Outposts

by Vickie Knestaut

  “Why?” Vanon asked from over Paege’s shoulder. “You got one. Little Yallit there was carrying on so much that we knew something was wrong.”

  “Yallit?” Trysten asked.

  The wild dragon flared his wings, stretched his neck, and hissed in such a fashion that he looked like a caricature of a battle dragon.

  “That’s what Rodden calls him,” Paege said, his expression suddenly sheepish. “It’s caught on.”

  “He’s not a pet,” Trysten said.

  “I knew of a horde in the east of the kingdom that had a wild dragon,” Karno said from just on the other side of the doorway. “They kept him for good luck.”

  “Where did a weyr in the eastern kingdom get a wild dragon?” Trysten asked.

  “Probably from a crabby dragoneer who kept insisting that they’re not pets,” Paege said.

  Chuckles trickled through the crowd of hordesmen behind him. Kaylar’s laugh was among them.

  Trysten shook her head. “Come on. Clear out.” She swept her hands at her hordesmen. “We’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter 24

  After giving the courier her letter to the King and instructions to investigate Cornyn’s claim of being a royal historian, Trysten sent him on his way with an escort of two battle dragons and riders. Paege left with an escort of his own to check on the outpost, and Trysten met with Clemens and Galelin.

  Most of the weyrboys and the hordesmen still in the weyr stopped what they were doing to watch and offer suggestions as Verillium was fitted for the harness of the hammock Clemens had designed. By mid-morning, Clemens stepped back from the magenta dragon and with a flourish, pronounced the contraption ready for a test flight.

  Trysten hid her smile beneath her hand.

  “Looks like an apron,” Brand said as he folded his arms over his chest.

  “I assure you that it will do the job,” Clemens said. “Look.”

  As he went through the awkward motion of placing a foot in the hammock, and then crouching down and sliding himself in, chuckling and whispering broke out among the spectators. Verillium turned her head back and peered down at Clemens, then looked at Trysten as if to make sure this nonsense was acceptable to the Dragoneer.

  “There!” Clemens called after he had nearly disappeared in the fold of cloth that ran from the dragon’s neck to her girth where it was secured with a belt.

  “Snug as a swaddled baby, and safe as can be,” he pronounced.

  “Your butt’s touching the ground,” Brand offered.

  The cloth shifted as Clemens maneuvered inside. “Well, it’ll get your man back here all the same,” he called back, his voice slightly muffled. “Shall we test it? I volunteer to be the patient.”

  Everyone turned to Trysten, who crossed her arms over her chest, then shrugged. “I suppose so. If you’re willing to test it, I am. Kaylar?”

  Kaylar could hardly hold back her grin as she shook her head. “As long as Verillium doesn’t mind.”

  “That settles it, then,” Trysten said. “Saddle her up. But I want a leather cord attached to her harness, and an iron ring secured on the other end. If something should happen to the harness, I want to make sure Clemens has something to hold on to.”

  “If the fall didn’t kill him,” Brand said, “then I think he’d die of embarrassment.”

  “It won’t be necessary,” Clemens said as he pulled down the edge of the hammock and stared out at Trysten, scrunching his shoulders a bit to peer around the dragon’s foreleg. “But it’s a sensible precaution all the same.” He climbed out of the hammock so that Kaylar could saddle her dragon.

  A short time later, Kaylar led Verillium out into the weyr yard with most of the weyr in tow. She pulled herself up into the saddle and looked down at Clemens.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Clemens waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve seen this done a dozen times before. Once, I even helped. I was so impressed with the idea that I never did forget it. It’ll work out just fine.”

  Kaylar shook her head, then glanced up at Trysten and raised an eyebrow as if to ask if she was sure.

  Trysten gave a short, slow nod as she folded her arms over her chest. She very much would like to have Rast back here as soon as possible. Mayem could probably be counted on to care for him until healed, but with rogues and Western soldiers loose in The Wilds, she’d feel better with him convalescing in Aerona.

  “All right, then,” Kaylar said as she looked back to Clemens. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Just like you think it would be done.” Clemens stepped up to Verillium, pulled the fabric of the sling back and started to stick his leg in again as if he were about to put himself in a sack. “As soon as I lay down, take to the air. Fly around a bit, and then land. Easy as anything.”

  Trysten wanted to catch his eye, to know whether or not his expression held all the confidence of his words. But he was already threading himself into the sling.

  Kaylar shook her head, then looked up to the sky as she shifted her posture on the back of Verillium’s saddle.

  Trysten looked around. Yallit sat atop the weyr, watching from a perch a few yards away from the watchtower. His tail flicked behind him. She caught sight of Cornyn standing at the corner of the weyr. A handful of villagers had begun to gather, distracted from their errands by the sight of Verillium’s strange getup. Cornyn stood apart from them, nearly hugging the corner of the weyr as if trying to disappear. He even wore a light gray tunic that blended well with the old, weathered wood of the walls.

  “Ready!” Clemens shouted.

  Trysten turned back as Kaylar hitched her heels against Verillium’s shoulders and yanked back on the lip of the saddle.

  Verillium peered down at her chest briefly, as if confused, unsure of what Kaylar wanted her to do while still wearing the contraption. Humans rode on dragons. Not beneath them.

  But after a parting glance to Trysten, Verillium reared back, then launched herself into the air with a great swoop of her wings that sent bits of straw swirling and skipping across the yard.

  A sound issued from under Verillium. It wasn’t clear if it was a yell of excitement or a gasp of fear. The hammock writhed slightly, and then grew still as Verillium pumped her wings and lifted herself up over the village.

  “Clemens?” Kaylar yelled back. “How are you doing down there?”

  His reply was muffled, and Trysten wasn’t able to make it out. But Kaylar shot her a cautious glance. Trysten signaled for her to start flying a holding pattern.

  Kaylar signaled her acknowledgment, and then passed on the orders to her dragon. As Verillium began to swoop over the village, Trysten turned with the others in the yard to watch. Her eyes strayed down to the villagers who gasped and laughed and pointed fingers. A few hollered out to Trysten and the others and asked what it was all about.

  As Verillium flew out to the west of the village, Trysten glanced to the corner of the weyr. Cornyn was gone, nowhere to be seen. She looked out to the gray bulk of the mountains under the afternoon sun. A dark spot moved in the distance. Dragons. Sone. Paege and his escort were returning.

  Trysten scanned across the sky to Verillium, who flew with steady, careful strokes around the village. Every minute or so, Verillium craned her head back or tucked it under herself to peer at the sling running along her chest and belly. Her sense of unease peppered down to Trysten. She didn’t care for it. Whatever it was the humans were trying to do, it wasn’t the way of dragons. It restrained her too much.

  Trysten signaled for Kaylar’s attention, and when she got it, she did her best to ask if her passenger was all right. Kaylar signaled back an affirmative. Trysten ordered her higher, to try some simple maneuvers, add a little more speed.

  Kaylar acknowledged the order, then pulled back on the lip of Verillium’s saddle while tapping her heels against the dragon’s shoulders, a flicker of movement that Trysten felt herself. She nearly brushed her hand over her chest, just below her shoulders, as if to wip
e away the tickle of Kaylar’s heels.

  As Verillium and Kaylar gained slow, even altitude, Sone and the rest of the escort approached and landed. Trysten jogged up to Paege. As he loosened his safety straps, his hands effortlessly undoing the knots of corded leather, it struck Trysten how he sat in the saddle differently. Paege had always had good posture, as it was often demanded of the children of hordesmen, but he sat straighter, somehow. His beard was full now, and his hair fell to his shoulders. The traces of the boy she had known were being rubbed away by time, and from underneath emerged a hordesman as capable and confident as any she had ever known. At that moment, it struck her that he was no longer merely playing the part of Commander, but was now embracing his place in the horde. Maybe even enjoying it.

  “What’s the word?” Trysten asked.

  Paege looked down at her with a tight face and a hard expression that spoke of bad news. “Jurdun says that the rogues are getting bolder. They attacked last night—”

  “Attacked?”

  “It was a disjointed effort, he said. He had sentries posted, and they saw the attack coming. A small group of men ran through the woods, screaming like demons. They loosed a score or more of arrows at the outpost.”

  “Was anyone hurt?” Trysten asked.

  “One man. He took an arrow to the belly. He lives, but he doesn’t look good.”

  Trysten looked up to Verillium, who was far above the village.

  “Jurdun and the others were able to turn the attackers back, but the attack has rattled them pretty good.”

  Trysten took a deep breath and hung her head for a second. The next time she saw the Original, she wouldn’t hold her blade in the least. She wouldn’t stop until he was right beneath it.

  “Does Jurdun know why they were attacking?” Trysten asked.

  Paege shook his head. “They’re rogues. Thieves. They were probably there to plunder. It is The Wilds, after all.”

  Trysten patted Sone’s side, and it comforted her almost as much as the dragon. “All right. We’ll get some more people out there tomorrow. And we’ll pick up that wounded man.” She pointed at Verillium in the sky.

  “Yeah,” Paege said as he climbed down. “What’s going on up there?”

  “We built the sling. Clemens is up there, inside it.”

  Paege’s face split in a wide grin. “You don’t say.”

  Trysten looked up as well. “We’ll make another one tonight. Kaylar and a few others can go get Rast, and we’ll fit another dragon to bring Jurdun’s wounded man while dropping off a few more volunteers.”

  “A few more volunteers?” Paege asked.

  “We have to get the outpost built. We have orders from the King.”

  “Not that I disagree with you, but you’ve ignored the King’s orders before.”

  A flush of heat passed over Trysten’s face. “I want that outpost built. We need to see what’s going on in the pass. And the fact that the Original told me to keep our people close just makes me even more determined to get it finished. I think there’s something there that he doesn’t want us to see.”

  “Like what?” Paege asked.

  “Like whoever is going through the pass and attacking the Western kingdom in our name,” Trysten said.

  Paege glanced up at Verillium for a second, and then looked back to Trysten. “You truly think they’re behind it?”

  Trysten shook her head slightly, then crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. I think so. I don’t know why, and I don’t know what has changed, but something is going on, and whatever it is, they see me as a threat.”

  She recalled the Original’s claim that she was responsible for it all.

  She looked away, her gaze hitting the side of the weyr, and then bouncing off, up to Verillium, the light color of the sling beneath her, centered between her magenta wings. She was circling now, twisting and sliding on the breeze, allowing the wind and gravity to negotiate her return to the ground as she glided out toward the east.

  Trysten looked back to Paege. He was staring up at Verillium as well, and then looked down at her.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Huh?” Trysten asked, startled slightly as if caught red-handed.

  “What was that? The way you were looking at me?”

  Trysten looked around as a bit of a blush crept over her cheeks. The others in the yard also stared up at Verillium, some shielding their eyes with their hands.

  “Nothing,” Trysten said. “Sorry. I was just noticing how much you’ve changed.”

  “Changed?” Paege asked, his brows drawing together.

  She turned back to him. “It’s nothing. You just... I was noticing how much you look like a real hordesman now.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized how it sounded.

  Paege arched an eyebrow at her.

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you’re...” She held out her palm and gestured at him. “It’s like you’re... Oh, for all the sky. To be frank, Paege, you’ve never been comfortable with this role. You never wanted to be a hordesman, much less a commander. You told me so many times. But ever since the battle, it seems like you’ve taken to it like a dragon to the sky. I mean, look at you. You look every bit the part as much as...” She gestured at the length of him.

  “As my father?” Paege interrupted.

  “I was going to say, my father.”

  Paege looked down to Trysten’s feet for a second, and then back to her eyes. “Funny you should say that. I was just thinking on my way back here about how when I was younger I used to lay in bed at night, and I wouldn’t be able to sleep because I was so angry at my father. I was so mad at him because he died.”

  “Paege—”

  He shook his head. “I was just a boy, and I didn’t understand then. I thought he didn’t love my mother and me as much as he should. If he did, then he wouldn’t have been a hordesman. He wouldn’t have flown with your father and gotten himself killed. If he loved us, he would have stayed home with us. We needed him.”

  “You know that’s not—” Trysten tried to comfort him.

  Paege held up a hand to stop her. “Part of me wanted to be a hordesman because it was expected of me, you know? My duty.” His expression tightened a bit, his face becoming slightly scrunched. “Then the army came. When you told me about the hordes, I was so focused on the army. I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t think. I had never been so scared in my life.” Paege met Trysten’s gaze. “And if you hadn’t called my attention to the hordes coming up behind us, I would not have known they were there until they released their first volley of arrows.”

  He glanced at the toes of her boots, and for a moment he looked a lot like the boy she had known.

  Paege raised his head and met her eyes. “But then something happened. When you told me to take the horde in the north, it just seemed like the most natural thing. Like you had told me to take a deep breath or push the hair out of my eyes. The simplest thing. And I knew that is what had to be done. And so I did it. And to my surprise...”

  He looked away. Trysten’s eyes dropped to his chest, waiting to see him breathe, holding her own breath, and finally, she said, “Paege.”

  He let out his held breath. He looked at her, and the Commander was back. “I led the forces of Aerona into battle. I rode point and called the battle. I directed the wings. You were always the Dragoneer when we played. And finally, the day of the battle, it was my turn to lead. But it was no game. It was the toughest thing I’ve ever done, and if there was any mercy to be had, it was that the battle was over before I even realized it. It took forever, yet it was over almost as soon as it began. I remember it all. In the quiet moments, while I’m riding on the back of Sone, I play that battle over and over in my head wondering how I could have done better. How could I have saved Alea and the others? What could I have done differently?”

  Trysten reached out and placed her hand upon his arm.

  “I’m not
blaming myself,” he said with a shake of his head. “I did the best I could do. And it was good enough. I can do better in the future, but I did my part to save the horde and the village. But those people fell under my command, following orders that I gave. I don’t have access to the dragons like you do. I did it like my father would have done. Like your father would have. And it occurred to me, a few nights after the battle, as I was lying in bed, listening to the fire and staring at the ceiling, that I was no longer angry at my father. I understood. I knew beyond a doubt why he did what he did, and that what he did was the noblest, most selfless and loving thing a person can do. He was a hordesman because he loved us so much, not because he didn’t love us enough.”

  Trysten stepped forward and drew Paege into an embrace and held him tight as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed back.

  “I’m so sorry,” Trysten said into his chest.

  “Don’t be,” Paege replied. His arms fell away from her, and she stepped back to look up at him, her head tilted in question.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. I’m telling you so you know how much... It’s like all you can see is the cairn. The ash. There’s more to it than that for me, and for the others. You’ve given me my father back. Look what you’ve done for Kaylar and Sera and the other female hordesmen. Karno even said that he is grateful to have ended up here. He was getting bored in the mother city. They never did anything worth doing but flex the King’s muscle. But out here, as he put it, a man gets to live. He said he hasn’t felt such a sense of purpose since his children were born.”

  Trysten looked away, unable to take the gaze of his warm, hazel eyes much longer.

  “Trysten?” Vanon called.

  She turned around, taking a deep breath and drawing her shoulders back, stepping out of the moment with her closest friend and becoming the Dragoneer once again.

  Vanon pointed to the east. Verillium approached, heading straight for the yard. Atop her back, Kaylar signaled for caution and pointed to the east, along the banks of the Gul River.