The Dragon's Egg

by Pauline M. Ross

  Turning back to us, he sat down again and went on, “My apologies. Yes, that description might mean something. I came across something like that, once. It could be the same.”

  “You know where such an egg is to be found? An unhatched one?” Hanni said, her voice suddenly sharp.

  “I believe so, yes. It was a few years ago, when I was on a journey with the Keeper, before she became the Keeper. They were hidden away in a mountain.”

  “They?” Hanni said. “More than one?”

  He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Oh, yes. To my eyes, they looked just like dragon’s eggs, but the Keeper was sure they were not.”

  Drusinaar reached across the table and laid a small hand on his arm. “Please… will you take me to the Keeper?”

  “Indeed I will. She very much wants to meet you. We can leave tomorrow if you wish.”

  She smiled at him, and he smiled back and patted her hand. Hanni beamed in relief, and Zarin burst into raptures about the prospect of seeing Mesanthia.

  For myself, I was more struck by the fact that Drusinaar had asked a real question for the first time ever. I wondered what that might mean.

  ~~~~~

  Leaving so soon turned out to be a bit optimistic. We delayed a couple of days to get ourselves rigged out with suitable gear. The Mesanthian Ambassador turned out to be a dumpy little woman, who rounded up three equally dumpy sisters and whisked Hanni and Drusinaar off on some mysterious feminine errands. They came back with some flimsy silk confections – “Everyone wears this style in Mesanthia,” said the Ambassador chirpily – and a new wrap for Drusinaar, to replace the increasingly frail affair she’d had from Shakara.

  Zarin settled himself at the Ambassador’s library, and I got Xando’s surprisingly expert advice on weaponry. He found me an excellent swordsmith, who fitted me out with a very useful short sword, a couple of long knives and some throwing knives.

  “Do you need a bow, as well?” Xando asked, fingering a row of them.

  My eye was drawn by an unusual crossbow, smaller than the average, but with an odd ratchet affair to prime it. It was beautifully made, in some kind of black wood. I picked it up, and it felt perfect in my hand.

  “I want this one,” I blurted out.

  Xando raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to war? A regular bow would be more use – silent for hunting, fast for battle.”

  “Have you been in battle?” I asked, for he didn’t seem the type.

  “Just once. You?”

  “A few times. Some brawls, too. I’m a knife and sword man, myself. Works anywhere. But this is a little beauty.” I hefted the crossbow in my hands, feeling the weight.

  “Ah, you have taste,” the swordsmith said. “This is made from black-bark wood, from a secret land far to the south. It is said to have magical properties.”

  Xando laughed, but he paid the price without argument, and I carried my treasure back to the inn in delight.

  Drusinaar was odd about it, though, when I showed it to her. “It’s nasty,” she said, pulling a face.

  “Nasty? No, it’s beautiful. Look at the grain on this wood, and the way it’s been shaped to show it off. And it’s so smooth and warm. Here, feel it.”

  She shook her head violently. “Nasty.”

  I suppose she had no appreciation of beauty.

  That journey to Mesanthia was the most boring of my life. We travelled on the Coastway, a massive canal so wide you could barely see from one side to the other, which took us all the way from the lake at Minaar to Mesanthia. Most of the time we travelled in convoy, a line of barges powered by sails, and hastened along by wind-blowers, so Drusinaar said.

  The banks were densely packed with farms, towns and great cities, passing in unending succession. Then there were wharves and warehouses and cranes and mills, making and transporting who knew what. The water itself was alive with vessels of every kind, beetling about on business of their own.

  It was depressing to me, a child of the vast, almost empty, Plains of Kallanash, to see the great power of the northern coast. It was where civilisation had first crawled out of the rubble of the Catastrophe, I knew that, so they’d had longer to establish themselves, but it still made me miserable to think how far ahead of the rest of the continent the northerners were. But perhaps the south would never catch up, and then it wouldn’t be black with settlements like this, the land parcelled into endless neat squares of fields. I hoped there would always be wild, empty places where a man could enjoy the beauty of sea and plain and river and mountain, without worrying if he was breaking some obscure regulation.

  Xando had his own barges, an honour guard of forty smartly uniformed soldiers, and a whole household of secretaries and advisors and stewards and cooks and who knew what else. We had a pair of fine cabins, with the idea, I suppose, that Drusinaar would share with Hanni. But each night Drusinaar crept into the room I shared with Zarin and curled up in a blanket on the sofa.

  There was no harm in it, for she was not even a normal woman. Certainly my interest in her was anything but the usual. I felt like a brother to her, keeping a watchful eye on her welfare, and it pleased me hugely that she felt some affinity with me. I liked to think it was my humble origins that drew her, although her peasant upbringing was really nothing like my scavenging on the streets.

  Hanni knew of Drusinaar’s condition, so she understood that my affection for her was not sexual, but even so she was uncomfortable with it.

  “It is not really appropriate, but I suppose there can be no harm in it.”

  “She is quite safe from us,” I said. “Neither Zarin nor I would hurt her.”

  Zarin spluttered. “I? Certainly not. But you, Garrett? She must be the only female you have not tried to fornicate with,” he added, in his usual charming way. At times I could see he was trying to be civil to me, but the habits of many years were hard to break.

  Hanni made an odd sort of noise in her throat, but she said nothing. I think she quite liked having a cabin to herself.

  We were asked to keep ourselves out of sight as much as possible. “Especially Drusinaar,” Xando said. “We want no accidents.”

  She had no problem complying. There was a small library on board Xando’s personal barge, so she and Zarin spent their days in one of the cabins, deep in some incomprehensible tome or other. In the evenings, we played dragon stones with a beautiful gemstone set that Xando provided. He was a good player – not as good as Drusinaar, but he could give me a good game.

  There was a small training room in one of the barges, where the guardsmen practised, and Xando arranged sessions for me every day. I think I might have gone mad, confined below deck, if I hadn’t had an hour or two every day to hit things. I’d got surprisingly out of shape on our travels with no training, apart from the brief interlude of being battered by Kestimar. I sparred with staves, practised my swordwork and knife-throwing, and learnt to use my beautiful crossbow. The guards were rather snooty about me at first. Well, I get that attitude a lot. They look at my size, and think I can’t handle myself. It took me about a quarter of an hour to teach them different.

  Hanni – well, I had no idea where she got to each day. She vanished early after the morning meal, and was gone for most of the day. I imagine, being Tre’annatha herself, she was given some privileges by Xando. She returned in time for the evening meal, which we ate in her cabin, just the four of us. We were never invited to share meals with Xando or anyone else.

  “Had a good day?” I said to her one evening, as we ate yet another rice concoction.

  “Not bad,” she said. Her face gave nothing away, as usual.

  “Did you get something to eat at noon?”

  “I am never hungry in the day.”

  “Lucky you,” I said. “Gods, I’m sick of rice. I’d give my right arm for a good slab of meat, dripping with bloody juices.”

  “That is disgusting,” Zarin said. “Although a little meat would be very acceptable. So much seafood becomes wearisome after a while.”


  “The wine is good, though,” Hanni said, and we could all agree with that.

  One evening, when the cabin boy had cleared the dishes and Zarin, Drusinaar and I prepared to return to our own cabin, Hanni said, “Garrett, will you stay a while? I should like to talk to you.”

  “Of course.”

  She closed the door, and then gestured to a pair of ornate chairs near the bed. “Sit. I have a proposal for you.”

  “Propose away,” I said, settling myself as best I could on the dainty silk-covered seat.

  “I should like to find out about certain experiences which have not come my way so far,” she said. “It seems to me that this is the ideal opportunity to extend my knowledge, and that you are the ideal person to assist me.”

  “Experiences?” I was floundering a bit.

  “I have been loitering around the guardsmen in the hope that one of them would make an approach, but clearly I do not have the trick of it. But you are a friend, and I know I can speak plainly to you. Will you do it?”

  My mouth flapped open once or twice, but I don’t think I could have put a coherent sentence together at that point.

  “Oh,” she said, in disappointed tones. “Even a direct approach fails. I must be very unappealing.”

  I managed to find my voice. “Hanni… this is not how it’s done. If you mean what I think you mean.”

  “Oh, have I not made myself clear? Sex – I am asking you to have sex with me. Will you?”

  Her face was as blank as if she were talking about apples or the chance of rain.

  “Is this one of your experiments?”

  “Yes!” she said, smiling. “That is exactly it! You see, I will never be accepted for breeding – well, how could I be, when I am officially dead? But I should like to know what it feels like. There was never an opportunity at Drakk’alona, but here – I have my own cabin, and I know you are a man of some experience in that way. Fornication.”

  “That is Zarin’s word, not mine,” I said sharply. “He’s been indoctrinated by the priests. It’s just sex. Fucking. Making love.”

  “Making love,” she said, mouthing the words carefully as if they were in a foreign language. “Yes. Will you… make love with me?”

  I rubbed my nose helplessly. “This isn’t how it’s done,” I said again. “There has to be… desire. Sex isn’t just a thing you do, you have to want it.”

  “I do want it,” she said, puzzled. “Have I not just explained? Oh – you are talking about physical urges. Oh no, I have not been awakened. Tre’annatha… we do not have the same animal nature as ordinary people, you know. But I thought you would be willing. You fornicate – make love – a great deal, I understand.”

  “Let me think about it,” I said, and made a hasty escape from her cabin.

  My head was spinning after that. I’ve been propositioned a few times in my life, but never with so little emotion. I had no idea what to make of it, or what to do. It wasn’t something I could discuss with Zarin or Drusinaar, but I thought Xando might be able to explain it, being Tre’annatha himself. He was a friendly, approachable man, for all he was so important. He agreed at once to talk to me in private, and took me to his own cabin. To my surprise, it was no bigger or grander than the ones we’d been given. He was very unassuming, despite being one of the most powerful men in Mesanthia.

  I explained the whole situation to him, everything that Hanni had said.

  “To be honest,” I said, “I don’t really understand it. Is it true? This awakening business?”

  “Yes, it is true. Long ago, before the Catastrophe, the Tre’annatha persuaded the mages to change them, physically, so that they no longer felt sexual desire. That way they could concentrate on their research projects without any distractions. There would be no unexpected pregnancies, no brothels, no rape, no fighting over women. Life would be peaceful, and great progress could be made to advance our civilisation. But the Catastrophe disrupted the march towards enlightenment, and we are left with a people which has the greatest difficulty in reproducing at all.”

  “But how do you—?” I began, and then realised that it was probably incredibly rude to ask a Protector of Mesanthia about his sexual ability.

  But he smiled, eyes twinkling. “How do I manage? I have been awakened, although it was accidental, in my case. I am able to fulfil my role as Protector. Although none of the Children of the Spirit have my eyes, as it happens.”

  He had the distinctive Tre’annatha almond-shaped eyes. I wondered just how that worked, with five Protectors and one Keeper, and made a mental note to ask Zarin some searching questions about customs in Mesanthia. Although on reflection, I realised he would be too embarrassed to talk about such things.

  “I am not sure that this helps you,” Xando said. “If Hanni has not been awakened… sex is physically possible for her, but she will receive no pleasure from it. I do not quite see the point.”

  I shrugged. “She likes to experiment. Try things out.”

  Xando was silent, a far-away look in his eye. Then he exhaled sharply. “It is sad. The physical part… that is not what matters. Sex between lovers is one of the greatest joys life can offer. I pity her.”

  That was my feeling, too. Poor Hanni, wanting to try everything but having no understanding of what she was missing.

  I did what she wanted, of course, because it was sex and how could I resist it when it was offered freely, like that? Despite all my efforts to make it special for her, I’m not sure that she enjoyed it much. For me, it was the weirdest experience I’d ever had with a woman, by some distance. Some men like a passive partner, and I’ve had friends who went to brothel women for that reason. But not me. The more lively a woman gets, the better I like it. That was why Tella was so much fun, and why I ended up falling out with Kestimar over her. Hanni could not have been more different. A strange people, the Tre’annatha, with their silver necklaces and their quietly determined ways.

  Afterwards, she thanked me politely, and sent me back to my own cabin. She never asked me for sex again.

  25: Mesanthia (Zarin)

  Mesanthia was hot, that was the first thing Zarin noticed. The whole north coast was hot, of course, and parts were unbearably humid, especially with summer coming on, but Mesanthia seemed hotter than anywhere. It was surrounded by desert, too, which meant sand everywhere, and biting flies, and general misery.

  “They do say that drinking stennish keeps the sandflies away,” Xando said sympathetically. “The locals drink vast amounts of it, and are never bothered by the flies.”

  Zarin pulled a face. “It is too bitter for me. I like tennel, or something sweet and fruity.”

  “You will find stalls selling fruit and juices on every street corner,” Xando said. “Now, let us go over this one last time.”

  They were sitting in Hanni’s cabin as Xando’s barges were slowly towed along the last stretch of canal to Mesanthia. The fast, sailed convoys of the Coastway had been left behind, and now horses were the only source of power. After crossing from one side of the old Empire to the other in less than a moon, it had taken two days to cover the tiny remaining distance to Mesanthia. It would have been quicker to walk.

  Zarin, Dru and Garrett perched on one of the beds, while Hanni and Xando took the two chairs.

  “We will reach the rest house in about one hour,” Xando said. “The four of you will disembark there. A carriage will be waiting to convey you into the city by the visitors’ gate. These papers here—” He touched some rolled-up parchment on a table. “—prove that you have rented a guest house in the visitors’ quarter. That is all the paperwork you need to enter the city. The carriage will take you to the guest house, where you will find servants awaiting your arrival. You may trust them, they are the Keeper’s own staff, so they know your situation. I will send word to you when this Caxangur delegation has left, and you will be able to see the Keeper.”

  “Is all this secrecy really necessary?” Hanni said. “It seems a little excessiv
e.”

  Xando nodded ruefully. “It may seem so, but Mesanthia is not quite as welcoming as it might seem on the surface. The Keeper is taking a risk in sheltering you in this way. The Tre’annatha were, until recently, very powerful here, and had the right to take anyone thought to have a strong connection into the Program. They would certainly want to take Drusinaar, and possibly Garrett. And you, too, Hanni. Visiting Tre’annatha are expected to register with the local administrators, which is not a good idea, with your history. It is better to keep out of sight.”

  “May we not go out into the city at all?” Zarin said, his voice small.

  “It will be safe enough for you and Garrett. I know you want to visit your friend at the Academia, and Garrett will not like to be confined, I am sure. The staff at the guest house will provide you with suitable clothes, and help you to move about unobtrusively. There are people of many nations in the visitors’ quarter, and on the principal streets, so your usual attire will not stand out, but if you wish to have complete freedom to move around, you must blend in with the locals.”

  Garrett was looking belligerent again. “Why are you doing this for us?” he burst out. “Won’t you get into trouble for keeping us secret like this?”

  It was a good question, that had exercised Zarin’s mind, too. He wondered if the Keeper had some plan to exploit Dru, and that meant keeping her away from the Tre’annatha Program.

  Xando’s face softened into a smile. “Perhaps. But worth it, we feel. Drusinaar’s story is unique, and deserving of investigation. I told you, I think, that we have seen eggs of the type you describe before. That makes her of personal interest to us. The Keeper and I wish to know more about her, and perhaps it may turn out that the Program is the best place for her, but we will not force Drusinaar to join it, or hand her over without her agreement.”

  “But she is supposed to join the Program,” Zarin said. “The Guardian set us all on this journey precisely so that Dru might be helped by the Tre’annatha. Should we not ask them what they wish? You are one of them – why give Dru into this Keeper’s control instead of your own people, and keep us all hidden in this underhand way?”