'That's very kind of you,' she replied courteously, 'but we're in something of a hurry.'
'Such a pity.' She finally managed to free her hand. His touch was greasy. 'Tell me: what compels you to flee the dragoons' hospitality so precipitously?'
'White light.' Without openly jostling the captain, Oskar did his best to worm his way between him and the patently uncomfortable Cocoa. 'We have to find some, and take it back with us to our country.'
'White light? As an educated person I know of the existence of many colors, but not white.' Turning, the captain gestured in the direction of the river. 'Certainly there is none such to be had in the Kingdom of Red, but I have heard tales—old people's fancies, travelers' stories—of the many wonders that lie far to the east. The Kingdom of Purple especially is rumored to contain many marvels. I was once told, by a venerable and experienced traveler, of a temple there that contains within its walls examples of everything that is, or ever was, or that can be imagined. If your white light is to be found anywhere within the kingdoms, I would think that would be the place. You will assuredly not find it in the Kingdom of Orange that lies just across the river, which we know well.'
'We'll cross whatever lands we must,' Mamakitty informed him. 'We can't go home without it.'
Furry ears twitched as the captain bobbed his head. 'I'm sure your quest is a noble one, though for the life of me I can't imagine why anyone would need to acquire such a mysterious intangibility.' Reaching out, he took Cocoa's hand before she could avoid his grasp. 'You have no travel documents. A fact I am willing to overlook.'
'That's real neighborly of you.' Oskar noticed that a number of the dragoons in their immediate vicinity had stopped laboring at their daily tasks and were slowly picking up their weapons. A new scent was in the air, and it was not onions. 'We'll be going now.'
'By all means,' agreed the captain. 'Take your leave. However, in the absence of documents I am afraid the kingdom demands security of another kind. One of you must remain behind to guarantee the good conduct of the others.' His grip on Cocoa's wrist tightening, he nodded at her and grinned alarmingly. 'This one. She will not be harmed, and will be treated as an honored guest until you return.'
'We can't do that.' Mamakitty stepped forward. 'You see, we're kind of used to each other's company. Also, we believe that it's important to the success of our quest that we stay together. We pose no threat to the Kingdom of Red, or any other kingdom.'
There was no mistaking the intent of the circle of dragoons, who, though incompletely attired and out of formation, were now closing an armed circle around the travelers. As unobtrusively as possible, Oskar let his right hand fall toward his sword. Samm made a show of unlimbering his great axe, while Taj gripped one of the rather insignificant-looking knives with which he had been outfitted.
Disdaining any further diplomacy, Cezer pushed his way forward, sword already drawn, eyes ablaze, teeth bared. 'Take your hands off her, sir! It is no gentleman who designs to hold a lady against her will.'
'Well and stupidly spoken.' Releasing Cocoa's wrist, Captain Covalt slowly drew his own blade. 'Obviously, you are unaware of my reputation as a swordsman.'
'And you are unaware of mine!' Relaxing into a fighting stance, Cezer prepared to defend Cocoa's honor, ignoring the fact that she had drawn her own sword.
'You have no reputation,' Mamakitty hissed at him.
'I will in a few moments—I hope,' the would-be cavalier responded tightly.
Slowly shaking his head, Captain Covalt removed his splendidly embroidered jacket and handed it to one of his attaches. He was solidly built; his would not be an easy defense to penetrate. Oskar tried to conceal his concern. Though enthusiastic and energetic enough, Cezer had no formal training in swordsmanship, whereas the captain was an experienced soldier.
'Let me handle this.' Axe in hand, Samm took a giant step forward. Instantly dragoons surrounded him, raising and aiming a lethal assortment of arrows, bolts, and spears—any weapon that could be employed from a safe distance.
'Keep out of it, Samm.' Describing small circles in the air with the point of his sword, Cezer was prancing threateningly before the captain. 'I picked this fight, and I'll finish it.'
Covalt nodded once, curtly. 'Indeed you will, my friend. I can see that you are extraordinarily quick of hand and foot, with much natural talent. I can also see that you are inexperienced in the arts of war. Though I could cut you to pieces, I won't let you suffer. Your death will be a quick one.'
Oskar stepped forward. 'Look, isn't there some way we can settle this with further discussion?'
'The time for words is past.' Sword fully extended, Covalt widened his stance. 'Don't worry—once this one is disposed of and the girl comfortably situated here, there will still be plenty of you left to carry out your quest.' Turning his attention back to his opponent, he uttered what might have been a formal challenge—or a local imprecation.
With a wild yowl, Cezer charged. His thrusting sword was parried with such subtlety that Oskar could not be certain he had seen the captain's blade move. Its point caught Cezer in the left buttock as he rushed past the dragoon, pricking him and bringing blood.
'This is too easy.' Bouncing lightly on short legs and feet that Oskar noticed for the first time were slightly webbed, Covalt awaited his opponent's next rush. 'I am a soldier, not an assassin of children.'
'No: you're a polite would-be rapist—would-be, say I!' Cezer charged again.
This time the captain stood his ground, parrying every swipe and strike Cezer could muster. Eventually bored, Covalt struck back, his sword jabbing at his opponent's exposed chest. Fortunately, the sword point was diverted by a silver pillbox residing in Cezer's breast pocket. The force of the thrust alone, however, was enough to send him stumbling backward. Covalt followed, pressing the attack relentlessly.
'He's going to kill him!' Taj stuttered. 'Somebody do something!' His gaze turned up and back. 'Samm, you have to stop this!'
The giant's teeth were clenched. 'He said not to interfere.'
'But you have to!' As Taj fingered the knife he held, he saw several soldiers staring hard in his direction, their own weapons upraised, ready to block any attempt to intervene in the duel. Constrained like his companions, Taj could only stand by and watch.
The remorseless Covalt continued to force Cezer steadily backward. Although his companion's efforts with the sword steadily improved as the fight continued, Oskar saw that his friend remained desperately overmatched against the skilled officer. The dog-man's eyes darted from side to side. No matter the consequences, he knew that he was going to have to intercede. As an upshot they might all die, but despite the surface acrimony that existed between them, he knew he could not let Cezer be killed without at least attempting to save him. They shared too many memories from the times they had slept curled up against one another as puppy and kitten.
Whirling, the embattled Cezer leaped onto a wagon. Covalt followed more slowly, admiring his opponent's gymnastic ability if not his swordsmanship. Now there was nowhere else for Cezer to retreat. The sheer wall of the stockade was at his back. Sweating profusely, muscles trembling, he let out a yowl of anger at the situation circumstances had forced him into.
'Master Evyndd, is this what you intended!'
'I don't know this 'Master Evyndd.'' Sword darting smoothly from side to side like a patrolling dragonfly, Captain Covalt was preparing to climb up into the wagon after his adversary. 'But he can't help you. Not now.' Choosing his route, he thrust upward with his weapon.
Though still too far away to make contact with the other's blade, Cezer made desperate, wild parrying motions. And then, quite unexpectedly, their blades did make contact. But only because Cezer's weapon had suddenly doubled in length. Impossibly, it felt no heavier, though there was clearly twice as much steel protruding from the pommel as a moment before.
It was enough to make Covalt blink. The captain hesitated only briefly, however, before striking again. In response, his opponent's engorged weapon seemed to take on a life of its own, as though drawing strength from some cat part of its holder usually employed in entirely different campaigns of conquest. As he wielded the taut, shining blade that was now some six feet long yet lighter than ever, an entirely new and fresh expression came over Cezer's face.
Anticipation.
Stabbing and swinging, it was his turn to press the attack. Unable to slip in a thrust beneath so active and extended a blade, Covalt was forced to give ground. As he did so, the preternaturally elongated sword began to swing faster and faster, until it was generating an audible hum that could be heard everywhere within the Red Dragoons' post. How he was doing this Cezer did not know, although every swing of the weapon seemed to be
