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Rethothanna bowed deeply, not so much to NoSohoth but to the command of the Tyr. “Off you go then, Rugaard. Though personally I’d rather be dropped into a dueling pit.”
The Copper approached the great dragons, perched on benches above the banquet pit, braziers all around burning oliban. The Tyr and his mate, with SiDrakkon on one side and Nivom on his other, clustered about with the three granddaughters of the Tyr. The Copper limped up and made a greeting bow.
The Tyr looked from one wingside to the other. “Ahh, er, Rugaard, we’ve run into something of a question that I was hoping you’d help us with.”
“Of course, Tyr.”
“I won’t have lies spread about my brother, whatever the source,” Tighlia said. “This half-wit can’t tell vermin from griffaran.”
The Copper felt a quick flush. How good it would be to attend a banquet like this with Zara. Her eyes would burn like the sun, as Tighlia’s did, when others made jokes. He didn’t care what Tighlia thought of him; he rather admired her for her defense of her brother.
The silence, threatening from SiDrakkon, cautious from Nivom, put Rugaard on edge.
“Please be quiet, my love,” Tyr said. “Rugaard. It seems negotiations were made possible only by a good deal of damage to the walls of that stone city on the Black River. Can you enlighten us as to how that came about?”
The Copper wondered if he could be challenged to a duel over his answer. “I believe so. HeBellereth knocked them down by dropping stones.”
“Bravely done, yes,” the Tyr said. “But how did all that come about?”
“The idea was Nivom’s. He and HeBellereth worked on it for days, practicing, and he put the blighters to work finding the right kinds of boulders and gathering them. The night of the battle SiDrakkon ordered the actual attack, and of course he was in command at the time.”
“Ha! See, the victory is mine,” SiDrakkon thundered.
The Tyr flapped a wing. “Quiet now; don’t intimidate this drake. Now, Rugaard, correct me if I’m wrong, but the stones were used only after an attack had failed. An attack that cost the lives of three dragons. Am I wrong in any detail?”
“The last thing I’d wish to do is correct my grandsire,” the Copper said.
The Tyr snorted. “Yes or no, do I have it right?”
“Yes, great Tyr.”
Nivom seemed to swell. SiDrakkon’s tail knocked over two braziers, and thralls rushed forward to right them and pour water on the smoldering coals and incense.
“Is that all, Grandsire?” the Copper asked.
“Tyr, this fool had a thrall run away on him, I believe,” SiDrakkon said. “Escaped into Bant. A man named, er, Harb.”
“Harf,” the Copper corrected, wondering how SiDrakkon knew that.
“Don’t bother me with trivia,” the Tyr said. “I know your games, SiDrakkon. I want to know the truth about events in Bant, not the comings and goings of dropping scrapers.”
“I’m sorry for his escape, Tyr,” the Copper said. “Should I have chased him down?”
“Never mind that. There’s one other question. It seems after my mate’s brother lost two dragons on the first assault on the fortress, he gave orders for a retreat south. Why weren’t those orders followed?”
“We were in a strong position, Tyr, and the Ghi men had lost much of their cavalry.”
Tyr cocked his head. “According to some, everyone was ready to quit the hill until you said you’d stay by the wounded. HeBellereth insists that it was you who wanted to stick and fight.”
“HeBellereth was badly hurt at that point. I helped look after his wounds, so that could be why he remembers me. Nivom was in command, Tyr. The glory and honor of the victory the next day belong to him—and HeBellereth, of course—for breaking the shield wall with his own body.”
“Someone really must make a song about all this,” Tyr said. “NoSohoth, call for silence. I want the banquet to hear something.”>Rhea stood and watched through the night, trembling and crying, and refused any food or comfort.
In the end, the king sent forth a messenger once again, announcing his presence and leaving it to the Ghi men to decide. They met on a hilltop thick with fuzzy fruit the blighters called “sweetdrops,” and the Peace of the Sweetdrop was announced.
The Copper, though cynical about such arrangements, had to admit that the terms were very advantageous to Bant. NiThonius himself advised the king on the whys and wherefores.
No Ghi man would come south of the Black River without seeking the king’s permission.
