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    The wastes are a hard school to learn in.  Nomads honour their
elders, not out of some misplaced tradition, carried on by the same
elders, but for a more basic reason.  When lessons failed often end in
death one learns to pay attention to those who have survived each and
every lesson the wastes have to give.  In the cities gaining old age may
be a common achievement but for those in a more harsh environment it is
not a matter of keeping well but of learning and adapting.
 
    Bright eyes enfolded by more wrinkles than can be imagined looked out
of the nomad village and into the distance.  Wraiths pulsed forward and
back, as if connected by some common tether.  She knew it was not natural
and unnatural was never a good thing, when it came to wraiths.  The men
had gone to fight and left the women, children, and the elderly behind,
'safe' in the village.  But she knew there was never, ever, such a thing
as 'safe'.
 
    Then it happened.  The tether that held them together snapped. 
Whatever had bound the wraiths to a single task had been lost and now
they moved in a more recognizable way.  A more deadly way as well.  They
dispersed but some turned towards the nomads village.  And this time
there might be no escape.  She looked about but all the ridable animals
had been taken by the men.  There was not enough combustibles to build a
fire wall.  But one does not grow old in the wastes by listing what
cannot be done, one finds what is still possible.
 
    Turning she spoke to the younger women behind her.  "Get the shovels
and start digging.  We will need to hide in the old ways."
 
    'But you said they can sense life through the soil."  One asked,
already moving to obey.
 
    "If they get close enough, yes, we will lose many.  But some will
survive.  We dig our graves to avoid needing them."  She nodded and
gestured to the village, "Gather the others, we haven't much time."
 
    So in the soft pack dirt around the nomad encampment the digging
began.  Often they would pause to look up at the dispersing cloud of
wraiths and then they would return to the task with more vigor.  Distant
jets of dragon flames showed that the wraiths were not moving unopposed. 
But the flames did not seem to lessen the strength of the wraith cloud
nor turn it  from any path that it had chosen.
 
    "I hear them coming!"  Shrieked a youngster, scratching even faster
in the dirt with a pointed stick.
 
    "Fool, wraith are silent.  Something else comes."  The old woman only
spared a moment for a glance at the nearby ridge before returning to
digging.  A second glance did give her pause as a huge grey-green dragon
crested the ridge running faster than anything else she had ever seen on
land.  It swerved as its rider pointed towards the diggers and bore down
on them like a living avalanche of flesh.  Amazingly it stopped throwing
up a huge gout of sand and dust and its rider jumped down at a flat run
to the group of nomads.
 
    "Wraith."  He panted.  "Must . . . must . . . wash?  No, Must flee." 
His accent was horrible but he managed to get the message across.
 
    "How?"  She pointed at the crowd of women and children and back at
the single dragon.  "Who?"  Then she answered her own question by
bringing forth a woman heavy with child.
 
    "No!  . . .I mean yes,  . . . .all go"  He pointed to the ridge.  "My
family comes."
 
    "Dragonraidah?" 
 
    He shook his head and smiled.  "No.  Horseraidah."  As though saying
the named summoned them his brother, then the herd, crested the same hill
and came pouring down towards them.  His father  and other brothers rode
at the back, keeping the horses moving well and keeping a careful eye on
the horizon.
 
    Brons leapt from his horse as it reared to a stop, not even missing a
beat.  "Mount them all, wise one.  We will take you to a place of
safety."  His accent was harsh, that of a southern tribe.
 
    Another survival skill is knowing when to talk and when to move. 
This was the time to move.  She grabbed a passing horse and drew herself
up onto its bare back.  "They will take us to safety, mount now."  The
horseraidah and the dragonraidah assisted all up onto horses and ponies. 
The older ones held the youngest in front of them. 
 
    The pregnant woman still stood before the dragon who looked down on
her with large soft eyes of grey.  The Dragonraidah took her to another
horse and lifted her up onto it without seeming to exert himself.  "No,
lady, he is for . . . fighting, not  . . . carry."
 
    The dragon watched the exchange solemnly and the looked to the large
man who rode it.  He laughed and spoke to it in the dragonraidah tongue. 
"No she does not eat more than you, she is going to have a baby."  There
was a pause and then. "Yes kind of like eggs only . . . .oh can we talk
about this another time?" 
 
    When all were on the horses the brothers and father consulted before
the dragon sprang to the front and started towards the distant caves. 
The others encircled the rescuees and all watched the perimeter for
wraith sign.  It was the old woman's bright eyes that saw it first.  She
whistled a shrill note and the call was carried from the outriders to the
dragon who spun in place so fast it seemed that he ignored the basic
rules of momentum.
 
    A swift pass and a gout of flame ended the first threat but it caused
a greater one.  A larger group of wraiths broke off and headed for the
herd, some moving forward to intercept and others circled around to
strike once the group had slowed.  Not a sign of true intelligence, just
the evil malevolence of a hunting pack.  The dragonraidah, Nikol, looked
back to his father who made a few swift hand gestures, broad enough to be
clear but sharp enough to carry a swift message.  Nikol nodded once and
turning he and the dragon shot forward to meet the intercepting force
while his father swung around to the back of the herd, drawing his riding
crop and whistling it over his head.  The old woman wondered at this
foolish man, did he not know that normal weapons would have no effect on
the wraiths?
 
    He did.
 
    He also knew what would have to be done to slow down the pursuit. 
They needed to be distracted.  Uncontrolled wraiths would take the easy
meal over the hard . . . it was his job to provide the easy.  A nudge of
his knees cut him across the back of the herd, taking a few of the slower
beast, riderless ones, out of the herd and turning them back.  "Sorry,
but they need life more than you, my lovelies."  He whispered, half to
himself and half to the horses before him.  "Please, Lord, make it swift
for them."  The last was to the Horse Lord that most of Nikols family
worshipped.
 
<<nrpg>>
The religious aspect of this is from the viewpoint of the participants. 
I will not be drawn into a discussion of supreme beings in this realm . .
. but for the record, they aren't so sure about you, either.
<<rpg>>
 
    He wiped his eyes once with the back of his hand then leaned way out
of the saddle to the unthinkable, for a horse master.  A swift whistling
chop of the crop across the hamstrings of the running horse brought it
up, screaming in pain.  He swayed from one side to the other, cutting and
slashing driving the horses from him in a frenzy of pain, most of it
focussed in their legs.  All the beasts could think about was to escape
this sudden traitor in their midst.  And so they ran, straight for the
wraiths.  Nikols Da swung about and raced to catch up with the rest of
the herd.  Unsuccessfully he tried to ignore the screams as the horses
met the wraiths.
 
    The slow down was not as much as he hoped.  Twice more he had to cut
a few from the herd and send them to their deaths.  As he rode he crossed
great char marks on the soil showing that his son was also fighting to
protect the group. 
 
    Nikol felt guilty.  Azurbull was doing all the fighting, Nikol was
just a weight and extra pair of eyes.  Oh yes, and a large bundle of
fears and worries.  *We have a problem*  Azurbull's 'voice' was almost
prenaturally calm.
 
    "What is the problem?  Aside from the obvious ones."  Nikol yelled
the words, though he knew he did not have to he still did in times of
stress.
 
    *I feel myself coming to the end of my flames.  Other dragons would
go back to the warren and eat more coal but to do that we need to be . .
. to be . . . a distance from the ground.*
 
    In flight.  The _one_ thing that Azurbull could not do had now grown
to be two.  Two very important skills in a dragon and Azurbull could not
do one and thus was stopped from attempting the other.  "How much have
you got left?"
 
    *I do not know.  A few full blasts, but not many.*
 
    "Call to the others, see if anyone can drop us some that we can take
here."  He cast an eye to the caves, now not so distant and then back to
the dwindling herd behind him.  "This is going to be very tight."
 
    *I am sure the wraiths feel the same way.*
 
    "Are there any nearby that could help?"  Nikol scanned the skies
swiftly before bringing his eyes back to sweeping for wraith at ground
level.
 
    *Most are fighting the main body, we are only a minor encounter in
this battle.*
 
    Nikol jerked his thumb behind him.  "_They_ don't think so."
 
    *Nor do I.  I am hungry.*
 
    "You are always hungry.  How can you think of food at a time like
this?"  Nikol spotted a wraith swooping down on the herd from above and
bellowed an inarticualte warning.  The dragon beneath him spun and leapt
staight over the herd, which thundered along beneath.  When the distance
had closed to far closer than Nikol had ever been to a wraith a tight
small burst of flame destroyed it.
 
    *Get closer, we can have more shots that way.  And I think of food
now as there may not be a later.*  The voice sounded almost petulant. 
They landed on the far side of the herd and swerved to move to the front
again.
 
    Nikol felt more guilt and leaned forward to stroke Azurbulls neck. 
His pack rolled up onto his shoulders and he shrugged it back into place.
. .
 
     . . .
 
            and shrugged again, to be sure the pack was still there. 
"umm"
 
    *I think now would be a good time to see what is in there, lunch or
your tools, either would be good.* 
 
    The pack swung around heavily and opened to show the tools of a
blasters trade.  "Do you have enough flame left to take out the lead
element?"
 
    *Probably, but I will have nothing left for those whom your father
has been feeding.*
 
    "I'll take care of their dessert.  You just give us a clear path to
the caves."  Nikol whistled a high clear note and caught the eyes of his
brethren and father.  His arm motions were short and direct but they had
learnd this language long ago.  They nodded their agreement but Nikol
could see the worry in their eyes and it did nothing but mirror that
which was in his own heart.  "Be carefull and I will see you in a bit."
 
    *If there is not a spark.*  The dragon returned with the blasters
joke.
 
    It was what Nikol needed as he finished with the pack and slid off of
the dragon and onto the ground. He was tucked in a tight ball and rolled
a ways before coming to a halt.  He stayed still as the herd thundered
around him trusting the horses dislike of stepping on people and the
riding skills of the nomads to protect him.  Faces flashed by, some
shocked to see him on the ground, others more focussed on the caves
ahead.  Bright eyes in a wrinkled face blurred by but they focussed on
him for a moment and a smile of good luck added ven more wrinkles.
 
    Then he was clear.  He held the slow match to the pair of fuses that
stuck from the top of the pack and waited.  His father was riding right
at him and he breathed out slowly as the horse charged.  Beyond his
father, not far beyond, came the chasing wraiths.  Taking a deep breath
he touched the match to the fuses and started swinging the pack in a
great circle.  Then he let it go and it flew up and over his father who
was leaning out of the saddle with one arm extended.  Hands impacted
forearms and his shoulder almost seperated from the rest of him but he
spun and jumped as he had been taught and he was sitting behind his
father on the horse.
 
    He looked ahead beyond the herd, trying to see through the dust but
all he could make out was flames, he did not dare interupt his dragon in
midbattle so he worried.  But a little part of him was counting seconds
so he was not surprised when the fireball lit behind him.
 
    The wraiths were.
 
<<nrpg>>
 
OK, Azurbull will need help plowing the way and/or coal delivery
I left the explosion unfinished as the rescuers may want to add their own
piece and that may need some still behind us.
 
DO NOT take me back to the warren, I want to find my own way back for
that, please.
 
mike--->what do you get when you cross the tasmanian devil with a
chicken?
                                                                             
                                                                my
daughters doing an indoor easter egg hunt


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