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“Sixteen days’ time.”
“Oh, food’s no trouble at all, then,” Imfamnia said. “We’ll load a few barges with cattle, and we’ll have them at the door of your King Naf’s dome in three days’ time, with a day to spare in case of mischance. Just don’t hold it up in the mountains, or anything. Somewhere easy to drive cattle from the riverbank.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Natasatch said.
“What do you want in return?” AuRon asked.
Imfamnia waved a sii in the air. “Oh, call it a gift, in honor of your new rank as Protector of a key province.”
“You’re very kind,” Natasatch said.
“Will you be serving gold coin or silver to welcome your guests?”
“Coin?” AuRon asked.
“You grays are always forgetting coin. Yes, coin puts everyone in a pleasantly satisfied mood.”
“There’s precious little coin in Dairuss. It’s a poor province.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can urge your thralls—”
“Slaves, you mean,” AuRon said. “We don’t keep slaves, whatever you call them.”
AuRon, don’t start a quarrel with someone who is trying to be kind to us, Natasatch thought to him.
“Well, if it’s simply a bit of coin holding you back, I’d be happy to loan you some,” Imfamnia said.
“I’m grateful for your help with the food, but I must not accept coin,” AuRon said.
AuRon! Natasatch thought.
She led them into a balcony room AuRon remembered from his previous visits. The blood and flame had long since been washed away, as had the Red Queen’s taste in two-color decor. The Protectors of Ghioz preferred white and gold, accented with a little blue of various shades here and there.
“What’s keeping my mate? Dearflames, I must insist on supplying you with some coin. The Red Queen had centuries’ worth of coin tucked away. We’re always sniffing out new troves. You know the Ghioz of old buried their parents with it.”
“They don’t object to their ancestors being dug up?” AuRon asked.
“Ghioz? The only thing they regret is that they didn’t find the grave first. Even for humans they’re unusually bad.”
“If there’s to be an Imperial Feast I must get my scale into shape.” She rapped her tail against a gong and humans began to flow in from crevices like water into a leaky boat, lugging wooden boxes full of tools.
Her scale looked perfect to AuRon, but then dragonelles had a better eye for that sort of thing.
“There’s just one, tiny problem, AuRon. The Tyr—well, he’s banned me from his court. We had rather a misunderstanding about something that wasn’t my fault at all; it was my foolish first mate and his friend the Dragonblade. They somehow blame me for letting the dragonriders into the Lavadome.”
“I’ve heard a little about it. Your first mate was Tyr SiMevolant then, I believe.”
“Yes, and he was cruel and stupid. But he thought the Dragonblade was just what we needed to survive in a world of men. Have you seen his blade? I was shaking so hard my scale half-dropped out for fear. Yet Tyr RuGaard seems to believe I had something to do with those men taking over the Lavadome.”
AuRon rather doubted she had been that terrified. Though she did have a reputation for running from a fight. But enough of the past. “If I’m to be hosting this feast, I’ll say who’s to be invited and who’s not. You and your mate will be my guests. It’s the least I can do for your help with the victuals. But I’ll have to refuse your offer of coin. The food is generosity enough.”
“I won’t press you. I knew from the moment I saw you we would be firm allies. Ghioz and Dairuss. With your hardy warriors and our rich lands, we’ll have nothing to fear on our borders! I can’t think of what’s keeping my mate, he must be ill again.”
It wasn’t much of a feeding pit. The early-winter rains made it look even more dismal.
He settled on Great Neck in Dairuss as the location of the celebratory feast, and decided to hold it during the afternoon so the dragons would have light to find places to sleep after.
He’d chosen the location for the feast for a number of reasons. First, he didn’t want dozens of dragons flying over Dairuss’ Golden Dome and unsettling Naf’s people. Too many of them were refugees or children of refugees from dragon attacks during the Wizard’s old race wars, and panicked, stampeding hominids would scurry about starting fires and looting each others homes or spirits knew what else in the chaos.
