Mercedes Lackey - Aerie

by Aerie (lit)

  And none of them mattered. She had wanted this badly enough that she had found a way to make it happen and arguments for and against it were useless. The thing had happened; there were lady Jousters. Now they must deal with the complications and consequences.

  But she was still staring fixedly in her mind at her arguments.

  The more she talked, the quieter he became; the quieter he became, the more she talked, until finally she had repeated every one of her arguments at least three times. It almost seemed as if she needed to fill the silence, as if the very silence was an argument against her.

  It made no sense, of course. No sense at all. He found himself getting angry with her for being angry that he had not argued against her. It was stupid.

  But so was his anger, and anyway he was too tired to sustain it.

  At last she seemed to realize that the complaint had gone on more than long enough. She finally stopped, hands on hips. He couldn't see her face in the darkness, but he could see her silhouette. She was still angry, angry over nothing, essentially.

  "Well?" she said belligerently, daring him to raise one of his counterarguments.

  Not a chance he would do that.

  Oh, no.

  It might be time to try to placate her. Strange, that all the practice he'd been getting in handling his Jousters seemed to be giving him some ability to deal with her…

  At least, he hoped it was.

  The soft breeze that always soughed through the Dragon Courts brushed against his skin, and he took advantage of the darkness and clamped and unclamped his jaw to ease some of the tension.

  "You seem to have everything well in hand," he said, in as neutral a tone as possible. He really could not agree with her wholeheartedly. Not even halfheartedly. He saw far too many ways in which her brilliant plan was going to make everything worse, not better. She didn't want to hear anything of that nature; she would see his counters, not as things to be taken into account and to find answers for, but as reasons why she had been wrong. And if he agreed falsely with her, he had the feeling she would know he was being false. So the best he could manage was neutrality.

  Evidently that wasn't good enough.

  "Fine," she said waspishly, then turned on her heel and left, stalking off into the lit walkway between the pens, anger evident in every movement.

  He sighed. Well, there it was. She'd had her argument. She had, in a sense, won it. But she hadn't won it in the way she had wanted to, and now she was angrier still. He had the sinking feeling that no matter what he said or did now, unless he came to her on his knees, saying that she had been absolutely right, that he had been absolutely wrong, and that he begged her forgiveness, nothing he said or did was going to ease her anger.

  And he didn't even know why she was so angry with him, not really.

  All he could think of was, I am glad I am not depending on her for a dinner, or I would be eating Avatre's scraps.

  Which was about the most sensible thing that could be said at this point.

  He petted Avatre a little while longer to calm his nerves. The cooling breeze off the desert was very soothing, and the sounds of the baby dragons somewhere nearby made him smile. However she had gotten these little ones, it was a fair bet that they would have died had she not fetched them out of the desert, so that was good. In fact, he found himself curious about that, then curious about these new lady Jousters. No matter what, Aket-ten would not have taken featherheaded lack-wits for her Jousters, nor would she have risked precious babies with girls who would not care for them as deeply as she did. He waited while the night sounds of a Dragon Court soothed him, let the breeze cool his own frustration, let the smooth feel of Avatre's slick-scaled head under his hands bring him back to an even temper, then took himself to the old Jousters' quarters, curious to see what the changes were.

  Strange to be back here, where the place was so familiar and yet so unfamiliar. The pens, the passageways between them, were all roofless, but the walls were tall and thick enough that no dragon could reach over them to savage another. It gave the same impression, actually, as the city of tombs. The pens all had canvas covers that could be pulled over them to protect the hot sands of the dragon wallows from becoming hot sand soup during the season of rains. And each section, where the corridors intersected, was denoted by enormous paintings of gods and sacred animals that seemed to stir a little with life in the flickering light from the torches that had been placed in sconces at intervals along the walls.

  The silence was what struck him. Except for the section where his Avatre, Aket-ten's Re-eth-ke, Ari's Kashet, Nofret's The-on, the four courier dragons and the babies were, the place was echoingly empty. As he moved toward the Jousters' Courts, the rooms arranged around simple but attractive courtyards that had once held all the Jousters of Tia, he wondered what it would be like to hear the Dragon Courts full again.

  It was somewhat unnerving to hear the chatter and giggle of feminine voices coming from the Jousters' Courts. The first court, lit only by one torch, and by the dim light of a lamp shining in five of the eight sets of rooms was the one where his usual quarters were. By the presence of the lamps, that was where the four couriers from Aerie had been housed. He had intended to ask his fellows where he might get some food, but instead, he followed his ears to the spill of light marking the door to the second court when he realized that there were a few male voices among the females.

  He smiled as he did so. He should have known, of course. These were young men for whom there were, as yet, very few young women in Aerie. The closest place to find female companions was Sanctuary, which was a good half-day's flight away. They would have gravitated to Aket-ten's girls like bees to flowers.

  He stepped into the doorway and paused, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He found his four couriers and eight young ladies, all of them in the standard linen tunics his own Jousters wore at this time of year. They were sitting to one side of the ornamental latas pool, with dishes and cups and beer jars scattered among them. Their chatter fell silent as they saw him in the doorway, and his four couriers jumped to their feet and saluted him.

  As the young women looked uncertain, as if they were not sure if they should do the same, he waved at his couriers to sit back down. "Jousters, be easy," he said. :'l am not here to inspect you. There was some important news that I needed to deliver in person, and now I am merely a weary and hungry fellow like yourselves."

  The young ladies relaxed as his Jousters sat down. He walked over to them and took a place on the pavement of the court among them.

  "I trust you left something for me?" he said, with a smile. The young ladies giggled or tossed their heads, and began to pass plates and an unopened jar of beer to him. It looked exactly like the meals he used to get when he was a dragon boy here, tending to Kashet and Ari. Strips of cooked meat, flatbreads, onions, greens, thick, soured milk to use as a sauce, beer and honey cakes. It smelled wonderful, and his mouth watered as they passed the plates to him.

  He made a tolerable meal, although the meat was cold. Still, it wasn't dried, which was a distinct improvement over what he got at Aerie. Fresh bread was always very welcome, and as for the honey cakes… he quite forgot Aket-ten's tantrum in his enjoyment of them.

  When his hunger was finally sated, he looked around at the company. The torches around the courtyard itself and the little lamps placed on the rim of the latas pool cast a pleasing, warm light. He found himself approving of the girls as he examined them. Despite the giggles, none of them acted silly or too girlishly. All had done something equally sensible; they had cut their hair very short, right at chin level. All appeared to be Tian, with the darker skin tone than Altans had. That was a curious choice—but then again, there were not many Altans here in Mefis, so perhaps Aket-ten had no choice…

  None were wearing any jewelry fancier than a faience amulet on a leather thong or a string of faience beads. A glance at their hands told him they were no strangers to hard work. This was all very encouraging.
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  Finally, one of them got up, waved cheerfully to all of them, and left. At his curious glance, one of the other young women offered, "We have all the babies together in one pen, and we take it in turns to sleep with them through the night. That way everyone gets to sleep in a bed seven out of eight nights."

  He blinked. Why hadn't he thought of that? It was the one complaint his young Jousters had about baby tending. Not everyone was as slavishly devoted to the welfare of a sleeping infant dragon that would not wake and would scarcely even stir all night long as he had been…

  Then again, they were with their babies all day long. He'd not had that luxury. He'd only had stolen moments with Avatre among all his other chores, and every moment he had been able to spend with her had been precious to him. So it rightly wouldn't seem as urgent to any of them to be with their babies at night as long as someone was with the babies.

  "It's a good idea," one of the boys said defensively. They all looked at him as if they expected him to object.

  He sighed. When did everyone get the idea that he was a crocodile? "I never said it wasn't," he replied wearily. "In fact, I think it is a very good idea. Just because I spent my sleeping hours with Avatre when she was a baby, it doesn't follow that it's a sensible idea. Well, it was sensible for me, but only because I was afraid she might be discovered if I left her alone. That's hardly anything any of you will ever need to worry about."

  Several of the girls exchanged speaking glances, and one of them said, with a lopsided grin, "I told you he couldn't be the soul devourer that Aket-ten said he'd be."

  Oh. So this reputation was Aket-ten's doing…

  "I devour neither souls nor babies," he said firmly. "A good honey cake, though, stands no chance with me." And to prove it, he boldly reached for the last and ate it in three bites.

  Whatever motive Aket-ten had in darkening his reputation, now he was feeling rather annoyed with her. He then set about firmly countering the image by simply being pleasant. He supposed she must have warned them all that he was going to object to their presence, their mere existence, and probably be aggressive about it.

  On the surface, there was very little to object to. The Queen's Wing had the blessing and patronage of Nofret, and if the Great Queen preferred to have a wing of dragon couriers rather than a temple in her name, no one was going to dare say her nay. Aket-ten had found a way on her own to get baby dragons without depriving any of the men waiting for one—

  Come to think of it, he was very curious about that, though, wondering just where and how she had gotten them.

  —and the Great Queen's patronage ensured that the wing got support without taking anything from the existing Jousters. Aket-ten had found sensible young women who were not only capable of taking care of their dragons, but were actually better suited to the task than the young men, by virtue of their ability to understand animals and make themselves understood by them.

  I must find young men who can do that… Surely that particular ability was not confined to females.

  As to whether or not they would actually work out as couriers, there was no saying. They probably wouldn't have difficulty with the hard work, but the flying itself—not everyone took to it.

  It looked as if she was finding them something they could do, that would actually free the male Jousters to counter the bandit threat. That could only be good for Aerie and the Jouster Wings there.

  So really, there was overtly nothing to object to, and he wasn't about to bring up.

  Other than that… he was not stupid. It was fairly clear that the duties of training both dragons and girls were going to keep Aket-ten here. Which meant that the chances of his getting her to move back to Aerie were nonexistent. Maybe part of the reason she was angry was because she knew that.

  Curses.

  "Where and how did Aket-ten get nine dragons?" he asked into a lull in the conversation, going to great pains to sound interested and approving rather than accusatory.

  "She scouted the nests," said one, who had been very quiet until now, and had sat a little apart from the others. "When eggs were abandoned, she had them brought back here to hatch. That was where my dragon came from. And as for the rest, she continued to watch the nests, and had some of the old dragon-hunters come and take babies that had been abandoned, or the weakest of the nestlings when it was clear that one or more was not getting enough food to thrive."

  Clever, and he hadn't thought of that. He had just taken it for granted that out of a hatch it was likely that there would be failures and let it go at that. This made sense. Especially if he could find young men among his Jouster candidates who shared Aket-ten's power… he could do the same.

  He continued to ask the girls questions, not just about their dragons and how they were taking to life as young Jousters, but about their former lives as priestesses. He didn't have to feign interest; he was interested, and he got the impression that his four young couriers were no little annoyed with him for taking all of the girls' attention.

  Well, let them be annoyed. He would be gone tomorrow, and they would have the young women all to themselves again. In fact, it was rather amusing to see which one of them got annoyed over which young lady. And which young lady cast a glance at which young man when he spoke to her. It wasn't long before he had who was interested in whom fairly well sorted out.

  This was going to make for some complicated times, especially as rivalries were definitely a potential. He was just as glad that he wasn't going to be the one to have to deal with them.

  Oh, yes. Hurt feelings, jealousy, broken hearts … let Aket-ten deal with that particular aspect of having female Jousters. True, he had not anticipated those problems either, but she was the one that had wanted females in the first place. He made a mental note that if Ari asked for any more couriers, to find a reason why he should not send them.

  Not that he wanted his Jousters to do without female company! By no means!

  But life was complicated enough with the possibility of quarrels over young women when those young women were not Jousters. The dreadful ramifications of having to sort out female Jousters fighting over males, and vice versa—add to that the sensitivity of the dragons themselves to the emotions of their riders—it made his head spin. He was beginning to understand why the old-style Jousters had been discouraged from anything but the most trivial of affairs and trysts with "flute girls."

  Let it all be on Aket-ten's head.

  Petty revenge, maybe, but she had made him out to be a monster of sorts, and then she had gone tearing off in a temper when he hadn't said a word against her new Jousters.

  But… he should have a word with his fellows, before he left. Something. Warn them about letting women get in the way of their duty or—

  He'd think of something.

  Actually, after a moment of listening and staring at the little flame of a lamp, he realized that he wasn't thinking of anything. Well, a bath perhaps.

  Should he tell them about the dead border guard?

  Perhaps—no, not yet. It might be nothing. It still could turn out to be nothing. It might have been the tragic result of a private quarrel. There was simply no way to tell.

  He realized after a moment that he had fallen silent while the others kept chattering on. All but one, that one girl that sat apart from the others.

  Now that he had food in him, he wasn't as tired as he had thought. And a bath was beginning to feel like a good idea. He excused himself and walked into the shadows, into the next courtyard, aiming for the rooms he generally used as his own when he overnighted here. There were no torches burning in this court, and only a single lamp in each of the rooms assigned to him, but he really didn't need much light. As he had hoped, the bath jars were all full, everything he needed in readiness, a clean kilt and loinwrap laid out on the bed. Whatever Aket-ten thought of him, the servants knew their jobs, and were not letting him go unattended.

  He felt much more human after a good bath, and not quite ready to go to sleep. But he al
so didn't feel much like going back to the group he had just left. He stood in his own doorway for a moment, looking in the direction of the pens, wondering if he ought to go look in on Avatre, when a movement in the deep shadows beside the pool in this court made him start and bite back an exclamation.

  And that in turn startled the person in the shadows who jumped and squeaked.

  "It's all right!" he said hastily. "Don't be alarmed—"

  As he said that, it occurred to him how much things had changed since the Magi were gone. A few moons ago, he would have gone into a defensive crouch, perhaps even called for help, certain that whoever was there was a spy set by the Magi, or one of the Magi themselves.

  A breathless laugh answered him. "It is I who should be begging your pardon, Lord of the Jousters," said the quiet young woman who had sat a little apart from the rest, apologetically. She got up and walked toward him, into the faint, warm glow of the lamp behind him. "I often come here when the chatter of the others goes on a little too long," she added. "They are kind, and quite friendly, but they all come from the same circle, and they—" Now she hesitated. "I know that we are to think of ourselves as one Kingdom now, but I cannot help saying—they are Tian."

  Now that she had said more than a few words, he knew her accent. "And we are Altan," he agreed. Even after all these many moons of working with the Tian Jousters… there was still that sense of "us" and "them." He suspected it would take years, perhaps even tens of years, for that to leave them.

  It was a very good thing that Ari was a patient man.

  "And I am the daughter of a farmer, and they were priestesses," she sighed. "I know that rank does not matter among Jousters, but… they speak of things of which I have no knowledge, of rituals and ceremonial things, of powers, and the people who have them. I only know how to bake bread and make beer."