Dragon Champion (Age of Fire #0) Page 72
“Treason is dealt with swiftly among our kind. We’ll soon find out who the deceiver is.”
“I’m happy to hear it. The second piece of news?”
“Three drakes have begun to fly. There will be more trials soon. Even Starlight will be involved this time, as well as you.”
“Why not Shadowstalk?”
“His turn in the dragonelle cave.”
“So it is. I look forward to flying against Starlight.”
“He looks forward to meeting you in battle.” Eliam tossed the dagger in the air. It spun as a blur, but he snatched it by the hilt as if by magic.
“How can he be so sure of facing me? Isn’t the idea to face the younger dragons and give them a chance to prove themselves?”
“You two are the swiftest. You’ll be sure to face each other at the end of the trials.”
“So be it.” AuRon said. “You’re quick with that dagger. Have you ever faced a real dragon in single combat, as your father did?”
“Many times. I have the ears to prove it. Four times my father’s tally, and I’m only half the age he was when he was killed.”
“I wonder.”
Eliam spun his dagger again, but missed the hilt when it came down. It bounced toward AuRon, but the Dragonblade stepped out and caught it with the blade pointed at AuRon. The motion turned into a lunge at AuRon’s flank.
AuRon, keyed up though he was, resisted the urge to lash back. He stood there, quivering, as the blade halted a claw’s width from his rib cage.
“You don’t react,” Eliam said. “Is it wisdom or fear, I wonder. Men, you’ll say—”
“NooShoahk, NooShoahk!” AuRon heard Varl’s voice calling. The keeper appeared around the bend of the cavern, his wild hair streaming. He halted. “What passes here?”
“Nothing of consequence,” Eliam said, sheathing his dagger. “What’s your business?”
“A fishing boat just got in. Her hull is full of tuna the size of dolphins, they say. I was wondering if NooShoahk would care for fresh fish for a change, before it gets chopped into hatchling-meal.”
Eliam shrugged, the black scales at his shoulders shifting and glittering in the candlelight. “My business here is done. Enjoy your fish, NooShoahk.” He burst out laughing. “Gar, you deserve a good meal before the trials.”
The Dragonblade and his armored shadows left.
“I was wondering what he was up to here,” Varl said.
“Bearding a dragon in his den, I’d call it,” AuRon said. “I’m glad you arrived when you did. They say fish is good for the mind and I need to use mine, like I’ve never used it before. Let’s feast.”
Varl feasted, but AuRon just nibbled, Mother’s words about gluttonous dragons running through his mind. The tuna were enormous; Varl had not been making that up.
“Have you heard about the new trials?” AuRon asked, as they watched the fish being grilled and eaten by the people of Icelanding. AuRon caught a whiff of pepper and cooking oil.
“That I have. Remember what I told you about Starlight.”
“Seems an unfair way to test the new dragons, matching them against older ones.”
“The Wyrmmaster only wants the best to have a chance to breed. Though it seems when it’s Starlight’s turn, he goes up against the worst lots.”
“Is the Wyrmmaster trying to breed venomers?”
“No, they’re taken away. Too hard to handle among other dragons. Dangerous.”
“Taken away where?”
“To be killed.”
“Have you seen the bodies?”
“Ummm, no, I suppose not.”
AuRon asked something that had been tapping beneath his thoughts, like dwarven miners. “What do you think of the wars down south? The destiny of man?”
“I don’t. I fought for all that years ago, but I’ve had enough.”
“Did your king lead you to war?”
“He was called the tarn, though our people didn’t pay him much mind. My village hardly had a name it was Bder’s Clearing, is how it would be said in Parl. One day a pair of men flew in on a dragon. One spoke our tongue; the other just worked the dragon. It was a sight, that dragon, all sleek muscle and shiny bronze scale. The one who spoke to us told us a tale of how wronged we were, driven away from the coast by the sea elves—it was the first I’d heard about us being wronged, but when I asked my father, he said it was the truth—and that men were gathering to reclaim their heritage. Men and dragons. They had shining swords and capes and the standard with the man in the golden circle. I just wanted to sit on that dragon.
“I joined up and marched away with some of the others. The dragonrider left, but the other stayed. We learned to call him swordthane, or just thane. We ended up in this little town on the coast. It was a sea elf town that had been burnt out. The site of the first victory for the Wyrmmaster’s idea. We all had to stand on the spot where the first blood was spilled and take an oath. I saw men making themselves comfortable in homes built by the craft of others, too, and I wondered what had become of those who had built the homes.
“They have trials for men, too, and they judged me fit only for holding a shield and throwing axes. I saw three battles: killed a dwarf, four elves, and two men. I was wounded. They knew I liked being among the dragons, and so for my service they made me a keeper.
“My spirit still soars every time I see a dragon aloft, so I’m happy enough. I look forward to talking with you. You’re different from the others. The Wrymmaster’s methods produce willing dragons, but I wonder if it doesn’t take something out of the breed at the same time.”
“That thought wandered through my mind, as well,” AuRon said. “My father admired humans in his way, but saw them as enemies. I don’t feel that way, though if I speak from my heart, I must tell you that I thought the way humans and dragons cooperated on this isle would be different.”
Varl smiled in understanding.
“This fish has made me hungry for more. Gather your camp-gear and saddle me. We’ll go out to one of those islands where you and Icelake would fish upon a time.”
“Even full as I am, I can taste the dragon-crisped cod,” Varl said.
They agreed to meet in the morning. AuRon could not sleep; he continually caught hints of Natasatch’s discordant dreams. It interfered with his concentration.
They flew out to one of the islands before dawn the next morning, near enough to the Isle of Ice so it could be seen on a clear day. From the air it looked like pig with its nose in the air, the rocky feet and snout pointed out to sea. The flatter part was dotted with running brambles and thick grasses.
“The lobstermen sometimes come in small boats, but it is a bad place for reefs,” Varl shouted over the autumn wind.
They landed and made camp at a circle of stones and washed-up logs used by the lobster-trappers. Fishing is a hunt of patience, which AuRon was sorely short of. After the sun lifted clear of the horizon in its climb, AuRon gave up and hunted as the pelicans did, diving with a terrific splash into the water and scooping up stunned fish with his mouth. As he waded ashore and raised his water-lids, twitching fish in his mouth, Varl ran up to him with branches he had cut for spits. AuRon dropped the catch onto the rocks.
“How many more times must you do that for a full belly?” Varl laughed.
“I haven’t time to do it again, my friend.”
“We have all the—”
“I’m going back to the island. I’ll come back if I can. If I don’t, it means I’m dead. Do what you think is best.”
“NooShoahk, what is this?”
“I’m sorry, my friend. This was all an excuse to get you off the island. I didn’t want you to be a part of what is coming. I’ve been false with you. About unimportant things. In other matters I’ve been true, and always will be. Thank you for what you’ve done for me.”
AuRon raised his wings, and in a single jump and a mighty beat was aloft.
“Are you mad?” Varl shouted.
AuRon made a final loop over the confused barbarian, feeling for the dwarsaw tucked tightly within his ear. “Yes. The question is, am I mad enough?”
Chapter 27
AuRon flew faster than even he had at the trials. He wished to return to the island before Shadowcatch arose from his slumbers.
He landed in the cave, and did not stop to speak to any of the keepers as he hurried to the caves of the breeding stock. When he stood at the gap that led to the breeding stock’s chambers, he concentrated on repeating the trick he had been practicing the night before. He watched his scales change over from gray to the dull black that matched the stripes descending his back.
From deep within his own cave, he heard voices.
“Well, did he say anything about when he would return?” Eliam rasped.
“Fishing with Varl was all I heard,” someone answered, probably the Dragonguard Rand, who was on duty when AuRon rose.
“He’s playing us false,” a dragon’s voice said in the clipped tones of a trap snapping shut. Starlight’s.
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