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“Just follow the sound of water.”
He could hear splashing, and the babble of human voices, and a plucking sound of some musical contraption or other that grew more distinct as he passed a burning brazier or two throwing off expensive smelling scents. SiDrakkon’s mate dropped some fragrant leaves on the flames and took a deep lungful.
A curtain blocked further progress.
“Your honor,” he called. “It’s Rugaard. Your mate admitted me. I wish to speak to you.”
“Go away, drake.”
The Copper sniffed at the moist air around the curtain. He smelled humans, along with wine and the vaguely sickly smell of fruit.
“I want my thrall back. The girl, Rhea.”
“I sent you a replacement. Didn’t she arrive?”
“I don’t care if you sent a calf of solid gold. I want my thrall back.”
“Well, come in, then. Let’s talk. You should appreciate the air in here.”
The Copper pushed through the double layer of tanned hides on the door. The air was moist, warm and a little steamy. A pool of water filled almost half the chamber, and in an alcove on a woven matt SiDrakkon reclined, reading something written on metal plates laid out under his nose.
The place was crawling with human females sweating in the heat. Some polished his scale, one stood with a barrow containing more metal plates, one played an instrument with strings that made those annoying twanging sounds, and several more just lounged around, drinking or eating or bathing. Only a few bothered to wear even the lightest kind of wrap.
“Take a breath of nepenthe, Rugaard, and relax. Here you can let the cares and responsibilities fall away.”
The thick human musk made the Copper hungry, if anything. He looked around for Rhea and didn’t—Wait, was that her, huddled with an elder of her sex in a corner? So hard to tell without the coloration. She looked shocking with all her hair shorn off.
He noticed that none of the females had very long hair.
“Why did you shear her?”
“All my cushions are stuffed with human hair. Adds a pleasant air to the room, and they still bring a good price once they lose the smell. What do you need that one for? She’s just a thrall, or does she do something special for you? She’s only just ripening now. The next few years are going to be exquisite. I won’t eat her for years, I promise.”
He sniffed at one of the wine-sipping females. She giggled something to a companion. The Copper guessed none of them spoke much Drakine.
Rhea looked at him, a silent plea in her eyes. A muscular blighter came in bearing a stone the size of a dragon egg in iron tongs, and dropped it into a smaller pool connected to the main one. It hissed and steamed as it struck.
“I’m fond of her, and she’s quiet. I’d like her back. I don’t care about the hair. In fact, every time she gets a new coat, I’ll have it shorn and sent to you.”
“You’ve made enough trouble for me, showing me up on the Black River. You’re lucky I’ve calmed down or I’d be challenging you.”
“My memory of events on the Black River isn’t clear at all. You’d better hope it doesn’t come back, or I’ll remember how you hung back while you sent dragons to their deaths.”
He rolled and straightened. “You whelp. Nivom’s bitten out one heart, and you’re after another. Do that and I’ll challenge you to a duel of honor.”
“Challenge away. It won’t keep me from telling the Tyr all I know. Kill me and I’ll swear to its truth as I’m dying.”
Griff flickered on each of them.
“I can’t stay angry in my grotto. Take your silly little girl and snuffle away.”
The Copper switched to the rather slower form of Drakine used for the thralls: “Rhea, come away from there, if you like. Back to my cave.” The girl threw a wrap around herself and hurried to his side.
“I can get a dozen just like her in here tomorrow, you know,” SiDrakkon said.
The last sounded like more of a promise to himself than a parting blast at the Copper.
“Thank you, your honor,” the Copper said. He held the curtain open for Rhea and together they escaped the steaming grotto.
