Khisanth well knew that rumors and speculation were rampant on the subject. She had no interest in or concern with quelling them. There was something mystical-pro shy;phetic, even-about her journey to the Abyss and the Queen of Darkness, something that made Khisanth want to hug the details to herself.

"I've had an awakening, yes," said the newly appointed second-in-command. "You could even take a measure of credit for talking me into it," she added. "Make no mistake, though. My goals have not changed, simply my route to them. I intend to play an important role in returning the dragons to rule."

"Does that important role require you to step on me?"

Khisanth heard her friend's thinly disguised suspicions. "I

think there'll be enough positions for all dragons worthy of serving our queen."

They caught up with Maldeev then at the far southern edge of the drill field, and both fell into an unusually strained silence. At least the rain had stopped.

"There they are," breathed Maldeev with near reverence, pointing to the endless stream of creatures marching against the gray sky. Their formation was tight, a narrow ribbon in the grassy northwestern foothills, made greener by the day's rain. The beleaguered highlord could scarcely contain his excitement at the sight of the approaching dragon men.

Maldeev had never before seen a draconian, let alone met one. His awed tones were based solely on the draconians' reputation as the meanest, most fearless and indestructible fighting creatures ever known. They were also known to be fond of ale and spirits, which made them especially sadistic. Heeding the advice of the Red Wing commander with whom he'd arranged delivery of the draconians, Maldeev had removed all spirits from the reach of the troops. The human rank and file had grumbled in protest, but Maldeev sus shy;pected they'd all agree once they encountered a drunken dra shy;conian, as would inevitably happen, despite his best efforts.

The sounds of shuffling troops on the move got louder as the dragon men approached. Now Maldeev could clearly see the face of Horak, the human with whom Maldeev had exchanged missives. The Red Wing commander would join the Black Wing to lead the draconian forces in the upcoming war. Horak's back was ramrod straight in his bright plate mail. Poking through the narrow openings in his imposing great helm were wayward tendrils of copper-colored hair. Horak had a quill-thin, carrot-colored mustache and slight beard that was likely the result of many days on the trail.

Raising high a banner on his pike, which still held the sym shy;bol of Ariakas's Red Wing, Horak signaled his troops to halt some two hundred yards from where Maldeev and his imposing black dragons waited. The armored horseman spurred his black gelding in the ribs and galloped swiftly up to Maldeev, kicking clouds of choking dust up from the field.

Horak pivoted to stop as if on a steel piece. He pushed his helm back so that its face rested atop his red head.

"Field Commander Horak," he said crisply. His gelding pranced fitfully after the long trek. "I'm pleased to report that we lost only eleven of five hundred twenty-three draconians in two hundred miles, due mainly to infighting. The rigors of trail life seem to bring out the worst in them."

"Excellent!" crowed Maldeev. No introduction of himself was needed or expected.

"We will review the troops momentarily. But first, we must replace that." Maldeev pointed with near disdain at the banner on the tip of Horak's pike. The highlord snapped his fingers. Maldeev's head adjutant stepped forward anxiously, in his hands a folded piece of black-bordered cloth. Maldeev revealed a glorious rendition of the Black Wing's own ban shy;ner, designed by Maldeev himself. On three sides of the rec shy;tangle-two long, and one short side that would be attached to the pike-was a three-inch border of darkest black. Inside that was a white rectangle, a contrasting background for the black dragon depicted in impressive detail, down to scales made from overlapping ovals of black silk. Most striking of all, though, was the dragon's red, forked tongue, lashing out from bared teeth to form the banner's outer, short edge.

Horak restrained any signs of flinching. It was an abrupt but necessary symbolic shift of allegiance from the Red to the Black Wing. The human forced a look of eager pride to his freckle-flecked face. Slipping the banner's loops over the tip of his pike, he waved it over his head. The humans and ogres who had gathered behind Maldeev whooped joyously.

Behind Horak, the draconians seemed unmoved, which momentarily surprised the highlord. Catching his expres shy;sion, Horak said, "Don't be concerned, Highlord. They are loyal servants of the Dark Queen. Draconians are devoid of emotion, except for hate … and love of ale."

Maldeev shook away his dismayed look, annoyed at him shy;self for showing his lack of knowledge before this new com shy;mander. The dragon highlord squinted at the troops, evaluat shy;ing them. "Which are the baaz, and which are kapak? Tell me, how do you make such creatures without magic?"

"The brass-tinged ones in the front with the hooded capes and short wings are the baaz. They were the first made. A hardening liquid is injected into the eggs of Good brass drag shy;ons, which remains in their adult bodies. The liquid hardens to stone if they're killed, which also traps any weapons inside them."

Horak pointed directly at a baaz near the front of the legion. "You may notice that some of them look vaguely human, like Gorbel. With a minor mask over his snout and a long, bulky cape, he makes a fairly convincing man-I fre shy;quently use Gorbel in particular as a spy."

Maldeev nodded his appreciation.

"All in all, baaz are small but exceedingly powerful, nearly two-thirds of the assembled troops."

Horak removed a gauntlet and pointed a finger. "Behind them are the kapaks, made from copper dragons." He shook his head wistfully. "Unfortunately, they're neither as smart nor even as tolerable to look at as the baaz, with that strange hank of mane dangling from their jaws. They also refuse to wear clothing of any sort. Those large, leathery wings make them fair gliders, though they would be considered pathetic compared to dragons." The red-haired commander gave an appreciative look to Jahet and Khisanth, who were listening and watching with silent but scarcely concealed disdain.

"Fortunately," continued Horak, "kapak respond well to orders from humans. They'll even listen to the more intelli shy;gent of the baaz. Their hand-to-hand skills are matchless in combination with the venom of their saliva."

Maldeev rocked back on his heels, arms crossed tightly before him. "Very impressive," he breathed.

"You should see the newest draconians," Horak said abruptly, his tone conversational. "The gold auraks have magical abilities that rival a dragon's. They can't fly, but their intelligence more than makes up for that.

"And the sivaks …" He whistled. "Their skills are bound shy;less! Their silver wings spread in flight are a sight to behold! As strong as giants, perhaps, they can shapechange at will. In fact, when someone does manage to slay them, they automat shy;ically change into the form of their slayer for three days, then burst into flames and destroy all around them. Wonderful effect!"

Horak sighed wistfully. "Dragon Highlord Ariakas just received five hundred of each. What I wouldn't do to earn command of some of them one day…."

The tips of Maldeev's ears burned red. He was receiving Ariakas's rejects! His moment of triumph had dissolved into degradation. "When can I expect my allotment of auraks and sivaks to replace these wretched abominations?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Horak seemed at last to sense his error. "Sir, baaz and kapaks are still far superior to humans in sheer physical strength and fighting ability. They have served Highlord Ari shy;akas well. With their help, the Black Wing will surely rise in status and-"