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“I’ll send word back that the Upholder should tell him the Tyr needs him, should he show up for a surprise visit, shall I?” the Copper asked.
“Yes. Yes. That’s a fair wind of an idea,” NoTannadon said.
The dragons turned around in the rather cramped tunnel and hurried in the other direction.
Their arrival at the Lavadome merited no special reception, as it was simply another load of kern coming in. The trading house saw to its distribution to various wareholes and livestock corrals.
“Where will you go?” the Copper asked Nilrasha.
“Wherever you like, my lord.”
“We’re not mated yet, dear. Things may go ill for me on the Rock. Perhaps you should go to the Firemaiden quarters on your home hill. Your association with me could be hazardous.”
“It’s my blood. It flows for you. If you die, it might as well be spilled too.”
“Where can I find you?”
“I grew up on Dufu hill. Yes, the milkdrinker’s hill, among the thralls. Not much of a home, but the tunnels are clean enough. At least there’s little chance of society from the Black Rock visiting.”
“I’ll come to you in a day or two. Take care of my thralls until then. If anything happens, treat them well; they’ve earned it. And as for you—if they come for you, just do what they say and feign ignorance.”
“The way you feign your lack of ambition. Certainly.”
>Rhea arrived bearing a platter of meats and kern. NiVom stuffed food into his mouth like a dragon starved.
“Please say there’s more, Rugaard,” he said.
“Rhea, get Fourfang up and have him help you in the larder. A whole side of beef—raw is fine; it’s hung.” The girl fled.
“Thank you, Rugaard.”
“You were saying something about Tighlia….”
“She accused me of always being a blighted egg. Said I lied about her brother. So…oh, what did I do? I challenged her, and anyone else who said I didn’t give a correct account of matters at the Black River. So she appointed that old duelist ventlick of SiDrakkon’s to defend her word, NoTannadon.
“Oh, I said some very fine words to that. Quite a speech, all about my innocence seeing me to victory. The Spirits themselves would fight on my side—ha!” He spit out a chuck-bone. “But that night all I could think about was my poor, lame father—he had a limp a little like yours; did I ever tell you that?—in the dueling pit. How I jumped down atop his body.”
NiVom looked away. “I was terrified. I flew, flew across the Lavadome like baying dragonhounds were after me. Rugaard, I’m a coward.”
The Copper looked at the blazing, mud-smeared victory insignia painted on his former cavemate’s wing-leather. “You’re nothing of the kind. Nivo—NiVom, I’m honored that you came to me this night.”
The onetime future Tyr gulped. “Honored?”
“That you trusted me. And you can trust me. What can I do to assist you?”
“You’ve done enough. Keep quiet; there will be hunters after me, I expect.”
“News of this is bound to reach the ears of the Upholder and his mate. You must leave before they rise.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll put off the pursuit and confuse the word, if I can. You can’t hide in the plateau; the kern kings will wonder at it and report to the Upholder. The condors see much of what happens on the outer slopes. The mountains trail off farther south; you could try there. When Nilrasha gets her wings I’ll send her looking.”
“What about your own—Oh, of course. Well, so be it. Don’t worry, Rugaard; I’ll speak to none but you or Nilrasha.”
“I think the Tyr means for me to take over this Uphold when I mature. When I do, and they’ve left, I’ll have the roof marbled white. Look for it. That means it’s safe to visit.”
“Roof marbled white. Very well.”
