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Naf set the girl atop Auron’s back. She cried, but so quietly, it made Auron feel for her days in hiding, confined in a barrel. Auron turned his neck to look at her, tears cleaning the wine from the sides of her nose.
“Nula,” she said.
Naf stroked her hair. “I got that anyway. It’s ‘pony’ in one of the eastern tongues. She thinks she’s going on a pony ride.”
“Why do you trust me with her? Why wouldn’t I eat her as an afternoon snack?”
“Because you’re agreeing to take her. There are a lot of legends about dragons among my people. They don’t strike the same terror into us as some other nations of the world. They can be dangerous, but they tell the truth.”
“Even if that is true, I cannot remember making any such promise. What people are yours?”
“We once were counted among the mighty. NooMoakh figures into our sagas, as a matter of fact.”
Auron’s detailed memory supplied a name. “Together with a king named Tindairuss?”
“Yes. Touching that someone else knows our fireside stories.”
The girl began to bang her heels into Auron’s sides.
“Walk her around a little. I’m going to load up my camel.”
“Put something for her to eat in some bags. Waterskins, too. It’ll be days before I get over the mountains. She’ll need blankets, as well.”
“And you thought you couldn’t care for a child.” Naf chuckled, watching her explore Auron’s pebbly skin with little hands. Auron’s skin flushed purple at her touch.
“I’ll take her to the other side of the mountains and find some of her kind. NooMoahk can wait a little longer.”
“Thank you, Auron.” Naf rolled dried meat and fruit into a blanket and fixed it so Hieba could sit on it. “This reminds me of some of the stories of Tindairuss and NooMoahk the Black.”
“Then perhaps you are destined to be a king, as well. That silver you wear about your head is a bit like a crown.”
“My people couldn’t have a king of the old blood even if they wanted one. We’re ruled by the Ghioz now, which is better than being raided by the Ironriders. But it’s hard to better oneself. The Ghioz keep a man in the station of his birth.”
“I wish you luck in bettering yourself, then.”
Auron watched Naf gather food for the camel whistling tunelessly all the while. Finally he nosed out a chest from under the collapsed tent, opened it, extracted a leather pouch, and hung it around his neck. Auron swung the girl on his tail, letting her feet splash in the pool as he did so. The delighted giggles from the child brought back memories of Mother. In all likelihood, this girl had no parents, too. He felt suddenly protective of her, as if she were a hatchling rather than just a human. He rasped the child across the back of her neck with his tongue, and she shrieked and wriggled then babbled to him.>The man stood, laughing like an imbecile. He bent over, cradling his stomach, sat, and took off his hat to fan himself.
If he’s thinking I’ll spare him out of fear of killing a madman, he’s in for a surprise, Auron thought. If he really has lost his senses, it’s still the kindest thing to do. Then Auron paused—something about the man’s circlet, pulling his hair away from his face, caught his eye. The metalwork was of a style he had seen before. And the laugh had a familiar bray to it.
“Auron,” Naf said in thick Parl. “I’ve not touched the treasure yet, so you have no cause to kill me, ‘Revengerog.’ ”
After Auron washed himself in the pool, he emerged to find Naf extracting a camel, trapped in the fallen tent. The beast was in no mood to be quieted, and Naf beat it into a corner with the flat of his scimitar and tied it securely.
He returned to Auron covered in bites and spit. “That camel put up near as good a fight as you did last fall, drake,” Naf said.
“I hope that is meant to be a compliment. If it is an insult—”
“No, no insult intended. I don’t know dragons, but it’s sad to learn they have no sense of humor.”
“All of a dragon’s senses are sharp. Sight, hearing—”
“Wrak! That’s not what I meant. Men laugh when they encounter the unusual, the ridiculous. The unexpected.” Naf poked his head into a tent, entered it, and came out again with some sacks over his shoulder and a waterskin made out of something the size of a goat.
“I don’t understand,” Auron said. “The unexpected means one should be cautious, not laugh.”
“How do you explain color to the blind? It’s an unexpected ending to a story, perhaps. Here’s an example of what I mean. ‘Two cannibals are sitting by the fire. One says, “I hate my wife’s brother.” So the other one says, “Then try the potatoes.” ’ Do you see?”
Auron stuck out his tongue and tried to smell the humor. “No.”
