A quick scout of the road through the town towards the mountains told Drekken that there were more Feras about, soldiers and drones. It also put a knot in his belly that was making him feel physically sick and it had nothing to do with being in a combat situation. This was not the first, nor the fiftieth time he had been in charge of civilians, that was not his problem, but he knew what was, even if he did not want to give in to it. As he came back into the sheltered little courtyard, his attention focused down on the slender blue-grey head that was peaking out of a sling around Malachi's torso and the knot undid just a little when he heard the baby's excited chirruping at his return.
Only years of discipline in the field stopped him from responding to instincts that were screaming at him to grab the dragon from her holder and the knot wound back up, but getting the group moving was his top priority. In his absence, the youths had grabbed a few supplies: coats, strong shoes and Yakov was carrying a satchel stuffed with what looked like random household items.
They were waiting in a huddled group with the hatchlings, their backs to Besthan and Drekken knew fear when he saw it. Yet, he didn't have the luxury of being sympathetic, so he walked up to them with authority and offered, "Good. Now, are they," he pointed to the hatchlings, "old enough to understand you, to take instruction?"
Yakov nodded and replied, "They just can't mind-talk yet."
"Tell them we are going into the mountains, but we have to be very quiet while we leave the town," Drekken directed.
"They can understand you as well, Drekken," Malachi looked like he was trying to smile, but the worry in his eyes won.
Drekken just nodded in response and started to turn back to the exit. However, his move was greeted by an increase in the volume of the newest hatchling's chattering.
"You need to keep her quiet," Drekken snapped more than he needed to, but mainly because the knot in his stomach was getting worse.
"She wants you," Yakov spoke up this time.
Drekken glared at him: he knew that.
"She needs you," Malachi backed up his friend.
"It's the only way she'll quiet down," Yakov pushed when Drekken said nothing and Malachi began lifting off the sling.
His fingers were itching to reach for the little bundle and his magic was swirling at the prospect of holding her again, but that was dangerous, he couldn't afford to be distracted, and Drekken resisted his urges, forcing them down. However, he didn't have the will power to back off when Malachi lifted the sling to him, and, embarrassed by his weakness, Drekken just stood silently as the improvised carrier was placed over his head and one arm. The chirruping stopped instantly, and as he felt the tiny body settle against his abs, the knot in his belly relaxed, but was replaced with consternation.
"Right, we move out, keep low and stay together. Do what I say when I tell you and we'll make it out of the village alive," Drekken hissed quickly at his charges.
The two young men nodded solemnly and Drekken turned to lead them out. It was a second or two after he did so that he realised his non-fire arm had found a comfortable position cradling the sling over his chest.