The Dragons of Argonath (26 page)

"Certainly," agreed Tommaso, more readily than he might have in the past. "Room will have to be found in the budget, somehow."

"And Aubinas will have to accept its place within the state."

"Ah, Aubinas," said Tommaso with a weary sigh.

"The Aubinans are saying they will fight for the right to be independent," said another man, sitting to Iapetor's right.

"So I hear, Cousin Marko, so I hear," Tommaso sounded sad.

"We cannot let them go. I do not think it is the Aubinan people who want it, only the grain magnates."

Iapetor grunted agreement. "Once the Aubinans wake up and find themselves at the mercy of that bunch of bloodsuckers, they will rue the day they cried for this so-called 'freedom' of theirs."

"Well, they won't be allowed to leave. I hear there are regiments on the march from Kenor, even as we speak."

Relkin was a little shocked to hear such a thing spoken of so openly. Tommaso frowned at Marko, and that dampened the conversation. Relkin wondered what regiments they would be.

Young Cousin Rozerto, who had grown since last Relkin had seen him and was wearing the uniform of an apprentice seaman, was sitting just a few places farther down. He took the opportunity of the silence to ask Relkin the question that had been burning in his brain.

"I have heard that there are beasts roaming the interior of Eigo that are so large they could eat dragons. Is that really true, Dragoneer Relkin?"

Relkin was glad to shift away from dangerous talk about the movements of regiments in these tense times.

"Yes, Rozerto, it is. There are many kinds of huge creatures there, and while the biggest do not eat other animals, they are still dangerous enough. Then, there are the meat eaters; there are lots of them, and some of them are three times the weight of a leatherback."

"Did they try and eat your dragon?"

Relkin chuckled. "They tried to eat me! We had a lot of trouble with them. They're the most dangerous animals in the world."

"Oh, how I wish I could see these animals. What were they like?"

All eyes were on Relkin.

"Well, the very biggest are called 'shmunga' by the Ardu people, who live in those ancient forests. Shmunga walk on four legs that look like pillars. They have long necks and very long tails, which they use to protect themselves."

"That doesn't sound so fearsome!" said Rozerto.

"Imagine a whip thirty feet long and as thick at the end as your forearm. With those tails they can smash the heads of the biggest meat eaters like they were eggshells."

Eyes had gone wide all around him.

"May the Mother preserve us," said Lacustra Tarcho.

"Did you have to fight with these things?" said Eilsa, wonder and concern mixed in her eyes.

"Fight them? No, there's no way to fight something that big. Baz and me made the mistake of trying to kill a young one once."

"Oh, my."

"We were starving, you see, but it came to nothing once its elders spotted us. We had to run for our lives."

"Well, well," said Iapetor. "Creatures that can make a battledragon take to its heels. Sounds like we should round some up for the legions!"

There was a genial murmur of laughter. Relkin smiled.

"I'm afraid they wouldn't really do. Their brains are tiny and they probably wouldn't cooperate too well."

"And if they're anything like dragons, they'd take a lot of feeding!" chuckled Tommaso.

They were interrupted by the arrival of the youngest children, with the nanny, come to say good night before going off to bed. Among these children was Laminna, daughter of Lagdalen and Hollein Kesepton. Now she was a proper little girl with excellent manners. She curtsied to Relkin and Eilsa, and bade them good night most precociously.

"Are you the dragonboy my mother told me about?"

"It's possible. I hope she told you good things."

"She said you were a rascal."

"Oh, well, then, she was right."

There was laughter all around them as Nanny swept the children away and off to the nursery.

Later there was more dancing and a round of singing over pots of mulled ale. Then at last the party came to an end. Relkin walked with Eilsa and her chaperon to the house on Foluran Hill where they were staying.

On the step they said their good-byes, all the while under the disapproving glare of Aunt Kiri just a few steps away.

"Good night, Relkin, that was such a lovely time."

"Good night, Eilsa, sleep well." Relkin ducked his head and kissed her lightly on the lips. Aunt Kiri gasped.

"Oh, Relkin, that will only cause trouble."

"Ah, yes, I know. One day, though, we'll be free to kiss as much as we like."

"I live for that day."

"I too."

He strolled back up Tower Street, made his way to the Dragon House, and tucked himself into his cot beside the great mass of the wyvern. As he was drifting off to sleep, he caught a large eye gleaming in the dark as it studied him.

"Good night, Baz."

"Boy smell of perfume and beer. Dream of fertilizing the eggs."

"Only dreams."

"That good thing. We don't need any hatchlings in the Dragon House."

Under the rain Marneri was a glistening warren of white stone, overhung by grey cloud. The gutters were filled with torrents of water, and on Tower Street they overflowed in several places and turned the street into a shallow stream.

Lanterns were lit inside the Tower of Guard, even though it was the middle of the day.

Relkin was back in the room with Bell and Selera.

"Tell us what you thought you were trying to do, again."

It was exasperating. He had told them a dozen times, perhaps more. He'd lost count.

"I thought that perhaps I could somehow reach out to them up in the camp and get them the message that we needed help pretty bad. You know, make them hurry. You see, the messenger we'd sent had been killed, and we didn't have much time left. There were just too many of the enemy."

"How exactly did you think you could reach out to them?"

"I don't know. I just found a way."

"Describe exactly the mental processes involved. What did you do to 'reach out'?"

Relkin tried, but it was so hard, especially since he didn't really know what he'd done in the first place. His explanations were never enough for them: they always wanted more. So he struggled to express the ineffable while the witches questioned him over and over about the same things.

At last they decided to call it a day, and he was released into the public area of the tower. He pulled on his freecoat and made his way through the downpour to the Dragon House.

Bazil was in the stall. Relkin hurried in, pulled off his dripping coat, and hung it to dry in the corner.

"Raining again," grunted the dragon. "It is raining a lot."

"Seems so. I think we could take the stitches out today. What do you think?"

"This dragon agrees. They itch. That usual sign that they should come out."

Relkin lit a second lamp and hung it over the dragon. Then he brought out his tool kit and set out small scissors, a sharp knife, and two pairs of tweezers, one with long tines and one with short.

The wound had healed quickly. There would be a scar, yet another on the leatherback's hide, which already had plenty of them, but there had been no infection or inflammation. Relkin bent to his task, snipping each section and then pulling them free with the tweezers. Piece by piece they came out and were laid aside for disposal until the job was done. He treated the wound with Old Sugustus once more, just in case, and packed up his kit.

Bazil got up and moved his limbs, stretching carefully.

"Feels good. Healed, I think."

"You heal well, Bazil, just like you always did."

"Thanks to boy, you help this dragon always."

"Sure."

Relkin's hand and a big talon gripped for a moment.

"This dragon go down to plunge pool." The leatherback went out, leaving Relkin to go over the kit and consider what further extras he might try to obtain for the arduous winter ahead in Axoxo.

Just then little Jak came running in.

"News, Relkin, the news!"

"What is it? We're to ship out?"

Everyone had been wondering if they were to embark on the white ship
Oat
that was sitting in Marneri harbor looking huge and beautiful.

"No, the trial. They brought in a verdict today. Glaves was found guilty."

"Oh, that. Again. I hope this will be an end of it. I'm tired of this trial."

"The Aubinans are demonstrating in the street outside the courthouse."

"In this rain? Let them."

"It's pretty serious. Curf says they sent the guard from the tower down there to protect the courthouse."

Relkin shrugged. "The guard will be glad of a chance to whack some heads. Nobody loves the Aubinans these days."

Swane and Rakama came in a moment later. The two bully boys of the 109th had become something like bosom buddies since the Battle of Quosh. Their rivalry, at least for the moment, was forgotten.

"Heard about the riot?" said Rakama.

"Yes."

"Guards are going down the hill. Gonna bust some heads."

"About time somebody knocked some sense into those Aubinans,'" said Swane.

"Well, Glaves is guilty. This time he's got to hang," commented Jak.

"I'll leave that up to the judge. She'll know best what his punishment should be."

"Hey, listen to the Quoshite, wants to leave it all to the judge."

"And you know better than the judge, right, Swane?"

Jak laughed loudly at this, and Swane shot him a fierce look.

"Anyway," said Rakama. "Someone's just delivered a monster great fish pie for the dragons."

"What's that, a subscription pie?" These were usually huge fish pies paid for by a group of merchants or a fraternal organization of tradesmen and donated to the Dragon House.

"Right."

"Who's it from this time?" The dragons had had a few of these gifts in the past weeks.

"It says 'The Independent Grain Traders Association, in gratitude for the prompt action that saved the village of Quosh and protected the life of the emperor.' "

"Never heard of them, but at least they're grateful."

"Gratitude is better than nothing."

"The dragons will like a pie."

"Right," said Swane. "Well, Rak and me was thinking that maybe we should all go in and buy them a barrel or two."

"By the Hand, that'll have them singing late," said Jak.

"That's a good idea," agreed Relkin. "I'm in."

"The brew master at the Curly Pig just released his Bock beer."

"It's a bit expensive."

"Worth it. Where we're going, there ain't gonna be much beer of any kind, let alone a Bock."

"How much do you think we can get?" wondered Rakama.

"Well, we need a full tun. We can't get our dragons beer and not get some for the resident wyverns too."

"And all their dragonboys," grumbled Swane.

"That don't matter," said Relkin. "They don't drink as much as one dragon anyway. But we need a full tun."

"Everyone has to dig deep in his reserves, then," said Jak.

"Right," said Relkin. "Only way, but maybe our only chance, so let's do it."

"We'll tell the others," said Rakama. "Everyone will chip in now that Relkin's in."

They all knew this to be the honest truth. Relkin was the unspoken leader of the dragonboys in the unit.

Not long afterward Swane, Rakama, and Jak made their way down to Brundle Street, on the edge of the Elf Quarter, where they negotiated a very good price for a full tun of the newly released Bock beer. A dray was loaded up with the big cask and pulled by four grey horses as it made its way up the street through the pouring rain and to the Dragon House.

Within the hour the dragons of the 109th were digging into the sea pie from the Grain Association while the tun was put in place, broached, and ale was trundled out to the wyverns in four-gallon buckets. The pie was pronounced delicious by all except the Purple Green, who still consumed every scrap that came his way. The Bock was a favorite brew with the wyverns, and they were soon well into the second pail when the singing was starting. The strange mind-set of the dragon choir took over, and their huge voices were in full song, threatening to lift the ceiling of the Dragon House.

The dragon voices could be heard all over the upper half of the city, echoing across the parade ground in front of the Tower of Guard and down Tower Street. In the cells in the Barbican, where former Commander Porteous Glaves paced, the song of the wyverns only increased the level of tension. Damned monstrous animals, why couldn't they shut up! Glaves had no love for the brutes. They ate the legions out of their pockets, and they sat around the Dragon Houses drinking ale. He was damned if he should have to pay for it.

Glaves, convicted and imprisoned at last for his mutiny in Ourdh, waited impatiently for the signal. The government had gone too far! This time Aubinas would rise. How he thirsted to pay them back, all of these noble bloods in Marneri. They thought they were so much better than the farmers and grain merchants down in Aubinas. Why, half of them wouldn't even receive someone like Porteous Glaves, and yet his family was just as old as theirs. They looked down on him, and they harried him with this awful case. Of course he was guilty, but there were extenuating circumstances. The entire campaign in Ourdh had been waged in a suicidal manner! The siege was close to lost, and everyone was doomed! It really looked like a case of every man for himself. Except these ridiculous people in Marneri thought their laws of the legion were meant to be taken seriously! It was all nonsense. In a situation like that, everyone just had to look out for themselves. But, of course, you couldn't admit to that in court in Marneri. Oh, no, all the proper facades had to be maintained.

That was it, he mused. The whole white city society was nothing but a facade. They made everyone obey these rules of theirs, which only benefited them, the ruling elite of Marneri. And behind the facade of propriety and order, they did whatever they pleased. Oh, he was sure of it. So they were hypocrites as well as fools! And they had no right to interfere with Aubinas' need for freedom.