Page 36 of Winds of Death
“General Laesornysh!” A huffing clerk dashed between the crowd of pilots.
Dacha gave just the slightest sigh before he and Uncle Iyrinder strode after the clerk, headed back for headquarters and whatever crisis of paperwork awaited them.
With the higher-ups gone, everyone seemed to release a collective breath as shoulders sagged, postures relaxed, and grins returned.
Fieran pushed away from the aeroplane and clasped Lt. Rothilion’s shoulders. “Thank you for looking after the squadron.”
Lt. Rothilion dipped his head. “It is good to have you back, Captain.”
“Good to be back.” Fieran strode between his pilots, accepting the various back slaps as he passed. He jabbed a thumb at the line of new bomber aeroplanes. “My footlocker was loaded in the second seat of one of the bombers.”
“We’ll fetch it and see that it’s brought to your tent.” Several of the flyboys rushed off. Since it would only take one or two to tote the footlocker, Fieran wasn’t sure how all the others planned to assist.
Fieran passed the stack of his flight gear to another eager flyboy, who rushed away to put it in his tent as well.
As Fieran headed for the hangar, the rest of his squadron trailed after him as if they were ducklings who had lost their mother and they weren’t sure what to do about it. “What else did I miss?”
“You’ll need to get your name added to the waiting list for a gas mask.” Lije gestured at the strange contraption hanging from his belt. It was made of green canvas with glass goggles set in it and a canister over where a person’s mouth and nose would be. “It protects against chlorine gas. That’s the chemical the Mongavarians unleashed the day you crashed.”
“The army requisitioned as many gas masks as they could from factories, but there’s still a shortage.” Pretty Face grimaced as he motioned at his own, rather empty belt.
“It hasn’t been too much of a problem.” Stickyfingers, too, lacked a gas mask on his belt. “Thanks to King Weylind and some of the other elves. And there haven’t been too many gas attacks yet. Your dacha has seen to that.”
Fieran made a mental note to check in with the weapons supply sergeant after he reported to Colonel Dentley. “Anything else I should know?”
“Little Aldon is in the process of disbanding.” Aylia caught up with them and gestured in that general direction. “The army will only provide gas masks for military personnel. Right now, the danger is somewhat negligible, given that King Weylind is here and able to shield the base from chemical attacks. But the army no longer wishes to be responsible for civilian safety.”
“It’s made things rather dead boring.” Pretty Face heaved a sigh as he grimaced. “There’s very little to do on days when we don’t have a patrol.”
“Are most of them setting up shop outside of base?” Fieran tilted his head toward the west, farther into Escarland.
“Yes. It’s calling itself Defense City.” Stickyfingers shot a look toward Tiny of all people.
“It is not so easy to simply walk there, even when leave is given.” Lt. Rothilion did not sound too disappointed by that. After all, he had not been so enamored with the entertainments offered in Little Aldon.
This would change the feel of the base. It was truly becoming a military operation with the defense complex locked down.
He’d only been gone a little over two weeks. And yet it seemed like far longer had passed, given all the changes.
Lije grinned and also shot a look at Tiny, who had dropped to the back of the group. “Not that the long walk has stopped Tiny.”
“Yeah, he and the donut girl—” Pretty Face started to say something, but Tiny swung a punch at him. Pretty Face dodged with a yelp, his hands going to his face. “Not the nose!”
Tiny rolled his eyes. “Don’t say stuff that deserves a punch.”
“I wasn’t going to, this time! Besides, I can’t help it if I’m leery of getting hit in the face.” Pretty Face gestured at his own face before he sent a smirk Fieran’s way. “After all, I have it on good authority that I have a rather nice nose.”
Fieran groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Don’t tell me. I made some comment while drugged.”
Seriously, someone should have stuffed a gag in his mouth. He struggled to filter his words when he was fully aware of what he was doing. Apparently he had absolutely no filter when drugged out of his mind.
Pretty Face smirked and tapped the side of his nose. “You’ve apparently always liked my nose.”
Fieran groaned again and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s get back to Tiny and this girl in Little Aldon…”
That sounded like a much better topic than whatever Fieran might have blurted or, worse, sung while he’d been out of his head.
“Well, after your crash and you were sent home, we went into Little Aldon…” Lije trailed off, a sadness in his eyes.
