Lord Regor pulled his mind into the present. Clenching his jaws, he continued his march across the camp. 
First, he checked the latrine and bathing areas, located away from the living areas.

      Next, he inspected the cooking area. The workers there greeted him respectfully and then continued their work. Men turned spits threaded with slabs of meat from the grazers that lived in this region. He examined the rows of skinned armor-bearers on other spits. The tough, plated skins would be carried back to Fairhaven, where they would be made into suits of armor suitable for hand to hand combat. These were needed for the new knights.   

      On separate fires, workers stirred stews simmering in stoneware pots, and made flat breads on ceramic griddles. There was enough food here for the duration of the hunt. Good. The feast looked almost ready. Soon the fires must be put out.

      The smell of the cooking food made Lord Regor’s stomach churn and he felt nauseated. He turned and trotted away from the area.

      Lord Regor surveyed the perimeter defenses and headed for the medical tent. Everywhere he went, the empty space that Kiril once occupied followed him. Stepping inside the tent, Lord Regor found Dr. Olan directing the medical team as they set up equipment.

      Dr. Olan looked up. “We are almost ready, Your Grace.”

      “Did the artificial blood survive the trip?”

      Lord Regor had told Dr. Olan that the artificial blood should be packed with special care. On the hunt where Kiril was injured, the doctors did not bother checking inside every crate. Too late, they discovered the crushed container of artificial blood. All the blood had leaked away.

      “Yes, Your Grace,” replied Dr. Olan. “We have a large supply on hand.”

      “Very good.” Lord Regor was pleased that the extra precautions were successful. “Carry on.”

      He left the medical tent and continued his tour. At the supply depot, Lord Regor met his Minister of Construction, who was acting as Steward of the Hunt. Lord Gwinnett was organizing the last of the supplies into neat mounds, his blue eyes full of energy and his hands gesturing briskly.

      “Would you like to look at all this great equipment, Your Grace?” Lord Gwinnett pointed at the piles. When Lord Regor nodded, Lord Gwinnett led him through the straight isles. Workers carrying supplies gave way.

      “As you can see, I’ve organized and labeled everything. Here are boxes of spare laser rifles, and here are power packs, and there, grenades, and shells for the air ship guns, and pistols here.”

      As Lord Gwinnett strode along, Lord Regor had trouble keeping up with him. The Minister of Construction was happiest when he was moving.

      Lord Regor’s gaze fell on a row of tools hung from a frame. A saw was in front. Turning his head, Lord Regor smothered the memory of another saw, rasping mercilessly. 

      Lord Gwinnett showed Lord Regor the rest of the weapons, as well as the batteries and the fuel supplies. Stepping from behind the piled barrels, Lord Regor looked at the top of the vale and frowned. What was taking them so long? They were jeopardizing this hunt.

      The net teams still unrolled the first course of netting, tying it onto the stakes above the camp. The rest of the netting lay in six-foot piles beside the tents. At this pace, they would be working for hours.

      “I’ll see to it, Your Grace,” said Lord Gwinnett, noticing where Lord Regor was staring. “Do you want to see your dragon-hunter frigate?”

      “Yes, my lord.”

      Lord Regor headed towards the ship, which was white with his noble eagle killing the evil snake emblem on its sides. It had just arrived. 

      “As you can see, the armor plating has been stripped off the hull,” said Lord Gwinnett. “We’ve removed all the cannons and their ammunition. We mounted a small gun and put a few shells in the hold. Otherwise, we have removed most of the equipment. Also we did a few things to the outboard engines.

      “We tested this ship. It is now forty percent lighter and fifty percent faster.”

      “I am pleased with the ship and the camp,” said Lord Regor. “Carry on.”

      His eyes glowing, Lord Gwinnett straightened a bit. “Yes, Your Grace.”

      Turning, Lord Regor forced his feet towards the surveillance center. The dragon-hunter frigate was bringing back more memories.

      Kiril had lain motionless in a frigate as Lord Regor’s men flew him back to Fairhaven. A large bandage covered the stump of his arm.

      Dizzy from giving Kiril blood, Lord Regor lay beside his son. Even after other members of the hunt gave their blood, Kiril remained in a coma. The doctors had said his brain was without blood for too long.  

      Lord Regor reached the small tent near the depot. A snarling generator filled the area around the center with the stench of exhaust fumes. A balloon line hoisted an antenna into the sky. Pushing away the memories, he pulled the tent flap aside and stepped into the dim interior. Computers, video screens, other electronic equipment and all kinds of cables spread in chaotic order on a table. 

      “Do you have the target, Sir Zolenski?”

      “Yes, Your Grace.” The knight, leader of the computer and communications group, stood up and bowed.

      Sir Zolenski waved at a monitor on the table. “Would you care to see them, Your Grace.”

      Lord Regor sat down at the table and looked into the screen. The dragons were resting on a mesa east of the camp. Their brown and white hawk color blended surprisingly well with the rocks. As usual, they had not posted sentries.

      “Zoom in on them,” Lord Regor ordered.

      Sir Zolenski sat in the chair beside Lord Regor and moved the controls. “This cam drone is working well, unlike the first two in this batch.”

      The dragons on the monitor grew larger. Lord Regor counted the vermin, making sure they still were all there. Then he looked for the leader, the alpha female. She was lying at the edge of the cliff.

      Lord Regor noticed a dark, young male staring in the direction of the cam drone. The makers of these devices claimed they blended with the color of the sky, thus becoming nearly invisible. Did the dark male see the drone, or was this just a coincidence? He decided the male was lying so that its head was pointed towards the camera.

      Lord Regor looked at the whole flock. Since his petition to the higher power remained unanswered, the only choice he had left was revenge. Soon, he thought. For Kiril. 

© 2004 Cathy Brunson. All Rights Reserved.
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