Alta (43 page)

“But the senior Jousters—” Huras said worriedly.

“Exactly. Meanwhile—we go out, day after day, and we are becoming exhausted. At some point, not even your clever new tactics will save us.” Lord Khumun grimaced. “There is no doubt that you are right; the Magi will permit no rival for their power to exist. They have been trying very hard to eliminate us. And I had rather see the dragons gone than watch my men die for no good reason.”

Kiron let out the breath he had been holding. “Then, my Lord, the best thing for you is this. If you can, if you have thieves that can get into the Tian Jousters’ Compound, send men to seize as much
tala
as you can. It is better for us to have it than the Tians, and the more of the old, untainted
tala
we have, the better for us. And then, let us do this thing that we have spoken of without your knowledge, for what we do without your knowledge you cannot be held accountable for.”

Lord Khumun looked as if he was about to protest, then stopped. “From the mouths of babes comes wisdom,” he muttered, then turned and vanished into the darkness.

“So, tell us,” Kiron continued, turning to Aket-ten.

“It is a disease, which puts no outward sign upon the plant, save only a bit of bloom upon the berry when it is still unripe, which is gone when it is dried. Heklatis used his magic to find it, and his knowledge of Healing and herbs swiftly told him what it did. The disease spreads by a dust made from the bloom itself, and we can use magic to make much, much more of it from the bit that we have.” She looked rather pleased with herself. Kiron didn’t blame her. “What is more, I thought of a way to spread it, quickly. When the rains begin, a dragon or two can climb above the clouds with baskets of the dust, and let them loose upon the winds. The dust will be carried into Tia, and brought down to earth with the rains.”

“And the Magi, who have made the winds to be so much greater than they used to be, will be the ones to carry the blight!” Gan slapped his leg with glee. “By all the gods, Aket-ten, this is choice!”

She smiled with grim pleasure. “We, who have truly tame dragons, will be the only ones whose dragons still behave, and I will leave it to you to think how that can be useful. But I believe that the wild-caught dragons will actually obey for some time out of habit—and at any rate, if we successfully take a stockpile of undiseased Tian
tala,
we will be able to keep our dragons under control longer.”

“We should reckon on not getting any,” Kiron warned. “Unless we can seize raw berries before they get to the Tian compound, I doubt that we will be able to get any. If Lord Khumun has agents who are also thieves, maybe—it is not at all guarded—but the odds are long.”

“Then our
tala
and theirs will run out about the same time.” She sighed. “Still. Our Jousters will know that their dragons are going to go wild, but the Tians will not, and they may miss the signs. So perhaps
our
task should be to sting the Tian dragons into their own rebellion on the very day when the last of the
tala
is gone from their bodies. And with foreknowledge that it will happen, our Jousters can release their dragons, or allow them to slip their chains, or something of the sort. Or even take them out, and when they begin to get restive, land them behind our lines and turn them loose.” She shrugged. “The Magi will contribute nothing to the war once the Jousters are gone, unless they create another Eye of Light that can be taken to the enemy.”

“I do not think they can,” Heklatis said broodingly. “Which is just as well for all of us, of course.”

Recalling the carnage that the Eye had caused, Kiron shuddered. “More than just as well,” he replied. “I am not so sure but that it would not be better for Alta if the thing were destroyed.”

“There are those on the Second Ring who would agree with you,” said Heklatis, and left it at that.

There really was not much else to be said after that. Heklatis and Aket-ten reckoned that it would take until the start of the rains to produce a sufficiency of the dust to infect the
tala
plants.

And then Aket-ten produced another little surprise for them. “I will borrow a swamp dragon and take her up to release the dust in the clouds above the storms—” she began, casually.

“Hoi!” he said sharply. “What do you mean,
you
will borrow a swamp dragon? You’ve never flown any dragon but Re-eth-ke!”

“I can control any dragon in the compound,” she retorted. “Re-eth-ke is too young to take into a storm, and at any rate, she would hate flying in rain and storm, but there isn’t a dragon in this compound who won’t fly for me. I’ll take one of the oldest and canniest.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” he replied hotly. “If anybody goes flying with that dust of yours, it will be
me.
”

“On what dragon?” she shot back. “Not even Avatre will fly in the kind of hell the Magi have been creating on the first day of the rains, and rightly. The swamp dragons know storms. They can read them the way desert dragons read thermals! But they won’t fly for you, not into a storm they won’t. On a day of ordinary rains, yes, but not into a Magus-bred storm.”

“She has you there,” Heklatis said, with what Kiron considered to be an annoying level of calm detachment.

“And just what would Lord Ya-tiren have to say to me if I allowed you—” he began, and the moment the words were out of his mouth, he knew that they were a mistake, but it was too late to call them back.

“If you
allowed?
” she snarled, getting to her feet, her eyes blazing fury at him. “If you
allowed?
Just who and what are you, Wingleader Kiron, to say what I shall and shall not be
allowed
to do? I am responsible to no one but
myself
for my actions and—”

“And Lord Ya-tiren would certainly hold Kiron responsible should any accident take place, regardless of that, Aket-ten,” Heklatis said reasonably. “And while it is true that Avatre would balk at carrying him above the heart of the storm, and that none of the swamp dragons would carry him on their own either, if you were to talk to one of them, you could persuade it to accompany you and your mount. Couldn’t you?”

The Healer looked into both their angry faces and smiled. “I suggest a compromise. Two swamp dragons, to carry you, Aket-ten, and you, Kiron. I should not approve myself of either of you going up alone in any case. It will be dangerous, flying under those conditions. It would be better to have a partner. Don’t you both agree?”

Even though the very idea of Aket-ten flying under those very conditions appalled him, Kiron swallowed, and nodded. Reluctantly, Aket-ten did the same.

“Good,” Heklatis said. “I thought you would both be sensible. Now, we need to think of an excuse to send you both up under those conditions. People might well ask, you know. It will do no one any good for you to excite curiosity. The Magi may notice. Others will notice. So why would two Jousters be flying at the height of a storm?”

They all exchanged a look, and Aket-ten reluctantly sat down again. “I can’t think of anything,” Kiron admitted.

“Nor I,” said Oset-re, usually so quick-witted.

“Well, we needn’t think of one immediately,” Aket-ten pointed out. “We have some few days yet. But we had better find one before then, and make sure it’s sound.”

“And on that note, I will take my leave,” said Heklatis, and smiled, but this time grimly. “Lord Khumun is right about one thing; his Jousters are being flung into the fray without any regard for how exhausted they are becoming. I’ve been seeing injuries, and I expect to see more, and worse, tomorrow and each succeeding day. Good night, young friends, and remember that the worst thing that the enemy can do to us is set us at each others’ throats.”

He sauntered off into the darkness, as they stared after him. Finally it was Marit that broke the silence.

“I wonder which enemy he meant?” she mused aloud. “The Tians—or the Magi?”

Aket-ten still had not forgiven him by the next day; she glared at him every time he saw her, and it made him half crazy. He had agreed that she should go up, so what more did she want from him? It was horribly unfair, too, when all he had been trying to do was to protect her!

He said as much, crossly, to her brother, as they both unharnessed their dragons in the landing courtyard after a long, hard practice. With cooperative dragons it was easier to do it
here,
where their dragon boys could take the gear to a room just off the court for cleaning and mending. Having tame dragons was making for a lot of changes, most of which made the dragon boys’ jobs easier. Orest looked at him as if he really was crazy. “Honestly, I thought you were smarter than that,” he retorted, handing the neck reins to the boy to be taken away. “The last thing my sister wants is someone to protect her!”

Kiron blinked, and paused while he handed over his own kit. “But—” he said, finally, bewildered, “That day in the temple, when she came running at me—”

“Oh, yes, you would take the one time she was out of her depth and scared to death as the measure of how she is normally,” Orest replied, with a laugh. “No, really,
think,
would you? When, other than that, has she ever run out of danger looking for someone to protect her from it? Not her! Oh, no, she runs straight
into
danger, every time! If she wanted someone to protect her, do you think she’d have come
here?
Think about it, think of the options available to the daughter of Lord Ya-tiren!”

Kiron did, pausing with one hand on Avatre’s shoulder, and swiftly realized that if Aket-ten had wanted a protector, she could have found one virtually anywhere. She could have married some powerful lord; she could have gone to that aunt who lived past the Sixth Canal. She could have gotten herself made into a priestess of some temple other than that of the Twins. Hamun or Abydesus, for instance, or Hathen. The temples to those gods were all far from Alta City, out in the delta.

For that matter, she could have gotten herself married to some merchant prince, an Akkadian, or a tin merchant from Thyres, and taken far away from Alta. An Akkadian would have treated her with awe, as a Winged One, and a husband from Thyres, while not understanding in the least what a Winged One was, would have made her his full partner in his business, as was the Thyresian way. She would have been taken to a life of luxury or adventure—or, in the case of a Thyresian, perhaps both.

No, her brother was right. She didn’t want protecting. And under most circumstances she wouldn’t need protecting either.

“Not that I’m faulting you,” Orest continued. “Nothing like. Aket-ten was an idiot to think she could ride a dragon up into a storm without having someone along in case something went wrong. And honestly, if you think you dare risk Avatre in all those down- and updrafts, I think you ought to take
her,
not some swamp dragon. That trick of yours of catching a falling rider—well, that would make
me
feel better about her going up there in that sort of a tempest.” He shook his head. “I have to tell you, she’s like to drive me mad, sometimes. Give me a proper girl like Marit. One that knows her limits!”

“I’m not going to apologize for wanting to protect her!” Kiron protested hotly.

“I’m not saying you should. Just don’t make the same mistake in the future,” Orest replied. “Or if you do, don’t be surprised when she bites your head off.”

He patted Wastet’s bright blue shoulder, and led him off to the pens, leaving Kiron staring after him.

Finally Kiron shook his head and went back to his own work—in this case, taking Avatre for her sand bath.

He thought about what Orest had said while he worked the sand over his beloved until she gleamed, every gold scale burnished like the Gold of Honor, every scarlet scale gleaming like a sacred jewel. And he couldn’t help but notice that she was a
lot
bigger. Nearly full grown, in fact. If anyone got a good look at her, not just glimpsed from the ground, they could be forgiven for wondering why the two of them weren’t out fighting with the rest of the Jousters, and never mind that
he
didn’t think they were more than half trained.

Well, that was another good reason for practicing so far away from the usual practice grounds.

So Orest thought that his sister believed that she’d had her independence and self-reliance questioned? On one level, it made sense, for other than that one time, she’d never looked for help from him, or from anyone else as far as he knew. Well, look at how he’d met her in the first place! Any other girl who’d been told to go look for a fish in the marshes where the river horses and crocodiles were would have gone straight to her father or one of her teachers to complain! But not Aket-ten, no, she had gone right out into the swamp with only a servant, and if her brother hadn’t intercepted her and gone along, she would have been completely alone out there.

Which, of course, on another level made no sense at all, since she was a lot older than that girl who’d gone to the marshes, she’d had a lot of experience in where her bull-headed stubbornness would take her, and you would have thought she’d have learned better by now. She
had
been flying, she
knew
how tricky the winds and thermals could get even without any weather to complicate them, so how could she possibly think she was capable of flying a strange dragon into the teeth of the storm? That wasn’t being brave and capable, that was being foolhardy!