'Hardly,' murmured Phuswick. Rising from his chair, he lurched forward until he was standing fragrantly close to Oskar and Mamakitty. 'I'll draw you a map, as best I can recall from what I know. Beyond that, you're on your own. I can give you no further help. I don't do much buzzing around soldiers.' Reaching out, he gave Oskar's nose a severe twist. 'But I'm only doing this because I like you,' he finished as Mamakitty, palm cupped protectively over her face, ducked back out of his reach.
The narrow road through the Glavieb Hills was surfaced with reddish clay. For several days subsequent to leaving Pyackill, traffic grew progressively thinner, until a last trio of farmers parted ways with the travelers not far back up the road.
'This must be harsh country in which to raise crops.' Taj was striding along easily, one hand shading his eyes from the sizzling red sun as he studied the rugged hills through which they had been climbing for the better part of the day.
'Depends on local conditions, I suppose.' Nudging a rock aside with one booted foot, Cocoa exposed the carmine-colored cockroach that had been hiding beneath. It scurried off in search of a more secure place of concealment. No ordinary human would have heard the skritching of its tiny feet, but like her companions, Cocoa was neither ordinary nor entirely human. She fought off the urge to chase down the cockroach, trap it under one hand, and eat it.
Something came screaming down the slope toward them. Mamakitty ducked, while Oskar and Cezer reacted by drawing their swords. The bird was red-blue, with enormous splayed wings and a single eye set in the middle of its skull. There were tiny teeth in its beak, and as it rocketed past the travelers it snapped at Mamakitty's curls. Then it was gone, an ominous presence soaring out of sight below boulders and ridges they had just traversed.
Straightening, Mamakitty felt gingerly of her coiffure. It was intact, as was her scalp. 'Never saw anything like that before.'
'Maybe it was just trying to be 'friendly,' in the local manner,' Cezer suggested dryly. 'Maybe it wasn't even a bird.'
'Oh, it was a bird, all right.' Taj spoke with some authority on the matter. 'Not a seed-eater, either.'
Though the unexpected and brief assault had harmed no one, they remained on high alert as they continued to ascend, scrambling over boulders and rocks with effortless agility. Only Taj, unaccustomed to climbing, had any trouble with the ascent, and he was helped over the rough spots by his companions.
It took several days of steady tramping to reach the border country, during which time the harshness of much of the terrain slowly gave way to increasingly lush vegetation. Rivulets became streams, streams became rivers, as the entire character of the landscape through which they were marching lost its rough edge.
It also lost some of its all-pervasive color. The hardy red tint that had stained everyone and everything they had encountered since Taj had first stumbled into the rainbow at the base of the Shalouan Falls grew muted. They were entering a region where two colors of the rainbow melded, as one kingdom gave way to another.
Oskar was especially pleased by the transformation. Not that he particularly disliked the color red, but in addition to the heat it seemed to amplify, its multiple variations had a way of sanctifying the kind of mannered hostility they hoped to leave behind.
Certainly the coloration of the atmosphere, as well as the countryside, was becoming noticeably softened. In the distance, rolling hills covered with thick vegetation took on a distinctive orange hue. Perhaps, he hoped, they were about to enter a land where courtesy was not founded on the prickliness of physical contact. But first they had to make certain they were traveling in the right direction.
There was no need to spend time searching for the Red Dragoons. As soon as they reached the main river, they found themselves confronted by a pair of those splendidly uniformed border guards.
'Travel documents, please.' Cerise light glinted from the brightly polished helmet of the young man who bent low in the saddle of his kudu to query Oskar.
'I'm afraid we don't have any documents. We're strangers here, having come from,' he thought rapidly before concluding, 'far to the west. From the other side of the Kingdom of Red.'
The dragoon's companion laughed softly at this, but the one asking the questions did not smile. 'Oh, come now, traveler. What do you take me for? There are no kingdoms to the west of Red. Beyond that farthest border the climate grows too hot for intelligent life. Nothing can survive there.'
'Nevertheless,' put in Mamakitty, sensing that Oskar needed support, 'that is where we come from. But our country is not so very hot. Not even as hot as this. We traveled hence by means you would not understand.'
'Ah!' The dragoon sat up straight in his saddle. 'Then you are magicians!'
'We certainly owe our presence here to magic,' Oskar admitted truthfully.
'They don't look like magicians.' The other rider spoke for the first time. Oskar noted that he had four horns protruding from his head, a third eye in the center of his forehead, and only three long fingers on each hand. 'And they smell funny. Especially that one.' He indicated Oskar, who looked hurt.
'It's not for us to decide.' The soldier who had carried the conversation backed his steed a couple of paces. 'You must come with us to the post. Captain Covalt will decide what is to be done with you.'
'That's fine with us,' Oskar replied amiably. 'We have a question or two for him as well.'
The dragoons' base consisted of a cluster of tents and small wooden buildings surrounded by a stockade of flexible red trunks and branches that had been interwoven together horizontally as well as vertically to form a strong, impenetrable barricade. It was the first wall Oskar had ever seen that looked as if it had been braided rather than built. From its location atop a sloping but dominant hill, the post commanded a fine view over the surrounding countryside, including the wide, slow-flowing river that ran from north to south on its western flank. As well as sky and clouds, the flora on the far side of the river had a distinctly orange cast.
Dragoons busy with washing, or maneuvers, or drilling paused in their tasks to observe the escorted newcomers' arrival. Particular attention was paid to Samm, since it is natural for soldiers everywhere to instinctively size up the most formidable of any potential opponent. The giant's imposing stone axe garnered murmurs of admiration.
The travelers were not troubled when the stockade gate was shut behind them. Having committed no offense, they had nothing to fear. They were here to answer questions, and to ask one or two of their own.
Their escorts disappeared into a single-story stone structure. Water was provided to the waiting guests. Within moments a trio of officers emerged, resplendent with polish, paint, and attitude. Only one was human. A second had the wide, flat face so typical of the city dwellers the travelers had encountered in Pyackill. He also boasted a long, naked, rat-like tail that emerged from the seat of his trousers, and two finger-thick whiplike antennae that protruded from his forehead. His companion was barely three feet tall, with a face like a carp and an inability to stand still.
As for the post commandant, Captain Covalt, he was of moderate height and dark of skin, with a bald head and two furry ears that thrust upward from either side of his skull. His jaw line flaunted an unfortunate natural downward curve that afflicted him with a permanent frown, and he had no visible nose. A wide mouth overfilled with small whitish teeth completed the countenance, which despite its somewhat forbidding features was not overtly malicious.
'So, you claim to come from west of the kingdom, and by means sorceral?' Though he spoke to Oskar, his gaze was fastened on Cocoa.
'We entered into this realm from a land where no one color is dominant,' Oskar replied. 'I know that may be difficult for you to accept, but—'
'It is not difficult to accept: it is impossible to accept. AH kingdoms are cloaked in a preclusive dominant color. That is the way the world was made. As well as being a soldier, I am also something of a scholar of such arcana. Call it a hobby, with which I try to while away the long lonely hours in isolated outposts such as this.' Approaching Cocoa, he smiled a dentist's dream, took her hand, and kissed it. Given the width of his jaws, he could just as easily have swallowed it. 'And what might your name be, my dear?'
'Cocoa.' She tried not to show the revulsion she was feeling. This was not due so much to his hybrid appearance, so different from anything they had yet encountered, as to his smelling strongly of onions despite the fact that there was nothing in the least tuberous in his mien.
'A lovely name for a lovely lady. I request the honor of sitting next to you at dinner tonight.' He struggled to smile, wrestling with the natural arc of his lips. 'You will be our guests, of course.'
