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“Where is the Tyr who threw himself against the Dragonblade?” SoRolatan asked.
“Waiting for Paskinix and some bats to complete a reconnaissance of the Nor’flow,” the Copper said.
“Paskinix! You’ve placed our fate in the hands of a long-standing enemy?”
Ayafeeia returned with some of her dragonelles, which was some comfort. She reported that her fast-flying courier, Yefkoa, had seen fighting in Hypatia. A few Ironriders had come across the Red Mountains before the dragons seized the pass, and many times more had roared through the river gap and were riding up both sides of the great river, burning and stealing as they approached the city of Hypat.
“They may be more amenable to an offer of help now,” Nilrasha said.
At last Paskinix returned with the bats, and a favorable report. They’d found an old dwarf-mine that led to the surface.
At last he could unleash the Aerial Host. Someplace where it might make a difference.
“The day we have planned for has come. Now we can move,” the Copper said, talking over his thoughts with Nilrasha. “Engage the Queen’s attention by sending Ayafeeia and the Firemaids to Hypat. I’m a firm believer in second chances. You’ll stay and oversee matters in the Lavadome, of course. It’ll be easier for you. I’m taking the Aerial Host and every dragon who’ll come. And many of the griffaran and my personal guard, of course. There’ll be more food. If you have to, use the food stored in case of earthquake.”
“Of course. My Tyr, the Queen leads the Firemaids. If they’re to be hazarded in such a battle, I should be with them.”
“But the Lavadome still must be guarded. We have hatchlings, eggs, newly mated drago-dames heavy with eggs. With only a handful of Firemaids and young griffaran left behind to guard them, who shall be responsible for them?”
“NoSohoth is happy to remain behind. Was there ever a dragon who cared less for glory?”
“You’re not calling him a coward.”
“No, I admire him. He’s survived longer than any Tyr, quietly attending to thrall sick lists and banquet menus and allocation of caves. He shows better judgment than any of us.”
The Copper felt his muscles go liquid at the thought of what might happen to Nilrasha in battle.
“I’d be lost without you,” he said at last.
“Allow me the same feeling for you, my love. What should happen to me if you fall from the sky? A small, quiet cave with a good supply of wine, as Tighlia had?”
“Suppose we both should fall?”
“I suspect the world will manage without us. It did well before we breathed. Life will go on after our hearts stop.”
He pressed his nose to the pulse-point behind her griff. “Still, we are responsible to, and for, dragonkind. The Tyr is called the ‘Father of the People’ in hatchling rhymes. I would not have the Lavadome orphaned.”
“Then you stay. If one of us should die, better that it should be me. A Queen may be replaced. All you’d have to do is mate again. The third try is often all the more glorious after two failures.”
She withdrew, watching. He suspected she wondered if she’d gone too far. Anytime Halaflora came up, even obliquely, he became moody.
The old dueling pit had dragons on the shelves, on the old sand in the pit, and two even stood in the entrance.
The Copper stood on the old spur, a long flange of rock where the duel-judges used to rest after giving instructions and announcing the start. From here he was above most of the dragons, except those at the very top.
“Thank you for coming to hear the news,” the Copper said. “What has come to my ears is all bad.
“One chance remains,” the Copper continued. “The Red Queen has launched war on our Upholds and Hypatia at the same time. We do not have the strength to fight her everywhere at once. There is only one course left to us, a battle of desperation.”
“You began this war, RuGaard,” LaDibar said. “Now that matters have turned against us, you would have us destroy ourselves.”
“Tyr RuGaard—at least for the present.”
“The Red Queen offered us peace and you rejected it.”
“She didn’t offer us peace—she offered us terms of surrender. What price would we have had to pay to keep cattle and kern flowing, I wonder? Hostages to good behavior? Strong young wings to fly her messengers around?
“I propose a strike at the heart of Ghioz.” He launched himself into the arena. “When I was a hatchling, I learned that the strongest snake could be felled if you but crushed its head.”
