She swallowed the urge to grunt in frustration. “Understand? I understand that this is unfair. If someone had denied Father something he should have, then he’d go take it. He wouldn’t stand by and do nothing. He’d act. He’d do exactly what I did.”
Caron gave a short nod. “He would. But he’s the Dragoneer. You are not.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with me being the Dragoneer?” She held up the tassel. “I’ve proven myself.”
The door opened behind her. Trysten dropped the tassel to her waist.
“Why do dragons obey us?” Trysten’s father stepped inside the cottage and shut the door, snapping the floor with his staff.
Trysten looked over her shoulder.
“I asked you a question,” Mardoc continued as he proceeded to the table before the hearth. He sat hard in his chair. Its wooden legs cracked the floor, and his face tore itself into a terrible grimace as his eyes squeezed shut. He took a deep breath, grasped his right knee, and rubbed it a bit. Caron took several steps forward, then stopped as if she were a dog on a rope.
“Trysten?” her father asked again.
She looked to the floor. Might there be someplace to hide, someplace to escape that look? She wasn’t sure why the dragons obeyed them. She had hints, got impressions from time to time, but why they stayed in the weyr and responded to the commands of humans was lost on her. She gave a shrug.
Caron finally stepped forward and took the staff from her husband. She placed it in the corner of the room. “Can I get you a bowl of stew?” she asked.
Mardoc nodded without looking to her. His eyes remained focused squarely on Trysten. “The dragons obey us because there is a bond that is formed between the Dragoneer and the alpha. There is a relationship there. It is deeper than anyone can know. It is unlike the relationship I have with your mother, or even with you, and you are a part of me. The relationship I have with Aeronwind is beyond love. It is beyond loyalty. It is formed by the last bonds shared between the gods and us. It is the last reminder of their work, of their labor, of the gifts they left us before all was destroyed. Aeronwind obeys me because she cannot stand to disappointment me, and she trusts me because she knows that I will never hurt her needlessly or carelessly. And since she obeys me, and the other dragons of the horde obey her, then they obey me as well. The horde cannot turn on its alpha. The horde is one heart, one mind. The horde cannot turn on Aeronwind any more than your hand can decide on its own to tear out your heart.”
Trysten glanced to the floor. This was true. Elevera felt deeply about Aeronwind, and she felt deeply about Mardoc precisely because he belonged to Aeronwind.
“Trust is the heart of what it means to be a dragoneer.” Mardoc reached down, placed the butt of his palms on either side of his chair, and shifted his position. His face wrenched into pain again and Trysten found herself gritting her teeth and holding her breath.
“How can I name you as Dragoneer if I cannot trust you to obey me?”
“But you wouldn’t even let me try.”
“To what end? Aside from it being against the law, you did try today. You tried even though I forbid it. You shot arrows into a formation. Those arrows could have pierced a wing. They could have killed a rider.”
“I wasn’t even close—”
“You were lucky. A sudden gust. If Ulbeg had lurched or shifted unexpectedly at the moment before you released an arrow, then your shots could have gone wide. They could have hurt someone, or worse. That was bad enough, but you ignored Paege’s order to ground. He was flying beta. He is the horde’s commander. When in the air, you always obey the horde commander. To top it off, after Elevera tried to ground Ulbeg, you egged him on. You have damaged that bond of trust between Ulbeg and Elevera. She will be the new alpha before long, and Ulbeg will depend upon her as all the dragons depend on the alpha. You damaged that trust by forcing that dragon to act against the wishes of the beta.”
“She what?” Caron asked. “She forced Ulbeg to act against Elevera? How is that possible?” She studied Trysten, then looked at her husband.
Mardoc held his hand up, stopping Caron’s questions. “This is why I denied you a chance to compete. I feared that something like this would happen. You don’t act in a respectful manner towards the dragons. You never have. I know it is my fault, and I often looked the other way, but I see now—”
“What do you mean I don’t treat them in a respectful manner?” Trysten’s blood sparked through her veins. Few things could dig under her skin and explode like such an accusation. “I…” Words failed her. How could she defend against something so obviously false? “Those dragons…” and her mouth hung there, her jaw open and slack like a branch broken from a tree, but not quite snapped clean.
What had she to lose? Trysten straightened her back. “I hear them. I look into their eyes, and I know what it is they are feeling, what they are thinking. I know them better than anyone in the village knows them. How can you say that I don’t respect them?”
Mardoc leaned forward a bit. “I didn’t say that you didn’t know them. You’ve grown up in the house of dragons. I would expect nothing less from you than familiarity. But perhaps it is such familiarity that led you to this action, that you convinced yourself that you could do what you did, that you were in the right when all you have done is complicate an already difficult situation in addition to injuring Ulbeg and threatening his position in the horde. We need every dragon. What if Elevera rejects him when she becomes alpha.”
“She won’t.”
Mardoc raised an eyebrow. “And how is it that you can be so sure of such a thing?”
“I know her. And she knows me.” Again the words trailed off. How could she convince her father that she knew that Elevera respected her in the way that a dragon respects the bonded human? Elevera would not reject Ulbeg because Trysten would not allow it. But there was no point in saying such things. To her father, it was the ravings of a young girl, nothing more than a flight of fancy. He wouldn’t believe her because to do so would be to admit that she had a connection with the dragons that he did not, and his connection to the dragons could not be surpassed. He was the Dragoneer after all.
No, it was best to let it drop. And so her hands fell to her sides again. Her gaze scudded to the floor before her father’s feet. There was nowhere to go. There was nothing to say or do at this point. It was all over. She had taken her chance, and she had succeeded in proving herself, but still, it wasn’t enough.
Mardoc sighed. He planted an elbow on the table and wiped his palm across his mouth before running his fingers through the length of his beard. “Trysten, I want you to know that I love you. You are my daughter. You are my family. I am not upset with you as much as I am upset with your actions. You disobeyed my order. You took a risk that could have injured you. It could have killed you. And it did injure one of our dragons. It may be a minor injury, but it is an injury all the same. I want you to see that this is exactly why I have forbidden you from the consideration, not as the Dragoneer, but as your father. It may not seem like it, and you may not believe it, but I know you better than I know any of the dragons out there. You are a strong, smart, young woman, but along with those vibrant characteristics, comes stubbornness, willfulness. These are characteristics that need to be tempered. They will be tempered with age, but as you have demonstrated today, that age is not today’s age.”
Trysten looked up at her father and willed herself not to shed a tear. She blinked back the water gathering in her eyes.
“My decision stands. I hope with some time and reflection, you can see the wisdom of my actions.”
Trysten nodded. She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.”
“I understand. If a nip on the tail is the worst that comes of this, then it will be well-worth the lesson. You may go,” her father said with a nod to the door.
As Trysten turned, her mother called out. “Trysten, little heart, I am still waiting on
those hares.”
Trysten’s shoulders slumped as she reached for the door handle. “Yes, Mother,” she said. “I’ll go get them now.”
The truth was, venting her anger and frustration through the bow sounded like a good idea.
Chapter 11
Trysten stood upright as she clutched the shaft of an arrow that still held the hare it had pierced. From the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of Paege descending the slope from the village. He moved at a relaxed and slow pace along the trail. His eyes were locked on hers, but nothing about his demeanor or movement showed that he was in a hurry. He also wasn’t slinking up to the bank of the river as if he were looking to offer her an apology, either.
“How’s the hunting?” Paege called out.
“I preferred the doves,” Trysten called back as she grabbed the hare’s skull and pulled her arrow free. She laid the hare in a pile with two others and wiped the shaft of the arrow with a rag. She turned away from Paege, slotted the notch of the arrow back onto the string, and scanned the brush for movement as she took several steps forward.
“I wanted to let you know that Ulbeg will be fine,” Paege continued. His voice was closer. The grasses rustled as he moved through them at a quicker pace.
She glanced over her shoulder, and Paege immediately slowed down. He was out of his riding armor, wearing wool pants and a dark green sweater that Trysten’s mother had knit for him for the peace season celebration the year before. “I knew he would be. Elevera just wanted to check him. You should fly him more often. In the battle drills, I mean. He enjoys it.”
Paege closed the remaining distance between them. “He’s a bit small for battle.”
Trysten reached down and rubbed her palm over the braid that stuck out from the waistband of her pants.
Paege’s eyes followed hers. He let out a nod as a bit of color flooded his cheek. His face froze, and his eyes quivered a bit as if he was scanning a collection of things he might say.
“My father doesn’t allow me back in the weyr. Not until you’re the Dragoneer.”
Paege’s facial features crunched up a tiny bit, a wince. “I told you to go to ground. I didn’t want this to happen.”
“Why didn’t you go to ground, then?” Trysten asked.
Paege ran his tongue along his teeth. “How could I? I’m supposed to be leading the horde now. Or soon.” He glanced behind himself as if to see whether or not the distant mountains had snuck up on him while he wasn’t looking. “Galelin says that Aeronwind won’t make it to the next fighting season. And even if she did, your father…” His gaze fell as if mentioning Mardoc’s injury was an insult to Trysten.
“How can you lead the horde if a courier dragon can take your tassel?” Trysten regretted the comment as soon as it left her mouth. She swallowed as Paege winced, struck by her words.
He took half a step back, almost as if to physically recover from a blow. “I didn’t want to hurt you. It wasn’t a real battle. It was just an exercise. Ulbeg wouldn’t stand a chance if Elevera decided to force him down.”
Although the tang of regret hung on her like wood smoke, Trysten still cocked an eyebrow. Her lips parted. She closed them again, and then looked up to the weyr.
To the wilds with it. “So you had that much control over Elevera? You could keep her from forcing Ulbeg to ground?”
Color flushed over Paege again. His fair skin betrayed every flicker of emotion that ran through him. He was like an ember that blushed with the slightest breeze. He looked straight at her. The hazel of his eyes became a hard gem, rather than the colors of the soft lichens that grew upon the stones. “It will come. Not all of us have the advantage of being the Dragoneer’s daughter. Some of us didn’t grow up around these dragons, and we have to work a lot harder.”
“Paege, you at least get to work at it. You are expected to be the Dragoneer. It is being handed to you, and my father won’t even let me into the consideration. At least you get to work hard. I’m not allowed to work at all!”
Paege drew in a deep breath. His mouth tightened. It was similar to an expression that he would get when they were younger when he had had it with her teasing and was about to storm off home after swearing he was never going to play with her again.
He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Are you going to tell me it isn’t fair?”
Trysten’s grip tightened on the bow. She would want Paege to go away if it meant she could head up to the weyr and slip into Elevera’s stall, to curl up against that great, heaving chest of hers. If she could lay her head against that wall of muscle and hear the whoosh of air through her lungs and feel the smooth scales on her cheek, all would be better. Everything would be tolerable. She was cut off from that, however. Cut off until Paege succeeded her father. Oh! Her brows furrowed a bit. He was a clever man. The sooner Paege could bond with Elevera, the sooner Trysten could see her as well.
A look of concern grew on Paege’s face. It caught her off guard. It wasn’t what she normally expected once he started to look frustrated. It was new in him, something she hadn’t seen before. It was adult enough to be eerie.
“I’m sorry,” Trysten shook her head. “I know it’s nothing personal. I know you’re just doing what you have to do. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
Paege nodded. A slight grin crept onto his face. “If it were up to me, I’d allow you into the consideration. By the wilds, after the way you flew today, I’ll be begging you to join my hordesmen.”
Despite herself, Trysten grinned. “My father wouldn’t care for that.”
Paege shrugged. His smile widened. “Once I’m Dragoneer, who’s going to tell me no?”
The thought of flying with the hordesmen thrilled her. She had gone for flights before, for pleasure or to locate lost sheep, but those flights had been steady, regular. The flying done on the back of Ulbeg this morning had been different, like dreaming of flying for all of her life, and then one day discovering that she could actually fly. Though she had used her heels and the lip of her saddle to control Ulbeg, it felt as if the motions were nothing more than empty gestures to be completed as a matter of ceremony. Ulbeg had responded as if he were an extension of her legs and arms. She needed to do no more than think of taking to the sky, of pushing up towards the belly of the clouds before the might of Ulbeg was propelling her upwards.
“Will you do it?” Paege asked.
“Don’t make me wish for the Western Kingdom to breach the pass.”
Paege glanced over his shoulder again as if checking on the pass. Clouds swirled around the hidden peaks. The ceaseless winter storms that formed the border between the two kingdoms still raged. The enemy remained bottled up, and Paege was safe for the time being.
His attention shifted to the hill above them. “Is that Yahi?”
Trysten followed his gaze. A woman trod steadily down the path. The wind off the mountains whipped her dark hair and scarlet dress off to the side and highlighted her bony frame.
“Trysten!” Yahi called. She lifted a thin arm and waved.
“Yahi!” Trysten called back.
The woman continued to pick her way down the slope. Once she reached the bottom of the hill, she stood a moment and watched the wind press the grass into undulating shapes that rolled over the narrow meadow between herself and the mountains. Whether she saw what she was looking for or not, she tucked her long hair back behind her ears and picked her way over to Trysten.
“I saw your flight today!” Yahi said through a great grin. “Half of the village saw it, I think. That was incredible!”
Her eyes flicked to Paege, who returned a thin smile that betrayed his discomfort. He glanced to the tassel in Trysten’s waistband as the wind stirred it.
“Thanks,” Trysten said. “Half the village saw it?”
The older woman beamed and nodded. “Word was out that your father had gone to the weyr today, the first time since the accident. I think everyone was curious to see what the horde would do in
response. No one expected you, though! Surely you gave Paege a run for his life.”
Paege nodded. His hands strayed to the small of his back. It was difficult to think of him ever becoming the Dragoneer. Her own father would never stand in such a way. Did he ever? Was he ever Paege’s age? When his grandfather began to groom him for the position, was he ever not ready to take the village sword to the air?
“I’m afraid I was acting a little foolishly,” Trysten said.
“Nonsense! That was a brilliant bit of flying! And it was on the back of Ulbeg, was it not? I thought he was a courier dragon. It surprised me to see him in the air. For a short while, word was out that we had a new dragon in the horde, though I don’t know how we could get one without everyone noticing.”
Trysten blushed. “No, it was Ulbeg. I…” Trysten let out a puff of frustrated breath. “Thanks, Yahi. I appreciate it, but it really was nothing. I shouldn’t have even done it. I’m afraid I didn’t really do anything more than make a nuisance of myself.”
Yahi grinned, then glanced to the mountains. She studied them for a moment, then turned her attention back. Her grin faded.
“Is everything all right?” Paege asked Yahi.
She nodded, then pushed her hair back behind her ears again. The wind immediately lifted it out and sent it whipping about her head. “I think so. Something is going on in the clouds. They look different than usual.”
Trysten turned her attention to the clouds as well. They looked solid, like a batch of gray tallow just before it hardened. They looked the same as they always did in the late winter to her.
“How so?” Paege asked.
Yahi tucked her hair behind her ears and studied the clouds a minute longer. She shook her head. “I can’t say at the moment. Something is changing.”
Paege shifted his weight. He planted his hands upon his hips, then folded his arms over his chest, restless. “Do you think we’ll have a longer season of peace this year?”
The Dragoneer Trilogy Page 7