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“This gray is eager enough. Been long away from his kind, they say. He’ll do better.”
Four of the Dragonguard fell out of the procession, drew weapons that were half-ax and half-blade, and went to Nereeza’s shelf. They began working on her foreleg, severing it from the trunk. Nereeza’s body twitched in ghastly reaction as they worked.
“A dead dragonelle’s too big to get out in one piece,” one of the females said in AuRon’s ear. “They have to take us out in sections.”
Eliam went to Nereeza’s head and took out a small dagger. He cut her ears off and stuck them in his belt. He approached AuRon, cleaning his blade with an oily rag. He flipped his visor up and grinned at AuRon from behind his bloody armor.
“I hope you’ve learned something about the world we’re building, gray,” Eliam said. “It’s a world of alliances. Those who help us will be rewarded. Those who hinder us—” He jerked his chin at the butchery behind him. “I’ve got nearly a hundred . . . a hundred! . . . pairs just like this, from hatchling, drake, and dragon. Watch yourself, or one day you’ll be in my collection.”
“Eliam!” one of the egg keepers said.
AuRon lowered his head to Eliam’s level, waggling his ears. Yes, “I’ve learned something. If you come for mine, you’ll need more than eight men.”
Chapter 25
Three days later, AuRon was summoned again to the Wyrmmaster’s lodge. He flew this time, watching a pair of ships catch the breeze down the fjord. Farther out at the widening of the fjord where it met the sea, four young dragons were making practice flights with riders. AuRon watched the dragons swoop along in a staggered line like fishing pelicans, wingtips almost touching.
The Wyrmmaster stood watching the ships put out to sea. It was a cool morning; he had his cloak pulled tight around his chest and a knit skullcap on. AuRon landed, and the Wyrmmaster turned on him with a friendly smile.
“There go my allies among the human nations. All good men and true, save Svak Thunderarm. He participated in the war against the Wheel of Fire Dwarves, but will not send his men farther south, as he says his people have no enemies there. It’s as if he ignored everything said at this gathering.”
AuRon guessed what was coming. “Men forget those who do favors for them. Perhaps there are some among his people who are more farsighted than he.”
“I know there are. That is why I asked for you, NooShoahk. Are you rested enough for a long flight? They say you took to sleeping among the dragonelles.”
“I’ve been long away from my own kind, especially females. Having so many all to myself—I wanted to make the most of my week.”
“I understand. Stars above, more than that, I approve, my new-horn young gray. I’ve some messages that need to go to Gettel at Juutfod’s dragon tower. Then I wish you to go on to Thunderarm’s hold at Maganar. There are some men there who may welcome a change in leadership. After you’ve delivered that message and taken replies, you may return here for a time. With luck, I’ll have to send you south with more messages, and you’ll be spared some of the winter.”
“I’ll need to look at a map to find these places. I’ve never been to either.”
“Come to the map room. Or rather, have your head come to the map room—the stairs are too small for you—and I’ll show you.”
He returned to his lodge, and AuRon waited until he opened the shutters on one of the upper rooms. By rearing up on his hind legs, he could just get his head inside so he could turn it and look at the walls. There was a map of the Isle of Ice filling one wall, attached to it a smaller map showing the archipelago around it. A huge table of sketch-maps and notes stood in the center of the room, and on the other long wall a case. The Wyrmmaster unlocked the case and opened it to show a map of the lands around the Inland Ocean. Rib-boned pins stuck out of it in various places, like a hedgehog trailing bracken.
“What do the pins say?” AuRon asked.
“You’re quicker than some of my captains, NooShoahk,” Wyrmmaster Wrimere said. “The pins let me know who and where my friends and enemies are. With your help, this map will be kept more up to date. Much of the information on it is months old, if not a year. I’d have more courier dragons, but we’ve had losses to replace. I sent out too many untrained dragons at first, and they reacted unpredictably in battle. Now only a few dragons are trusted to fight without men to bridle their natural fury. White silk means members of the Circle of Men. Red silk shows where my dragons are based. Blue silk are blighters who have allied themselves to the cause—they’ll be the rude labor that builds our new world—green is for the elves, and gold the dwarves. This summer I’ve pulled out a gold pin and two green ones. A good year.”
AuRon looked at the headwaters of the Falnges. Naf’s land was marked with a black pin. There were only a few scattered on the map, most of the others were clustered in the old Hypatian Empire.
“What does black mean, your Supremacy?” AuRon asked.
“Those are the saddest of all. Those lands are ruled by men, but they’ve succumbed to the influences of elvish plots or dwarvish gold, and as such must be treated as the failed lines. Human hygiene demands their extermination.”
“Starlight returns! Starlight returns!”
There was excitement in the saddling cave. AuRon looked up from the bandolier Varl was fixing about his neck to see a silver dragon gliding into the cave. It was a rather stunted dragon, even AuRon with his unusually thin body probably outweighed him, but it flew gracefully.
“He’s our ranking dragon, NooShoahk,” Varl said. “He was the fastest until your trials. The Wyrmmaster calls him a dragon for the others to imitate, and Starlight loves the Wyrmmaster more than life. He’s one of the older dragons of the new generation.”
“Older! Why it’s smaller than me.”
“They say he was ill when he was young. But don’t be fooled—he’s killed dragons larger than you in the trials.”
“How?”
“He’s a venomer.”
