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“You are now of the Sadda-Vale, and therefore my responsibility,” Scabia said. “I shall give you something you may find useful in your journey.”
She extended a wing toward the blighter runs and four came forward, each bearing an ornate silver object about the size of a dragon-egg on a carrying-canvas held between them.
DharSii and the others craned their necks to see what Scabia’s servants had produced. Her daughter let out an appreciative breath. “So lovely!”
The Copper couldn’t make out what it was, other than some kind of decor. He’d been expecting, perhaps, a harness or similar bearing-frame such as the fliers of the Aerial Host put across their backs for carrying dried meats and honeycomb.>He decided to trust Wistala’s incognito mate. “I need a change of conversation, DharSii.”
“I am sympathetic to the inclination,” DharSii said.
At dinner that night the Copper decided to make his move.
“I’m terribly out of condition,” he said. “I was swimming the other day.”
“I thought your odor had improved,” NaStirath said.
“I could hardly climb out of the water.”
“The heat,” Aethleethia said, tossing her hatchlings another shred of meat. They promptly fell on it and the big one, CuDasthene, ripped it away from the others so they were left with only a mouthful. “It relaxes one so. I must nap through the afternoon if I spend the morning bathing.”
“I would have liked to see this hall full of dragons,” the Copper said.
Scabia sighed. “Full? Not even I have ever seen it full, but once, when I was not much older than these fireless squirmers here, there were enough dragons so that they seemed one continuous wall of scale about me. Safe—I can’t remember when I felt so safe.”
“Perhaps we should invite some other dragons here,” the Copper said.
“What, for a party?” NaStirath asked.
“No, to stay with us.”
Scabia picked a bone from her teeth, snapped it, and used the sharp end to clean her teeth. “There are no others. None worth having.”
“You have said that many times before,” DharSii said. “Since then, Wistala joined us, with her two brothers. They’re worth having.”
NaStirath chuckled low in his throat. “Well, I think we can both agree she is, anyway.”
“NaStirath, you really are tiresome,” his mate said.
“I’ve heard of some dragons at a tower on the Inland Ocean.”
“I know them,” DharSii said. “You can hardly call them dragons anymore. They’ve been serving men for three generations now. The first were allies. Their children were paid subservients. This generation—you can hardly call them servants. The next generation will be slaves. Well-fed, carefully groomed and cleaned slaves, but still slaves.”
“All the more reason—,” the Copper began.
“Crusades! Tyr RuGaard, do you know why this hall is so empty? Dragons with fancy ideas about altering the world. The world is what it is, we are what we are, and the less we try to alter the course of the world, the better we’ll do.”
“I was only thinking out loud,” the Copper said. “Please forgive me if I’ve brought back painful memories.” He hated playing the supplicant. But then, wasn’t that his rightful place? He was living on charity in another’s home.
“You are used to the company of dozens, or hundreds,” Aethleethia said. “With us, it is always the same three or four faces. Why shouldn’t you go visit some new dragons?”
“Be prepared for disappointment,” DharSii said.
“I would like the exercise—and the challenge,” the Copper said.
“If you go, I fear you will never return,” Scabia said. “Something in my hearts’ beating tells me this.”
“Perhaps I should remain,” the Copper said. “Your wisdom seems worth listening to. The idea of a long flight was an idle fancy, perhaps.”
“My fantasies are a good deal more idle,” NaStirath said.
