Shortly before dusk, Dorjan galloped into the courtyard. We came together around the kitchen table for final discussions before our departure. He repaired my dragon scale boots that were a gift from him and Eshshah. On our last quest one of them was destroyed by the monster I called the black creature — whose image is now etched into my ankle. Dorjan inspected my helmet and breastplate, and pronounced them flawless.
Finally, he unveiled his masterpiece. He brought out a silk satchel and made a dramatic showing as he pulled out the solution to our entire quest.
“Is that a cow’s bladder?” I asked.
His face dropped in mock disappointment and then he burst out in his boisterous laugh. “Correct, Amáne. But it’s not just any cow’s bladder. I’ve been working for weeks to develop a paint that would stay on the bladder when inflated or deflated. Allow me to demonstrate.”
He put his mouth on the opening and started blowing it up. “Keep going until it reaches the size egg that Eshshah chooses. You’ll find their sizes vary.”
“I hope she finds one of the smaller eggs of her royal line,” I said.
Dorjan continued, “Once it’s the same size, you tie it off like this and wrap this small weight around the knot. Place it in the exact spot as the real egg.”
“Wow, Dorjan, that’s ingenious. It looks exactly how I remember Eshshah’s egg.”
“You’ll put the real egg in this satchel, throw it over your shoulder and high-tail it out of there to the Castle Outpost where Eshshah and Bern will be waiting.”
We all agreed it was a fantastic plan.
Besides my personal essentials, and Dorjan’s handiwork, I packed some travel cakes and a skin of water. The Healer made sure that I put in my cap and a couple of white tunics — the rider candidates were to dress only in white. My spear leaned against the kitchen wall and I had a sword on my belt in addition to my dagger. Gallen had already saddled Eshshah. Everything was ready to go.
We all met in the courtyard. The Healer helped me with my breastplate as she and I both sang a song of an ancient battle in hopes for a successful mission. I wrapped my hair on top of my head and put my helmet on, allowing my short hair to remain exposed. Standing up straight, I gave the Healer, Gallen and Dorjan a crisp salute. They returned the salute to Eshshah and me. Pride was written on their faces, although they couldn’t hide the concern in their eyes.
“How do I look?” I asked.
“Like a very determined and successful young man who has hopes of becoming a dragon rider,” Gallen said. “Have you thought of a name?”
“I shall be called Vann. I was studying names from far away countries and it means water ... like Amáne.”
They all nodded their agreement that it was a fitting name.
I was surprised at how calm I felt — at this point in my last quest I shook in uncontrollable spasms. I expected a delayed reaction, though, and would probably feel my nerves give out sometime after we started our flight. Which was fine with me — that way I wouldn’t upset those I loved.
The night was lit with countless stars, the moon was a crescent in the sky — like the smile of one who has a secret to tell ... but won’t.
Eshshah and I spiraled up from the courtyard and swung east over the water. It was then I began to unravel. My teeth chattered, my body shook and a cold sweat came over me. I expected it, but did not welcome it. With Eshshah’s help, I gained control, and after a few deep breaths and some concentration, my heart finally found its beat.
As to my heart, the long flight gave me time to think and discuss my situation with Eshshah. At any moment Lord Ansel would be unsealing the letter that I had left for him. I wished I were a tapestry on the wall so I could see his reaction. I couldn’t predict if he would be angry, sad or remorseful. My guess was all three at once.
“Eshshah, do you think I should even have written that note — was it the right thing to do? My only hope is that he’ll find joy in the fact that I’ve finally admitted my love for him — but I’m afraid to hope. What if I won’t be able to salvage anything? What if he truly meant every word when he said, ‘I will no longer bother you for your attentions?’ I won’t be able to bear it — even though I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I must.”
“Amáne, don’t torture yourself. You did what you thought was right at the time. He needed to know. I’m not able to predict human sentiments, but I can’t foresee him relinquishing the feelings he had for you.”
“How could he forgive me for what I said? I don’t deserve his forgiveness, much less his friendship.”
“You will do better in preparing yourself for your upcoming task. Let’s get the egg first, then we can discuss this on the way home.”
“Thank you, Eshshah.”
For most of the flight, we didn’t soar as high as we did when Lord Ansel was with us. With just my weight and a single saddle, Eshshah didn’t need the higher altitude, but I convinced her to do so. I knew that she enjoyed the frigid air. She acquiesced and flew high for a short time, as I pulled my cloak around me.
At last I saw the lights of Anbon approach. We passed silently over the town. Flying a little further, we found the spot where we were to meet up with the dragon riders involved in our quest ... in a field outside the town walls. Spiraling down, Eshshah and I landed and were greeted by Bern, Avano and Eben. I dismounted and saluted the three, unable to contain my smirk at the incredulity in their faces as they stared at me.
“Well, Amáne —” Eben started.
“— Call me Vann, please, from now until we all return safely.”
“Okay, Vann. I have to admit, you were right. You look like you could be Bern’s son.” A curse escaped his lips before he could stop himself. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Eben. I’m going to have to get used to it if I expect to keep company with males, right?”
They had set up tents for a two nights’ stay in the field before we would leave for the City of Teravinea.
The following day we spent in training. We practiced with various weapons, but they also showed me some wrestling moves, and constantly gave me tips and pointers to improve my ruse.
They didn’t hold back — in their manners or their fighting. They actually treated me like I was Bern’s son.
After some experimentation, cursing still didn’t taste right on my tongue. I gave up on it, but I at least got my ears used to it.
Eshshah found it amusing when they taught me how to spit. But then she became defensive as they took pleasure in slapping me on the back, and friendly-punching me every chance they could. I assured her that I was fine with it, even though they certainly enjoyed themselves at my expense. She kept her displeasure to herself, noting I didn’t protest their treatment. I added more and more pins to my hair to keep it up and figured out how to make sure my cap would stay on, no matter how they assailed me. I think they actually forgot I was a female.
Later that afternoon I sat at a distance from the men, as I leaned against Eshshah. I started to drift into sadness as my thoughts went to Lord Ansel. I tried to imagine how he would have reacted to my letter. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Avano watching me. He approached and asked permission to sit with me near Eshshah. I quickly wiped a stray tear from my face and nodded.
Avano was the youngest living dragon rider until Eshshah and I linked. I was told he was nineteen when he linked with Cira. My heart went out to him at the early loss of his dragon — they had only been together for about eight years when she met with a tragic accident. I’m convinced that it was not an accident, but the same treachery that took many other dragons. I connected their deaths to Galtero. Cira was the last dragon to pass before Torin, the Healer’s dragon, met his death. Avano looked like he was in his mid twenties, but was probably closer to fifty. A good looking man. I felt comfortable around him.
“Vann — or if I may break the rule for just a few minutes — Amáne, I need to talk to you. I can’t help but notice your sadness, and at the risk of being bold
, I believe I know why.”
How could he know why I was sad? It annoyed me that he thought he could read me that easily, but I kept my thoughts to myself.
“I’d like to tell you a little something about Lord Ansel,” he began.
Ugh, I thought, why would he want to do this to me now?
Ignoring the look I shot him, he began, “As you know, it’s an age-old tradition in Teravinea for parents to arrange marriage for their children. Times are changing, but this practice has always been particularly strong in royal circles. For years Lord Ansel’s foster parents tried several times to arrange a betrothal. They were never successful because Lord Ansel would always devise a way to get out of the agreement. Once, he succeeded only by running away on the day when the final betrothal contract was to be signed. Since he was fifteen and of age, he needed to be present to complete the arrangement.
“Always a romantic, he swore he would never even consider spending his life with someone he didn’t fall in love with first. It must have been hereditary as that was the same cast of mind as his true parents, King Emeric and Queen Fiala.
“I was the one Lord Ansel always confided in when he had a love interest. I won’t ease up on the truth, Amáne, when I tell you that he had quite a few.”
If Avano’s intentions were to make me feel better, he’s failed miserably. The dark cloud grew thicker over me. I pressed my lips together and let him continue.
“But they never lasted. He could find no one who could hold his interest — that is until he came back from his ordeal in the dungeons. He was a changed man. I was more than a little concerned, thinking he had been so traumatized by his experience that he was ... well ... damaged somehow. Then I discovered what had changed him when he confided in me that he’d found someone he was seriously interested in.”
My chest felt like a weight had been dropped on it. “That’s what he told you about me?”
Avano continued, “Let me see if I can remember his words — they were quite poetic.”
He closed his eyes and recited, “‘I’ve met someone who has put color into my day. She has the scent of cinnamon and exotic spice, a spirit that soars and a fire in her blue eyes that can’t be extinguished. She is my reason for hope.’”
My throat closed. My eyes filled.
“I asked him about the family and background of this person of whom he spoke.” Avano’s eyes met mine. “But he waved me off and told me family and station made no difference to him when it came to this special girl. He assured me she was royalty in his eyes.”
My eyes spilled over as Avano went on with his narrative. “I’d never before seen him in such high spirits as when he spoke about you, Amáne. When he came back from the Life Celebration Gathering, I think that his boots didn’t touch the ground — he was that smitten.
“As his birthday ball approached, he was as nervous as a race horse. He hoped everything would be perfect for your arrival. I’m sorry that didn’t turn out quite as planned and I’m also sorry I played a part in ruining your first impression.”
I smiled and put my hand on his arm.
“I’m telling you all of this because I’ve been one of Lord Ansel’s guardians since he was a baby, and his happiness is important to me. It’s my duty.
“I know something unfortunate happened before the Dragon Rider Council.” Avano looked into my eyes and became more serious. “And I’m not talking about your abduction. I know words were exchanged between you two that were regretted. I felt the weight of it as soon as he walked into the Council room ... many of us did. We know him that well. I wish you hadn’t left so quickly. This misunderstanding shouldn’t have gone on this long.
“Amáne, Lord Ansel has no knowledge that I’m telling you this, but he needs to know that you forgive him.”
“He’s asking for my forgiveness?!”
“I’m sorry, Amáne, but I’ve found that forgiveness is a powerful remedy. You’re going into a dangerous quest. When I prepared to go into battle or a quest, I made sure that there was no one that needed my mercy before I left. If I were to meet with my ancestors, I knew forgiveness would make my journey easier.”
“You don’t understand, Avano. It is I who need his forgiveness. He’s done nothing that he needs to be sorry for. It was my fault. I was the one who said angry, unforgivable things, not him. I don’t deserve his attentions.”
I dropped my face into my hands and trembled in silent sobs. He put his arm around my shoulder and held me in silence for a while.
“See how it gets to this? This suffering on both of your parts was unnecessary.” He sounded a bit angry.
“As soon as Bern gets to the Castle Outpost,” I said between sobs, “I’ll ask him to contact Lord Ansel and beg his pardon. I know I should have done it earlier, I just didn’t know how. I wrote him a letter, but I made Lali wait until I left Dorsal to give it to him. That was wrong, too.”
“We’ll make it right, don’t worry. He needs you, Amáne.”
“Thank you, Avano. I owe you.”
“You owe me nothing.” Then with a mischievous smile, he punched my arm — hard, then said, “And by the way, Vann, boys don’t cry.” He leapt to his feet and strode away.
I picked up a small stone and bounced it off of his head as he retreated.
The sun shone gently through the trees as we broke camp and left for the City of Teravinea. Eshshah stayed at the Anbon field that day and waited for nightfall, then flew to the Castle Outpost. We would stay in contact through open thought transference.
After a relatively pleasant ride, we reached the gates of the walled City of Teravinea as the sun lowered in the sky. I made the mistake of looking up just before entering the arch of the portcullis. With a jerk, I pulled my horse to a stop. A wave of revulsion and nausea swept through me. Above me were a number of pikes sticking out from the walls, and on the ends, staring blankly at us were severed heads in various states of decay. The flies buzzed thick around them. I leaned over and vomited.
“Ah, yes,” said Eben, “a very understandable message from our king. These unfortunate heads, I can assure you, belonged to citizens who had in some way earned King Galtero’s displeasure. This is his way to let all those who enter his gates, regardless of the festive occasion, know that he will punish those who anger him in any way.”
I spurred my horse to remove myself from that macabre sight.
As we rode, I willed my stomach to settle. The city began to wake to its night life. Light poured out the windows of the taverns and inns that lined the road. Vendors were just setting up their booths for the next several days of festivities. The fourth day held the Hatching Ceremony, and if our plans went well, we would be far from here by that day.
Although the Hatching Ceremony had sadly lost its importance, there was still a festive air at this gathering. It had transformed into an event of feasting and merrymaking — more of a general festival, where wares were sold, and music and dancing took the place of the original significance of riders and dragons linking. I was saddened knowing that the Hatching Ceremony had so devastatingly declined.
Many travelers were arriving from all directions, so no one paid us any heed. We rode to an inn off the main road. Bern negotiated with the proprietor for three nights for the two of us, knowing we would not need the room for the third night. Eben and Avano separated from us and took two rooms at an inn down the lane.
We woke up early and walked the streets of the city. I took in the sights, the smells, the crowds of colorfully dressed people — like none I had ever experienced. This city meant something to me as it was where my mother grew up. I convinced Bern to take me to the potter’s district so I could see the shop where she had been raised. Her family had run the potter’s guild which was now headed up by another family — my mother being the last of the direct line of potters in her family. I had a desire to meet those who had taken over, imagining that maybe we were related in some way. A need for some kind of family connection was strong, but I had to fight
it. This was not what I was here for.
Soon it was time for the candidates to assemble in the market square, accompanied by their fathers. I counted only nine of us. In earlier times, there were many who signed up, from which only a certain amount were selected. From those, only a very few were chosen by dragons.
While we waited in the square for my turn to sign up, Bern related various stories of dragon lore. This place and its history brought back memories for him. A favorite of his was told to him by his father in this very square. It was about Leyna, rider of the late Sitara — the same dragon of the light shields in the outposts. Leyna had disappeared a few years before Nara and Torin had linked. The legend was that she had gone looking for the Valley of Dragons. A far-away, almost mythical place where the ancient dragons resided.
Before he could finish his fascinating tale, we arrived at the front of the line and stood before a large red-faced man seated behind a table.
He looked me up and down and couldn’t contain his laughter. “Your father must think highly of you, boy, to imagine you would ever be acceptable as a dragon rider. You’re too scrawny to even dream you could qualify.” He looked at Bern with disgust and shook his head. “I suppose I’ll have to approve you as a prospect, seeing we have so few applying. You’re lucky, boy. Better prove you’re worthy or we’ll throw you out before the Hatching”
“Yes, sir, thank you sir.” I imagined what his pompous face would look like if I summoned Eshshah to the market square just then, and she landed right in front of his table. I felt Eshshah’s rumbling laugh and only with great effort was I able to suppress my smile.
The candidates would be reporting to this same man at dawn to begin our initiation on the Hatching Grounds. The first rite would last until the following dawn, with no sleep in between. Part of that time involved walking on the grounds, allowing the dragons in the eggs to feel our presence. The other part would be spent in a classroom where we’d be taught the process of linking, dragon lore, and other related subjects. At the end of this initiation period we’d spend twenty-four hours with our fathers, which would be a time of preparation. Lastly, the prospects gather again for the Hatching Ceremony on the third dawn. If our plans come to fruition, I’d be gone before the third dawn — with an egg.
Amáne of Teravinea - The Prophecy (The Teravinea Series Book 2) Page 16