Outposts

by Vickie Knestaut

  Prince Aymon stared at her a second. “To be perfectly honest, I want you here should I bring back anyone on my tail.”

  Trysten folded her arms over her chest. “So if the Western kingdom chases you back through the pass, you want me here waiting to catch and protect you.”

  Prince Aymon lifted an eyebrow. “I was thinking more along the lines of you protecting the kingdom, but I won’t argue against you saving me as well if necessary. That is your job, isn’t it?”

  Trysten gave a single nod. “It is. And I will gladly do it.”

  “Good,” Prince Aymon said. “Now, as I said earlier, I have someone I want you to meet.”

  He swept his arm back toward the door as if inviting her to leave the den.

  Chapter 3

  “Who do you want me to meet?” Trysten asked as she rounded the den table.

  “I have brought you another dragon healer. His name is Clemens. He comes highly recommended—”

  “I already have a dragon healer. Have you forgotten Galelin?”

  Prince Aymon opened the door onto the landing outside the antechamber, and Trysten followed him out. “Yes, I remember Galelin quite well. I was impressed with his work on the royal horde. But Galelin is not a young man—”

  “He’s not too old to serve.”

  “No one has said anything to the contrary,” Aymon said. “In fact, no one is saying much of anything when you keep interrupting me.”

  Trysten stepped past him and stormed down the stairs. The steps shook slightly as Prince Aymon followed her down. Across the weyr, everyone spared a glance in her direction, and the dragons flat out stared at her.

  “Each weyr has a dragon healer,” Prince Aymon continued as soon as they reached the dirt floor of the weyr. “One healer for twenty dragons. That has been the way of things for as long as the kingdom has stood. How many dragons are in your horde as of this moment?”

  Trysten nearly said thirty-seven, but then paused to count the six she had just received with the return of Fallen Muzad’s dragons. “Forty-three.”

  Prince Aymon nodded. “Forty-three. And that is as of today. That is a lot of dragons for any man to care for, regardless of his age.”

  “He has apprentices.”

  Prince Aymon laid a hand upon Trysten’s shoulder and stopped her. She whirled around to face him.

  “What is the problem here?” Prince Aymon asked, his brows knit together. “I came to Aerona bearing gifts. I am seeing to the needs of your village. I am trying to make life better for you and those who live with you. Why are you treating me like I’m here to take something from you?”

  Trysten sucked in a tight breath. She looked around at the hordesmen and weyrboys who were suddenly very intent on looking occupied and too busy to eavesdrop.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I just...” She looked out the door that opened onto the weyr yard. Several doves from the day’s training strutted through the yard and pecked at unseen morsels among the dirt and straw. They jumped at the slightest movement of a dragon.

  “Please, go on,” Prince Aymon said.

  Trysten turned back to the Prince, her fists clenched at her side. “You just flew in here with the largest swell of dragons anyone in Aerona has ever seen. You’re heading to the West to teach them a lesson, and to my surprise, I am envious. I want to go through that pass at your side and make them pay for every friend and hordesman who fell fighting their wild army, even Muzad. I want them to feel the pain I felt every time a dragon fell or took an arrow following my orders. I want them to feel the fear the people of Aerona felt watching that army come for our village. I want to make them pay. For Aerona, I want them to pay!”

  Until she said it out loud, Trysten hadn’t realized how she was feeling. The suddenness of her admission startled her. She glanced around to see who was in the weyr. The hordesmen busied themselves with their tasks, but she knew they’d heard her. Paege stood several stalls away, tending to Theya as if she were his dragon. He stole a quick glance at Trysten over his shoulder, and she could see his face was flushed. His posture was tense and rigid as if he were angry or upset.

  Fish and birds! Why couldn’t she keep these things to herself? What kind of a leader let her emotions run wild when a steady hand was needed? Suddenly embarrassed at her outburst, she dropped her eyes to the floor of the weyr so the Prince and her hordesmen would not see the tears of frustration building up in her eyes as she collected herself.

  The weyr was so quiet it seemed that no creature in it was drawing breath, herself included. After a few moments, Trysten lifted her head and looked at the Prince. He held her gaze, his face unreadable.

  “Honestly, Aymon,” she said, her voice steady, “I am a little horrified to find that I want revenge, but for all the sky, I do.” She turned to leave, her jaw set.

  As she walked past Elevera, the sound of footsteps running toward her made her turn around just as someone lifted her into the air from behind. It was Paege. What in the wilds was he doing? Trysten looked at Elevera and swore her dragon was smiling. More hordesmen rushed at her, and she found herself being lifted higher, riding the shoulders of Vanon and Kaylar and Brand, along with Paege. “For Aerona! For Aerona!” Paege cheered.

  Soon all of the hordesmen had joined in the cheer. “For Aerona! For Aerona!” Even the weyrboys joined in, Iven dancing around Trysten as they carried her up the aisle then back down. Borsal clapped and whistled through his teeth. Mardoc stood at his side, wearing his usual inscrutable expression, but Trysten saw his lips twitch to hide a grin when she met his eyes.

  She looked around the weyr at the cheering hordesmen. By the wilds, Trysten hadn’t realized how much her horde needed a celebration. How much she needed one. They had been victorious, albeit it at an awful cost. Still, victory should be celebrated.

  “For Aerona!” she yelled, joining the chorus, as the procession carried her back down the aisle and placed her quite awkwardly in front of Prince Aymon. She stumbled trying to get her feet beneath her, and the Prince caught her by the elbow.

  “For Aerona,” he said quietly, and bowed slightly to her, grinning as hard as any of her hordesmen.

  A bit flustered, Trysten straightened her riding sweater and nodded at the Prince. “Let’s go meet your dragon healer,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  Chapter 4

  Trysten followed Prince Aymon to the secondary weyr yard. The weyrboys had already filled one of the troughs and dragons took turns dipping their long tongues into the water, tossing their heads back to swallow like birds. Droplets trickled down their colorful necks, the scales glistening like jewels in the bright heat of the afternoon. Around the dragons, men toiled. Mallets rang as hordesmen drove stakes into the ground and erected a makeshift camp.

  The Prince picked his way through the crowd toward the tall, thin man who had taken Kingwind earlier.

  “Clemens,” Prince Aymon said as he stepped up to the man who was examining the webbing in the wing of a turquoise dragon. “I want you to meet Trysten of Aerona, Dragoneer of Aerona weyr.”

  Clemens stood and bowed to Trysten. “A pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard much about you.”

  “This is Clemens of the mother city,” Aymon said, turning to Trysten. “He has served in the royal weyr since he was a boy and is now an accomplished dragon healer.”

  Trysten extended her hand to the man. “Good to meet you.”

  Clemens took her hand and gave it a tight pump with only the barest hesitation. He grinned a sincere smile that reached his eyes. His shaggy hair and relaxed posture suggested he was an easy-going man who would likely feel comfortable with Galelin’s general disarray.

  “It is an honor to meet you and to serve your weyr. I hope to prove myself worthy of such a legendary post,” Clemens said, his eyes nearly twinkling with good will.

  Trysten glanced to the Prince, but he gave no indication that he found anything of Clemens statement to be off. Instead, Aymon asked if Galelin still lived in the
same cottage.

  “Of course,” Trysten said. “This way.”

  Clemens joined them, and they headed back into the village to Galelin’s cottage. Clemens stepped up beside Trysten. He was more than a head taller than her, and Trysten noticed him measure his steps to match her stride. His hands fluttered in front of him as if trying to figure out how to say something.

  “I was on one of your dragons when we approached,” he said. His gaze wasn’t on her, but cast before them, as if looking at something only he could see. “It was really quite amazing to be upon her back when Elevera—It is Elevera, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Trysten said with a nod.

  “Elevera. Yes. When Elevera displayed. I’ve seen alphas display before. I’ve seen them take dragons into their hordes, but...” Clemens shook his head, and his mop of hair danced. “The sensation was amazing. Alphas always display directly in front of the dragons they are adopting, as if to block their path. The absconded dragons must accept the alpha as their own if they wish to proceed. But your Elevera, she displayed at quite some distance. I could see her, but it was much farther away than I’ve seen any alpha display. Is that typical? It was effective, surely. I felt the dragon I was riding accept her new alpha. Her muscles shifted, and her entire posture softened the moment Elevera roared.”

  Trysten grinned at the excitement in the man’s voice. It was obvious to see he was quite impressed with Elevera and his sincerity was endearing.

  “Well, I...” Trysten said. She looked down the lane ahead. “I don’t know. I’ve seen her take hordes at close range, but today was about the farthest so far. I wasn’t quite sure what was going on until she began displaying.”

  “I see,” Clemens muttered. His head bobbed once as if confirming something. “I hear that you have a...gift.”

  Trysten and Prince Aymon took several steps before realizing that Clemens had stopped. They turned back to him.

  “I have heard...” Clemens’s gaze darted to Aymon a second, and then back to Trysten. “You can communicate with the dragons, right?”

  “Communicate?” Trysten asked, smiling. She wasn’t sure what to make of this man, but his exuberance was charming.

  Clemens looked to Prince Aymon once more, and then back at Trysten. “You are able to communicate with the dragons...” He lifted his hand to his brow and made little waves with his fingers as if they were emanating from his head.

  Trysten laughed. “No. I don’t know what they’re thinking. Not like that. I can’t tell them what I’m thinking, and I can’t understand what they’re thinking, but if I wish for something while on Elevera’s back, she will do it.”

  “Wish?” Clemens asked. His brow creased in confusion. He gave a slight shake of his head as if to invite her to explain further.

  Trysten grew serious as she recalled the time she met Paege and Elevera in secret and tried to help foster the bond between them. Paege had gotten so frustrated as Elevera responded to her, seated behind him in Elevera’s saddle, even though he was the one gripping the saddle’s lip.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she said, shaking her head to clear it. “I don’t understand it myself, I just know it is there.” She hoped he’d accept that.

  “Fascinating,” Clemens said. He held his hand out before him slightly, as if to still something, or to halt something rushing at him. “But you do know their thoughts. You know...”

  He glanced at Aymon again, and Trysten had to stifle a grin as she thought of the little finger waves transferring back and forth between Aymon and Clemens as if they were in secret communication.

  “The dragon bridge is what I think you call it,” Clemens finally said.

  Trysten stiffened. “What of it?”

  “You tried to communicate with one of the Western prisoners through his dragon as if using the dragon as a translator.” He wove his fingers together. “Please tell me about that.”

  Trysten shook her head, then looked down the lane toward Galelin’s cottage. The charm of Clemens was starting to wear off as she began to feel like an attraction at the village fair.

  “Later,” Trysten said, smiling at Clemens so he knew she wasn’t angry. “I have a lot to do with the arrival of the Prince and all these dragons. I’d like to introduce you to Galelin before I move on.”

  “Of course, of course,” Clemens said. He bowed his head slightly and held up his open palms. “Lead the way. But please excuse my big mouth. It’s just that I have had two days to sit in the saddle and think up all the questions I’d like to ask you. There is so much about dragons that I’d like to know, and it seems that you may very well be the authority on them.”

  Trysten blushed slightly. She turned and gestured toward Galelin’s cottage. “It’s just over here.”

  They stepped up to the door, and Trysten knocked.

  “He’s not home,” Galelin announced loudly.

  The three of them spun around to find Galelin approaching from behind. A wide grin spread across his face, and his eyes twinkled with delight at his joke.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I heard the commotion and saw the dragons descending. I wanted to head out to the secondary yard and see the spectacle for myself. Prince Aymon, it is good of you to grace our modest village again. I hope this doesn’t mean there is another army making for our lanes.”

  Prince Aymon smiled. “None that I know of. And likewise, it is good to be back here. I have missed the people of Aerona. And, I have brought someone for you to meet. May I present Clemens of the mother city. He is a dragon healer who apprenticed under the Dragon Master himself.”

  Galelin stepped up to Clemens and extended his hand to him. “Galelin of Drowlin. You apprenticed under Gury, did you?”

  Clemens grinned his wide grin. He nodded and took Galelin’s hand. “That I did. Eleven fighting seasons.”

  “Eleven? My. Well, what brings you out our way? You’re certainly a fair flight from home.”

  Clemens glanced at Aymon again, then back to Galelin. “I’ve been sent here by order of King Cadwaller to assist Aerona weyr in the care and healing of dragons.”

  Galelin’s eyebrows shot up. He looked to Aymon, and when the Prince’s face proved to be impassive, he looked back to Clemens. “Are you replacing me, young man?”

  “No, no!” Clemens said with an emphatic shake of his head. “Of course not. Gury said that I could learn a lot from you. It’s just that with... well,” Clemens gestured at the dragons milling about at the end of the lane, out in the secondary yard. “You have over forty dragons to care for. And with the importance of Aerona and Trysten’s horde, it seems that you should have someone to assist you. It’s a large task.”

  “I have an apprentice,” Galelin said. “Two of them, actually.”

  Clemens nodded. “By all means, sir, keep them. Train them. Your wisdom and experience should benefit others besides me.”

  “His apprenticeship ended six fighting seasons ago,” Prince Aymon said. “He was practically raised in the royal weyr.”

  “Were you now?” Galelin said as he turned his attention back to Clemens. “You were an ankler?”

  Trysten furrowed her brow at the question.

  Clemens laughed, and his cheeks turned pink. “Ankler? I haven’t heard that word in...” He flapped his hand at his side. He nodded. “But yes. I was. My father was a commander in the royal horde.”

  “Ankler?” Trysten asked.

  Galelin chuckled. “It’s an old weyr term. I don’t hear it used in our own weyr, but it refers to the children of hordesmen. They were said to be children until they were ankle-high to their father, as he sat in the saddle. Then they were put to work.”

  “Ah,” Trysten said, nodding. “I guess we have that in common, then.” She smiled at Clemens.

  “Well!” Galelin said and then grasped Clemens’s bicep. “It’s good to have someone to talk to who knows a thing or two about dragons. Come! Let me fix you a cup of tea. You must be thirsty after such a long ride.”

 
; “Thank you,” Clemens said with a nod. “I’d like that very much.”

  As Galelin turned Clemens around and opened the door to the cottage, Aymon and Trysten exchanged a glance and a small smile of relief that the meeting was off to a good start.

  Chapter 5

  It didn’t take long for the two dragon healers to begin sharing tricks of the trade. While they pondered the physiological differences of dragons kept at altitudes such as Aerona compared to the dragons in the mother city, Trysten politely finished her cup of tea and then excused herself.

  As she stood, Prince Aymon excused himself as well and followed her out.

  “They seem to be birds of a feather,” Aymon said as he closed the door behind them.

  “It will certainly make things easier,” Trysten replied, heading for the weyr.

  “Good,” the Prince said, joining her. “I want this village to be able to withstand whatever the Western kingdom throws your way. Now, I would like you to formally introduce me to that Rodden fellow. I want to hear for myself how he is progressing with our language.”

  Trysten shook her head. “There’s not much to hear. He knows polite phrases. He knows how to ask for things to eat or drink. He can say a few simple jokes that the hordesmen taught him. He can recite a simple child’s song, but I doubt he knows what it means.”

  “Then I will hear it all from his mouth. Before I fly my father’s flag into the Western kingdom tomorrow, I want to look my enemy in the eye, hear his voice with my own ears.”

  Trysten stopped and gripped the Prince’s elbow to stall him. He turned and looked at her hand, then up to her with an expression she couldn’t read. Maybe no one had ever done such a thing before. He straightened up quickly, and the look on his face fell away.

  “He’s not our enemy,” Trysten said. “Not anymore.”

  “Oh? I saw him carry pails of water through the weyr. He is a weyrman now, is he?”