One Quarter Saurian

Bits of stone, splintered timber, and seared bone crunched under the feet of the two Harmonant brothers as they moved to the last building standing at the end of Oak Street. It was the last house they had left to check. Walther rested a casual hand on his sword hilt as he kicked the front door of the battered home as hard as he could. The door slapped back against the inside wall and it bounced back part way before coming to a stop. Thin clouds of dust swirled in the shaft of sunlight that streamed in through the open door. The hint of charred flesh still hung in the air like an afterthought.

Simon sighed. “You don't have to keep doing that Walther. It’s unseemly.”

“I like kicking doors open,” he said as he headed into the long deserted space. “I’d break glass if I could find any.”

“Dukes do not kick open doors. They have men for that.”

Walther pushed a chair away from a few pieces of crate that had been used for a table. “The barracks are a little thin this week.” He checked an ink bottle, found it empty, and tossed it to the side.

“Do you really expect to find anything of any value in this loose collection of bricks and boards?”

“It's something to do,” Walther sighed as he turned over an empty wooden box. With a quick hand, he reached inside and pulled out a scrap of paper with writing on one half of one side. “This might be something.” He handed it to Simon and waggled it until his brother took the half- finished note.

“It’s in one of the darker tongues,” Simon said. “It has a sergeant telling his girl that she should be with him because he is the strongest in his squad.”

Walther put his hands on his hips and stared at the walls one by one. “So, I looked around and found a decent fire- starter. Great.”

“And, our sargeant says that the town of Lord’s Ferry, the town where she lives, is about to be quote swallowed by a thousand devils endquote.” Simon turned to page over in his hands until he was sure that there was nothing more of interest. “Bad day to be in Lord’s Ferry.”

Walther walked out of the building and snapped the note away from his brother on the way. “I’d imagine any day in Lord’s Ferry is a bad day. We have any idea where that is?”

“Down the coast and inland, I think.”

“That’s the last of the intact buildings in this quarter,” Walther said. “Next, I guess we search the piles of rubble.” He started toward a pile of charred stones, that might have been a building once upon a time. “Look at this, I’m the Duke of Rubbleville.”

Simon laughed a little and followed as well as his bad leg would allow. “Sure, the city could use some work...”

“I wouldn’t mind moving five miles down the coast and starting over.” He stopped for a moment and looked around at the piles of debris. “The walls are full of holes and the hoard, they just disappeared. That means they might come back. This place is totally indefensible.”

“You’re being a bit harsh.”

“You’re right. I could be the Admiral of a sunken fleet. That would be much better.” Walther kicked a stone out from a pile and a skinny rat scurried back deeper into the stone pile. He looked up at the sound of a rider coming their way. One of the guards was working to get his attention.

“Sir, we have an army coming at us from the North. It must be two hundred of them coming on foot.”

“I’ll be right there,” Walther said as he swung up into the saddle on his horse Lucky. “There are only a hundred of us. Looks like my tenure in the position of Duke might be mercifully short.”

Simon swung has bad leg up and onto his steed. “You aren’t that lucky.”




Walther and Simon joined their brothers at the North Gate. Duke Walther pointed to his left and spoke directly to the leaders of the two squads. “Sir Tancred, I want your guys on the wall, ready to fire. Sir Adrian, I want your guys at my back, securing the gate.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Adrian said as he gestured to his squad.

“That’s not going to get tiring,” Walther said as he shifted in his saddle. “Come on. Let’s get out there.” He rode out a few steps with his brothers at his side. Three of the approaching Saurians broke off from the mob and walked forward slowly. They came within twenty paces of the brothers and fell to their knees and bowed while speaking with a series of clicks and hisses. “Simon, what are they saying?”

“They are begging for sanctuary, milord,” Simon smiled.

Walther slung a leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground. He pulled a waterskin from the saddle horn and walked toward the three beggars. “I think these are women. I mean, female Saurians.”

Simon rode along beside Walther. “Now I know how you got the job. Eyes like an eagle.”

“What else are they saying?”

“They were driven from their homes by the, ah, mannish hoard up the coast.”

“That’s where Duke Melicter set up, right?”

“Yes. If you take them in, it will be trouble.”

Walther pulled the stopper out of the end of the waterskin and took a drink. “Tell them to get up.” The three women stood as he continued. “They will all have to work as best they can. They’ll need to help rebuild the walls and they will need to fish. If they do that they can have sanctuary here in Hiadron.”

“Are you sure you want me to translate that?”

“No,” Walther shrugged, “but a city needs people.”

Victor called out from behind the two men. “They outnumber us two to one.”

“And they are not armed. Get a good look. Maybe five people in this lot could fight if they had to. They must have been walking for days.” Walther handed the waterskin out to the reptilian woman in the center of the three.

She stepped forward slowly and took the waterskin from Walther. As Simon spoke, she watched the two men with dark lidless eyes. She tasted the water and drank a little before passing it on to her sister to the left. She spoke slowly in a series of hisses and clicks, eyeing Walther.

“She wants to know your name,” Simon said.

“Walther Harmonant. I’m the Duke of Hiadron.” He extended a hand to her, hoping it was a universally friendly sign.

She took his hand and they pumped their arms up and down for an uncomfortable moment.

"That's it then," Walther said as he walked back to his horse. He slung up into the saddle and wheeled his horse around. "Let's go find a good place for a Saurian Quarter."




“This place is as hot as Hell’s hinges,” Victor said as he set his dinner plate aside.

“You have an opinion about everything,” Oberon said.

“So. Am I not entitled to my opinion?” Victor started twirling his chin whiskers, warning the others of the coming debate.

Walther stood to get their attention and change the subject. “I’m loading my gear onto one of the ships tomorrow and sailing south. I’m headed for this little town of Lord’s Ferry that has some kind of threat hanging over it.”

Simon put his glass aside and spoke slowly. “To do that, you’ll have to go through Endoch. And that will require a state meeting.”

“No. I’ll just ride past it and explain later.”

“That’s just going to cause problems, Walther.”

“I do not care. And I am not going to be having another silver plate dinner while Lord’s Ferry is on fire.” He refilled his glass and sat back down.

Lukas pushed his plate away. “These guys can’t possibly hold the city by themselves.”

“The saurians will help.”

“Our troops do not trust them.” Lukas cracked his knuckles.

Walther laughed. “They went out to fish this afternoon and started working on the city walls. Feeding troops is a pretty good way to get trust.” He leaned forward and looked at the brothers one by one. “We could sit on this pile of stones or we could ride out and help the people of Lord’s Ferry. What do you say?”

One by one the other Harmonant brothers agreed.



-- by Bill