’s not excessive. Khassna had fifty wives and mated with hundreds of females.”
“You see yourself as another Khassna?”
Hsrandtuss stopped for a moment, then continued, carefully choosing his words. “Khassna was evil. He was on the wrong side of things. He was a poor king. But he was a great warrior and he was loyal to his god.”
“Well said,” commented Yessonar. “Well, let me see your wives then.”
The king waved his wives toward him without looking back. They formed a line to his left.
“This is Sszaxxanna and Ssu and…”
“Yes, I remember these two from my visit to your village.”
“My third wife is Szakhandu. She is from great Tsahloose, from a noble house.”
“Did you buy her, or was it part of an alliance?” asked the dragon.
“Both,” replied Hsrandtuss. “Her family is well connected in their city but are not as wealthy as they once were. They were happy to have her married to a wild male, so long as he had trade relations with the humans. Next to her is Tokkenoht. I stole her from Hiikhuu.”
He looked over his shoulder at Tokkentott, who was silently fuming.
“A female witch-doctor?” wondered the dragon. “Curious.”
“Then there is Sirris. She comes from Tserich and knows much trade and speaks many lizzie dialects. Finally, there is Kendra.”
“Oh, I know her too, don’t I?” Then Yessonar broke into the musical language of the humans. Kendra replied and they spoke back and forth. Hsrandtuss leaned over so that Sszaxxanna could translate for him.
“He asks her how she comes to be in Hiissierra. She says she leaves the human city before the war and doesn’t want to go back. He asks if you are a good husband. She says you are a good husband and a good king.”
“I see you are a wily one, Hsrandtuss,” said the dragon, once again speaking the lizzie tongue. “Among your wives you have trade connections north and south, an alliance with the largest city-state, a magic-user, a hunter, and a translator.”
“Yes, God of the Sky.”
“So, just one more question. If I were to eat one of your females, which one should I choose?”
“I am sure that Ssu would taste the best,” said Hsrandtuss, and Sszaxxanna shoved Ssu forward. Ssu looked too terrified to move.
The dragon laughed a deep rumbling laugh.
“Relax, he will not eat you,” the king told his second wife.
“I am glad you are here, Hsrandtuss,” said Yessonar. “We will talk later.”
“Wait, Great God of the Sky. I have a gift for you too.”
He held out his hand and Sirris placed a small bundle in it. Carefully unwrapping the cloth covering revealed what the humans called a “book.” He held up the grey and black volume with the gold lettering facing upwards.
“Power and Guilt: The Crimes of Klaus II of Freedonia by Isaak Wissinger,” read Yessonar. “I’ve been meaning to read this one. Can you open it for me?
Hsrandtuss didn’t really know how a book was supposed to be used, but he held it as steady as he could and lifted the top cover back.
“Yes, the title. McCoort and McCoort Publishing. Yes. Turn the page please.”
Hsrandtuss carefully lifted the first thin white leaf.
“Ah, there it is: the dedication. For Zurfina.” The dragon’s voice became smaller than Hsrandtuss thought possible. “It’s dedicated to my mother.”
“What is this word—nother?” Hsrandtuss asked Szaxxanna in a whisper.
Sxaxxanna shrugged, but Kendra leaned toward him.
“The female that laid his egg.”