“He knows…” Paege leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice, “… about you?”
“He has a strong suspicion. And as much as he would love to test his theory, he’s not willing to sacrifice the only horde he has. This was always going to end up in me having to go to the mother city.”
“I don’t understand,” Paege said.
Trysten turned to look at him. “The thought of someone who can take a horde so easily, against the will of the riders and over the presence of the beta dragon, is a frightening thing to him. I defy the laws that he lives for, the laws that keep him and his family in power. It makes him nervous.”
Paege shook his head. “Those laws are outdated. That’s all. You would never act against the kingdom. You have sworn to defend it.”
She folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “He’s not interested in my oath of allegiance. He has too much at stake. He’s also faced with the prospect of the Western Kingdom changing strategies. They came screaming out of the mountain passes at the start of an early fighting season. They obliterated the first horde and village they came across with new tactics. And then they stopped. Why?”
Paege gave a slight shrug. “They came up against you, obviously.”
Trysten shook her head. Her brow furrowed. “It doesn’t make sense. New tactics work best before the enemy has a chance to adapt. The Hollin weyr and the whole village was burned to the ground before they could react. Western hordes should be pressing into this kingdom, using that tactic to their full advantage before we can develop a response, and spread the word. Instead, they stopped. They are giving us time to get ready for them.”
She crossed to her chair and sat. “They are deliberately giving up a tactical advantage. Why?” she slapped both palms against her table in frustration. “Something is going on.”
Paege flinched, caught off guard by the force of Trysten’s question. “They decided they should stop before they lose even more dragons to you?”
“Who would have told them that, Paege?” Trysten sighed and ran her hand over her face. “Every Western hordesmen we came across is either buried or imprisoned. Who was left to get word to them? No. Something else is going on. Something big. Something so big that an army is passing up an opportunity to use the most devastating tactics that have been seen in this kingdom for generations.”
Silence spooled out between them. Finally, the floor creaked as Paege shifted his feet. He cleared his throat. “In the meantime, we have some recruits to see to. Do you have a plan for them today?”
Trysten turned back to Paege. “Well, I suppose we should get them up in the air. They can ride with the whole horde, get used to riding in a group.”
“And Darin?”
Trysten sucked in a breath, her lips closed. “We’ll see how he feels.”
Together, Trysten and Paege descended the stairs to the weyr. Kaylar, Alea, and Deslan waited near Elevera. There was no sign of Darin.
As the Dragoneer and her commander approached, the recruits stood at attention. Paege nodded as he passed, moving on to the bunkhouse to rouse the hordesmen, or at least all but the one who was currently being interviewed in Prince Aymon’s tent.
“Is Darin coming?” Trysten asked Deslan.
The young man shook his head as he looked down to Trysten’s knees. “He said he doesn’t want to ride dragons anymore.”
Trysten’s shoulders slumped. She wished she had done a better job by him, had been able to coax him into taking control of the situation and bringing Lorga back to the weyr on his own. Of course, the resulting standoff between the village and Prince Aymon and his hordesmen had not helped matters.
Still, the Prince had agreed to no longer interfere with village matters, and so Trysten needed every able person in the seat of a saddle. Ought she go visit Darin, speak to him?
She thought of the terrified look on his face as he clutched Lorga’s neck. No, she needed to let it go. If he wanted to come back and try again after his twin brother became a hordesman, then she would gladly welcome him back. In the meantime, pushing him would do nothing but frustrate them both.
The recruits reviewed the handling and care of riding tack, and Trysten watched with approval as they saddled up the dragons they had ridden the day before. As Deslan secured the saddle to his mount, Trysten glanced to Lorga, in the next stall. The dragon remained curled up on the straw, exhausted and experiencing mild muscle pain from yesterday’s excitement.
Trysten stretched her arms and back as she told the recruits to take their mounts into the yard. She then explained to the hordesmen that they would be riding with the recruits, practicing basic drills and flight maneuvers.
The hordesmen kept their mild disappointment to themselves, though it was clear from their faces how they felt. They were in for a dull day of basic flight exercises after an exhilarating day of facing down a royal horde. Still, it had to be done. Additional hordesmen were needed, and this was how Trysten had seen her father handle recruits for years.
Without a hitch, the riders of Aerona weyr took to the air and circled over the village. As they did so, Trysten glanced to the patch of ground where the second weyr was to be built. Already, every person available for the work labored at clearing stone from the site while others dug a trench that would become the building’s foundation. It thrilled Trysten to see it starting to take shape. She glanced out to the west where the cutting party had passed on their way to the base of the mountains. Soon they would return with lumber, and construction would begin.
To be safe, Trysten led the horde out a small distance to the north so that dropped items or sudden, unplanned landings would not hurt villagers or damage buildings. There, they took up positions, and Trysten began to order the horde through a series of basic maneuvers.
As they worked, the royal hordesmen exited their tents, saddled up their own dragons, and took to the sky. They rose in a tightly-formed spiral that was quite impressive, then flattened out into a circle. After a series of commands, one rider at a time would pull into the center as the loop was closed behind him. He would then guide his dragon through an undulating course in which he went up, over, around, and then under the dragons forming the circle until he made it back to his starting position. Each hordesman took a turn at flying around the ring. It was precision flying with the dragons keeping tight positions, their wings nearly clipping each other. The royal hordesmen were doing their best to show up the Aerona horde.
Despite the distraction, Trysten focused on her own horde and worked to keep their attention on her. More than once, a hordesman missed a signal while peering at the royal horde, practicing no more than a thousand yards to the east of them, instead of on the other side of the village, which would have been safer and more considerate to the Aerona horde. But, Trysten reminded herself, thinking of others did not seem to be a strong suit of the royal horde. They flew to be seen.
The royal horde kept up their aerial acrobatics all throughout the Aerona horde’s training run. When Trysten brought her horde back to the yard for a rest, the royal hordesmen stayed in the air and continued their stunts while the villagers, those not engaged in work, at least, chatted and watched, hands held up to their faces to block the sun.
Chapter 23
During the break, Tuse found Trysten in the weyr and asked for a moment of her time. She led him up to her den where he sat in the chair at the foot of her table. She remained standing, claiming that she needed to stretch her legs.
“I suppose you heard about the man the Prince sent out last night.”
Trysten nodded as she leaned back against the wall.
“He sent the man out in the dark.”
She nodded again. “A safe approach during the fighting season,” she said.
Tuse took a deep breath, then folded his fingers together and placed his palms on the table. “You can understand, then, why I’m a little concerned about what this might mean.”
“You think he’s calling for reinforcements
?”
Tuse stared a heartbeat longer, then shook his head. “No. I suspect that he was merely sending a report back to his father.”
“Have you asked Prince Aymon about this?” Trysten asked. “It is better to deal with facts than our suspicions.”
The village overseer looked aghast at the thought. “I don’t think that provoking him at this time is a good idea.”
Trysten took a deep breath. “Why would a mere question be seen as a provocation? Did you see the show his hordesmen put on this morning? He certainly doesn’t care about provoking us.”
Tuse nodded. He folded his fingers together and rested his hands upon the table. “A good number of people watched it.”
Trysten glanced out the window. “It was Muzad’s way of letting us know that they are not helpless. It was a threat as well as a show.”
“Which brings up the question I came to ask,” Tuse said, “What promise did you make to Prince Aymon to end the standoff?”
“What makes you think I made a promise at all?”
Tuse’s face grew hard. “I may only be the overseer of a small, insignificant village on the edge of nowhere, but my predecessors trained me in diplomacy nonetheless. I recognize it when I see it. You promised Prince Aymon something to end the standoff. The promise may be between you and the Prince, but I have to know what to expect. I have to know how to prepare the village.”
Trysten regarded him for a moment. She replayed in her mind the conversation she had with Paege that morning. How much could she share with Tuse? How could he prepare for the unknown? How could any of them?
Tuse sat back in his seat. “I don’t really want you to stand there and calculate what you can and can’t tell me. I’ve put my neck on the line for you, Trysten. I would ask that you honor that by telling me the truth, unvarnished and whole.”
Trysten nodded. “I told him that he could finish his investigation, and if he kept from interfering with the village, then I would surrender myself for judgment at the end of the fighting season.”
Tuse crossed his arms over his chest. “You might have consulted with me first.”
Trysten chuckled. “I was a bit busy at the time.”
“Still,” Tuse said as he leaned forward, placed an elbow on the table, and leveled a finger at Trysten. “You may be responsible for the weyr and the defense of this village, but I am responsible for the people of the village. We have invested a lot in you, Trysten. The whole village was ready to come to your aid yesterday. You cannot ignore that. You cannot take that away from these people. You made a deal with Prince Aymon that the village will not allow you to honor. What of that? What will happen when you try to leave at the end of the season?”
Trysten shook her head. “I have no intention of going anywhere at the end of the season.”
Tuse’s hand sank down to the tabletop with a plop. His eyes grew wide in disbelief.
“No, I don’t mean that I will go back on my word. By the end of the fighting season, I intend to show Prince Aymon my value to this village and the kingdom. He will have no choice but to reevaluate the law that he came here to enforce. He will see that the only thing that matters in the weyr is ability. If you can fight and fly, then you fight and fly. And if you can bond with an alpha dragon, then you can be the Dragoneer. Period.”
Tuse considered her a second, then ran a hand down his face. His palm made a scratching sound as it passed over the stubble on his normally clean-shaven chin. “And how do you propose to change his mind?”
Trysten resisted an urge to glance out the window again, to watch for what was coming.
“Raw ability. It is a matter of time before the Western horde strikes again. When they do, the Prince will see first hand what the Aerona horde is capable of. He will be unable to remove me without knowingly diminishing the defenses of the kingdom.”
“That is a rather high opinion of yourself,” Tuse snorted.
“Backed by the prisoners we hold and their dragons in our yard.”
Tuse nodded reluctantly. “I suppose. Still, I can assure you that men of Prince Aymon’s stature don’t see the world the same as you and I do. He’s not looking at you as a potential resource. He is evaluating you as a threat. You challenge the way things have always been and represent a fundamental change in the social order. Men like him strive for the status quo. Change is quite difficult for those who are happy with the way things are.”
Trysten’s jaw tightened. She took a deep breath to loosen it. “I have a feeling that things are about to change dramatically whether I am the Dragoneer or not.”
“Oh?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the window, then looked back to Tuse. “The Western Horde has changed tactics. Things are already different than they have been in past fighting seasons. Prince Aymon will have to admit that soon. When he does, he will realize that he needs as many capable and competent people as he can find to defend the kingdom. He needs the Aerona horde. The day is coming. Mark my word.”
Tuse took a deep breath as if playing for time. He exhaled, then pushed on his knees as he stood from his chair. “Well, I hope you are right about the Prince. But please realize what you have started here in Aerona. Not every villager is pleased to see you as Dragoneer. Enough people are rooting for you that those clinging to the ways of the past are shamed into silence. But if given a chance, the dissenters will speak out. Just keep that in mind. Furthermore, let me be clear that my duty and loyalty are to the people of this village. I cannot have them waging war against the kingdom if they think they must come to your aid. Do not put me in that position.”
Trysten nodded. “It is not my intention.”
Tuse’s face relaxed. “I doubt that anything that has happened here lately is anyone’s intention. We are simply dealing with the situation being handed to us. But I cannot and will not involve the village in an insurrection against the King. Understood?”
Trysten nodded, then felt slightly embarrassed for doing so. It wasn’t as if Tuse was her superior. The Village Overseer and the Dragoneer were considered equals, each with specific powers and jurisdictions.
“Best of luck to you, then,” Tuse said. “I will be the first to cheer the day you put Prince Aymon and his men in their place for good.”
With that, Tuse left the den. As soon as the door closed behind him, Trysten turned her attention to the window once more.
Chapter 24
The following morning, Trysten woke with a start from a disturbing dream.
The dragons were fine, although a bit agitated. Trysten could sense it. She dressed quickly and stepped out of the cottage into the predawn shadows. The village was quiet, the sky to the west calm. Light, low clouds spattered across the sky, their edges pink and white against the dark blue, fading night.
As she approached the weyr, she noticed the royal dragons fidgeting in the weyr yard. They turned and looked at her, their heads swaying. They shuffled their wings, extending them out partway, then folded them back again. Trysten stopped to watch them for a moment, and they seemed to settle somewhat. They were beautiful creatures, even if not her own.
A royal hordesman sat on a stool beside a fire, holding his palms to the flames as he watched Trysten cross to the weyr entrance. The unease of the dragons and a night spent alone on watch appeared to have the man on edge as well.
Inside the weyr, the Aerona dragons turned to Trysten. They seemed relieved, as if they had been concerned for her while she slept.
“It was only a dream, Elevera,” Trysten whispered as she stepped up to her dragon and held out a palm.
The gold alpha lowered her head and nuzzled Trysten’s hand. With her other hand, Trysten reached into the pocket of her tunic and wrapped her fingers around the dragon tooth pendant.
“Let’s go for a ride. We’ll take a look and see that everything is fine, won’t we?”
Elevera rubbed her muzzle once against Trysten’s outstretched palm as if agreeing with her.
The sun was nearin
g the horizon as Elevera leaped into the sky. Her great, gold wings scooped up the last bit of night air and thrust it beneath her. She rose into the dawn breaking across the village and drifted slightly to her left without any observable input from Trysten. With slow, steady wing beats, they made their way to the old burial grounds where Trysten had found the pendant.
As the sun painted the hillsides that ran between the Wilds and Aerona, Trysten tried to shake the remnants of her nightmare. The Second Hordesmen had returned for her, but they were not the men she had fought. They were skeletal and scaly at the same time, not men even, but creatures. Their hands became claws when they lifted them. Their mouths morphed into dragon maws when they shrieked.
Trysten shuddered. She felt exposed and wanted to curl up in the nook between Elevera’s wings and hide from all the world below.
An uneasy rumble escaped Elevera, deep in her chest. It reverberated through Trysten’s bones. She patted the dragon on the bit of shoulder that extended beyond the lip of the saddle.
Then the sun poured over a hill and lit the tops of the burial cairns below like dozens of tiny, dull jewels scattered across the rocky landscape.
Trysten’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands gripped the saddle until the color bled from her knuckles. She leaned forward a bit, and Elevera responded by drifting down, steadying her wings as she glided to the shadowy ground.
Even before they landed, Trysten saw that something wasn’t right. She unfastened her safety straps and slid free of the saddle as soon as Elevera’s claws met the ground. She stared for a moment at a pile of scattered stones, trying to make sense of it before she gave up and accepted it for what it was—a raided grave.
Elevera snorted. A rush of air and a hiss accompanied a lick of flame that left her snout. Trysten approached the grave. She reached into her pocket and wrapped her chilled fingers around the pendant. Her boots crunched over freshly-turned stones. The scents of dirt and rock filled the air.
The Dragoneer Trilogy Page 42