AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The Copper walked up and down the line of the Aerial Host, as he had seen their commanders do before battle. “Then I will depart the Empire, never to return, at least while it exists in this fashion, literally bleeding dragons to death for a single powerful dragon’s purpose. I will take as many dragons as wish to come with me. Whether I will be your Tyr or not in our new home, that’s for you to decide. I don’t particularly want the burdens—I’d much rather act as an occasional adviser to a younger, more vigorous dragon, or a veteran of many lands and many battles such as DharSii.”
That perked them up. Some looked at DharSii with new interest.
“Now, who will join me on this march? I can guarantee, nothing like it has ever happened in the history of dragons. We will go south, through the heart of the Hypatian Empire, seeking neither enmity nor succor, until we stand at the base of the rocky tower that keeps my mate from me. I do not expect the rightness of my cause to shield me, but it will strengthen me to face whatever the fates have in store for us. If I find that they have murdered Nilrasha, a flightless dragon, alone in a remote fastness, held without communication or congress, I will attempt to avenge her. I will not ask any of you to join me for that.
“One final journey, into the Empire and then back out again. We will proclaim, again and again, that we seek nothing but my mate and then the freedom to leave unmolested. Which of you will come with me and DharSii?”
They’re about to jump, AuRon thought to Wistala. They’ll all jump one way or another. Either with us, or on us.
He wished his brother had given him some warning of the nature of the speech. Wistala hadn’t known, either; she’d jumped when the Copper said he was accompanying him on his march.
As he listened, he was shocked to see Varatheela in the group of listeners. She looked well, strong and supple and in condition, with Wistala’s wingspan and his own mother’s long neck and tail.
AuRon did his best to ignore his daughter, tempted as he was to admire her. She hadn’t much cared for him since she’d breathed her first fire and he knew it. If he stared at her, she would never move, or worse, would say something against the Copper’s speech.
“I’ll come with you, my Tyr,” a thin golden dragon said.
That was the first. A malcontent, a dragon who bore a grudge against his fellows.... It proved nothing. It was the second that counted. If two would join the Copper, he might have the rest jumping in.
“You fools! You’ll burn!” CuSarrath snarled.
“All the better,” said the haggard gold dragon who was the first to join the Copper. “Trolls won’t be able to eat us.”
In the end, a majority of the Lights joined their old Tyr. They ended up with seven, all of whom had memories of his time as Tyr. AuRon suspected they’d been moved to sympathy. He felt them go over to his brother when his brother said that the rightness of his cause would not shield him, but it would strengthen him. He wondered just how much of that speech was DharSii and what belonged to his brother. DharSii certainly looked satisfied with the result.
Chapter 14
NiVom startled at the step of the messenger-flier. His firebladder ached as though it had been stabbed, and it took a moment for it to calm down. Anxiety always gave him a sour bladder. The messenger had been the wrong color for his mood. For just a moment, RuGaard stood in front of him. Then he realized it was a gray, serving as messenger for the Light Wing of the Aerial Host. He was standing in their expansive quarters in front of a copper sheet etched with ancient Elvish characters. Imfamnia had found it somewhere among the Red Queen’s possessions years ago and saved it from being shredded and devoured. He really should make a study of Elvish someday. There was a good deal of it lying about in the Red Queen’s old archives and some of it might be very interesting reading. It would be nice to know the words ringing his face every time he looked at it. For all he knew, it was the Red Queen’s final curse on those who would steal her palace.
The Red Queen and Imfamnia shared a fault: vanity.
“My Tyr,” the messenger said, bowing.
No briskness to the bow, no excitement to the step. It must be bad news. Messengers always crackled with energy when delivering good news, even when exhausted after a long flight.
“Refreshment? Food? Wine? Co-comfortable lounger?” he finished awkwardly, realizing he was about to offer a gray coin.
“No, my Tyr. Thank you, my Tyr,” the messenger said.
“Out with it, then.”
“CuSarrath found the former Tyr. He was with his brother, sister, and that renegade DharSii.”
“I take it CuSarrath didn’t bag the lot.”
“No, my Tyr. In fact—”
“Well, he’s a slippery fellow, the old Tyr. We fought together, back when a campaign in the Upper World was a rarity. With Ghioz, over a nothing dustbowl of an uphold. We won, though.”
“Of course you did, my Tyr. But if you don’t mind me saying, you’re mistaken. He didn’t get away. Not exactly. He’s marching south.”
“Into Hypatia? He and what army?”
“That’s just it, my Tyr. Ours. Some of the Lights went over to him.”
CuSarrath! Strong of wing but weak of brain! He should never have allowed the Light Wing its own headquarters; it should have remained attached to the rest of the Host. He’d have the Grand Commander’s head for this—
Back to the matter at hand, NiVom. Matter at hand. He struggled to return his face to the usual calm interest he displayed when dealing with messengers.
