Chapter 8: Dron of Dronnta

From behind him, Pete heard a gasped "Strider!"

"No!" he contradicted in a fierce whisper. "A Great One. Stay calm, and let me do the talking."

As their eyes grew used to the semidarkness, they could see that the opener of the door was indeed huge, though not as large as they had first thought. More stockily built than KeeBar's people, and with more protruding jaws, he towered a full eight feet tall in spite of his less than upright posture. Crossed belts of tooled leather supported various items, including several knives and a heavy sword. He seemed even more surprised than they were, so after a long moment of silence, Pete spoke up.

"We bring greetings, oh Great One. We are lost in a land that is indeed strange to us. We ask your aid in this time of our need."

The deepset eyes glowed in astonishment at this polite speech.

"Please enter." The booming voice was easily understood, even though some of the sounds were slurred to their unaccustomed ears. "I will conduct you to His Excellency."

The huge figure ushered them into the courtyard, while others of its kind, similarly equipped but carrying primitive firearms, closed and barred the gate behind them. Flanked by a halfdozen Great Ones, they followed their guide's ponderous strides down a winding corridor. He left them to wait in a small room.

"So these are KeeBar's Great Ones," Steve remarked in English. "They look a lot like those striders we saw."

"Their form is certainly less humanoid than that of KeeBar's people," Amy admitted. "Less erect, heavier jaws, and smaller brains in proportion to their size."

"Perhaps, but their brains are large enough in absolute size, and their hands look dexterous enough," Pete answered.

"Pete, look here," Nancy called from where she was examining a low table. "Don't these legs look like they were turned on a lathe?"

"They sure do, and unless I miss my guess, those guns our guards were carrying were put together on a production line. We may just have hit the jackpot!"

"Maybe, but I haven't seen anything yet that looks like it was run by electricity. That's one thing we absolutely have to have. No juice, no signaler," Amy reminded him.

"Psst!" Pete warned. "Cool it."

"His Excellency, Lord Dron of Dronnta, will see you now," their guide's deep voice intoned from the doorway of the waiting room.

Still escorted by the squad of armed guards, they followed their guide down another winding corridor. Light filtered in through a few high, narrow windows, supplemented by thick candles as tall as their hosts. They finally paused outside an ornately carved door, where their guide turned to face them.

"Please leave your weapons here."

Their escort stood with their weapons halfraised, plainly ready to swing into instant action. Pete unslung his carbine, casually leaning it against the wall. At his nod, Amy and Lyssa did the same.

The door swung open. They entered, and it closed solidly behind them. Crouched at his ease behind a low desk, His Excellency dwarfed even the picked soldiers of his guard. Light from high windows gleamed deep red from his polished scales, picked out details of embroidery in his robe, and glinted from jeweled rings on his fourfingered hands. His magnificent crest was decorated with gold and silver ornaments on the tips of its spines, and a jeweled bangle hung from the fringed curve of each ear.

"So, you are the 'strangers from far away'," his deep voice rumbled. "You must be from far away, indeed. Certainly, I have never heard of your kind, though it is true that I have been out of touch with events in the land of Thant for the past several years." The time period he mentioned was eight months long, each month consisting of thirtytwo of EssChad's long days. "Tell me of yourselves; your names, where you come from, and how you come to be here with two of our wards from the GreatSwamp."

Pete introduced himself and the rest of the party, noting that another Great One crouched unobtrusively at a smaller desk, jotting down a record of all that transpired.

"We came to this land with others of our kind, from a very great distance, hoping to find new markets for our trade goods," he continued. "While we were exploring, seeking to learn what valuable things the people here might trade with us, a great storm swept us away. It took us many days to return. We found that the others of our people, thinking we had died in the storm, had gone back to our land. We are not able to eat of your foods, so we must find a way to send word to our people before our food is all gone. If we cannot do this, we shall die. The 'Chosen Ones' of the GreatSwamp cannot help us, for we need metals and tools to shape metals. We have come to you in the hope that you will help us."

The giant figure sat motionless, his slitpupiled eyes fixed on Pete's face as he talked.

"You ask for aid at an inopportune moment," he rumbled when Pete had finished. "These are troubled times in the land of Thant. Also, it seems that you have passed over many things rather lightly, small trader from a far land. But no matter. These things can be discussed at greater length after you have had a chance to rest and refresh yourselves. Klul!" The Great One who had met them at the gate reappeared. "Show these my guests to rooms where they may stay. I shall speak to them again after the noon meal."

He dropped his gaze to the papers on his desk as his 'guests' were escorted from the room. Once again, they followed the hulking form of Klul down narrow corridors, this time to a suite of rooms that opened onto a small courtyard.

Klul left them at the door, striding away without a word or backward glance.

"He sure seems grumpy about something," Charley commented. "Wonder what's eating him."

"You worry too much," Lyssa chided. "Let's see what they gave us in the way of rooms."

She and Nancy darted away to explore the suite, finding that there were four large rooms, and several smaller ones.

"I'm not too worried about Klul," Pete confided to Amy. "It's Dron who has the sayso about whether we get any help or not."

"Yes, and he as much as told you that he expected more in the way of answers than what you've already given him. He was just too polite to question us before we had been given time to clean up a bit."

"What worries me right now, is how much I should tell him." He turned to Steve. "You're the government man. How much can I legally tell Dron? What are the rules in a case like this?"

"If you want an official answer, you're out of luck. That kind of question has to be decided by a board of experts back in Washington."

"Spoken like a true bureaucrat!" Amy snapped. "Tell him whatever you have to. If our government has any complaints, just tell them that their precious Mr. Jordan didn't tell us not to."

"Now that isn't what I meant, and you know it," Steve complained. "It's just that I don't dare to make that kind of a decision on my own. I could lose my job over something like that. Of course, if you just want my unofficial opinion, that's something else entirely."

They were interrupted by a shout of glee from the other rooms. "Come and see what we've found!"

Lyssa had solved the secret of a complex array of knobs and levers protruding from the wall of one of the smaller rooms, and already had a huge sunken tub half full of steaming water. Nancy rummaged through a curtained alcove, coming up with an armload of fluffy towels, and an object that looked like a waxen beach ball.

"What's that thing supposed to be?" Pete asked. "A bath toy?"

"Of course not, silly. It's soap! Or at least, I think it is. Now, if you men will just go back out into the other rooms for a bit, you can have the tub when we're through with it.

Thus it was that Klul found a very differentlooking group when he returned for them. The mud and dirt were gone from their clothes and their persons, and the bulky packs were laid aside. Even the sling on Dan's arm had been replaced with a fresh cloth, and they awaited their guide with an air of pleased anticipation. Once again, they followed him along winding corridors. This time, they came out into a small courtyard. Neatly laid out beds of ornamental plants and brightly colored fungi imparted a sense of being in a formal garden.

At their approach, Dron looked up reluctantly from his contemplation of a delicately wrought bronze statuette of some exotic water creature. He had thrown aside his robe, and lay at ease on one of the low pedestals that served his race as chairs or benches, enjoying one of the rare patches of sunlight that struck through breaks in the scattered cloud cover. Motioning them to nearby pedestals, he set the statuette carefully aside.

"Now, he rumbled. "You have bathed and rested, and I have finished with my duties for a time. Tell me more about yourselves, and of how you come to be here."

Pete floundered mentally for a moment at this abrupt command, then gave a concise report of their adventures. He began with his arrival on EssChad, ending as he knocked on the door of Dron's fort. Dron listened intently, interrupting from time to time with questions about their helicopter and other points of interest.

"The only thing I don't understand, is why you didn't come to us first, instead of attempting to establish relations with the swamp tribes."

"We didn't even know that you existed, until the chief of Kee village told us that he would have to have your permission to trade with us. Even then, we had no idea what kind of beings you might be. And that brings us to another question. Why was that permission denied us? KeeBar was told by his chief that your answer was for them to have absolutely nothing to do with us. We were told to leave immediately, and not come back."

"I knew nothing of this," Dron replied. "Klul often answers the questions that the Chosen Ones bring to us, but anything of importance should have been brought to my attention." He flicked a tiny gong with the tip of his tail, and in moments Klul stood respectfully before him.

"Why were the tribes told not to trade with these strangers from far away? Why was the command given that the strangers leave, and not come back?"

Klul shifted nervously as he answered, "It... It did not seem important at the time. Trade among the tribes could be a disruptive influence, allowing some tribes to become overly large."

"What of the strangers? Why was I not told of them?"

"All that the messengers said was that they were from a distant tribe," Klul replied. He seemed more at ease as the questions continued.

"That not true," KeeBar whispered, plucking at Pete's sleeve. "I talk to KeeThassen in village. He say, Great One ask many questions about strangers and their machines and weapons. Want to know all about them."

"Your Excellency!" Pete interrupted the questioning. "My friend, here, says that your servant does not tell the truth."

"Then let him speak for himself," Dron commanded.

KeeBar stood, looking slightly overwhelmed at first, and repeated what he had told Pete. Klul's anger grew with each word that KeeBar uttered.

"You lie!" he screamed, and with a whistling roar, sprang at KeeBar with fanged jaws agape!

Pete sprang lightly aside, pulling KeeBar out of Klul's path as the rest of the party scattered. Klul turned for another rush, ignoring Dron's shouted commands, but stumbled slightly as he sprang. Instantly, Amy leaped onto his back. Before he could regain his balance and tear her from her perch, she struck at the base of his skull with a tiny bronze vase, slipping clear as he collapsed in a twitching heap.

Catching up a padded maul, Dron sounded a gong. Instantly, Pete and his friends were surrounded by armed guards. Dron waved them aside, and pointed to Klul.

"Take that one and bind him securely," he commanded, and when that was done dismissed all but two of the soldiers.