Another attendant came to lift the collar over her head with both hands, while a fourth removed the belt. Nofret herself kicked off her sandals and sank onto a couch with a sigh.
“Court would not be nearly so difficult if I didn’t wear enough jewels to sink the royal barge,” she complained, reaching for the fruit juice a fifth attendant brought her. The gown was now in crumpled ruins, rendered distinctly sorry looking by the heat and humidity and the press of the jewels. It hung limply from her shoulders, all the fine pleats vanishing. She sprawled onto the couch and allowed her attendants to fan her. “So, Ari told you the simple version, I trust?”
Aket-ten nodded her head.
“The complicated version is still simple at this point. There is too much we do not know, and the gods are not speaking to Kaleth. Tedious of them. Life would be so much simpler if they revealed everything to us like sensible beings.” She handed the empty goblet to one of the attendants. “Kiron is here to transport whatever priest the Chosen of Seft designates to go back to the town. We want Kiron to do this because he is the most trustworthy of an already trustworthy lot and because of all of his experience. And because the Bedu trust him. That is no small thing.”
“I feel very badly that I can do nothing,” Aket-ten said plaintively. “It seems as if there should be something I can do. . . .”
“Train your couriers,” Nofret replied instantly. “No, do more than train them. Your young women will be carrying messages of a sensitive nature, and it is imperative that they learn discretion. Make them see that they cannot conduct themselves like the little temple gossips they once were.”
Aket-ten rolled her eyes. “Ask for a miracle,” she muttered though Nofret probably couldn’t hear it.
“Seriously, Aket-ten, if they become nexuses of gossip, they will ruin the reputation of female Jousters for all time.” Kiron put in. He had not wanted these women, but now that they existed, he had no intention of permitting them to fail. For all of their faults, he had seen them with their baby dragons, watched them grit their teeth and throw themselves into training. They were Jousters. “Just tell them that.”
“Precisely.” Nofret passed her hand through her cropped tresses. “They are not stupid, Aket-ten, or you would never have chosen them.”
She nodded, chin firming.
“Enough of that,” Nofret continued. “It is of little importance.” She leaned forward and fixed them both with a steady gaze. “Kiron, the Chosen of Seft wants you here. So, Aket-ten, I am promoting both of you. Kiron, you are, as of this moment, confirmed as Lord of the Jousters. Aket-ten, you are his wing-second and speak with his authority. Ari agrees.”
As the two of them started, and then stared at each other in shock, Nofret continued. “Above all else, Ari is a scholar and a scribe, and he has remembered most of the little that is known about the Nameless Ones. And if everything he thinks is true—” She paused.
“Then the Jousters may be the one thing that stands between us and their darkness.”
THIRTEEN
AKET-TEN gave Kiron a sharp look, but said nothing.
Then, crumpled dress and all, Nofret once again became the Great Queen. “And make it clear to the Queen’s Wing that we are going to teach them combat,” she said to Aket-ten, with a touch of challenge in her voice.
Kiron started. “Wh-what?” he stammered. He glanced at Aket-ten to see if she had instigated this, but she looked just as startled as he was.
“I am going to order you to either teach them combat yourself, or assign a senior Jouster to do so, Kiron,” said Nofret, fixing him with a gaze that warned him she would accept no other answer than “yes” right now. “When Aket-ten began this project, I had no intention of ever letting these young women within a hundred leagues of fighting. We may not have such luxury now. The Chosen of Seft has emerged from his seclusion. The High Priest of Haras tells me that this happens only when . . . there are drastic changes in the wind.”
“More drastic than the destruction of Alta’s capital?” Kiron managed.
Nofret grimaced. “That,” she pointed out delicately, “would not at the time have been the concern of the Chosen of Seft, who is, after all, a god of Tia.”
“Hmm.” Kiron had to agree with that.
“So we have not the luxury to plan for anything but the worst.” Again Nofret hesitated. “Ari is not happy. But we are one in this. We may need every Jouster we can muster and if some of those are women . . . so be it. If need be, Ari and I will ride to battle.”
“There is something you have not told us,” Aket-ten said suddenly. “It is more than just the Chosen of Seft coming out of seclusion.”
Nofret bit her lip. “It is not just that Ari has unease about the Nameless Ones. The gods are not speaking to Kaleth because of a sudden there is no clear future. Those with the ability to see into the futures see nothing but mist and shadows. Something has changed. Some new factor has entered onto the stage, and with that, everything has changed.”
Aket-ten blinked. “How is that possible?”
Nofret shook her head. “Do not ask me these questions! I am no Winged One! I only know what Sanctuary has told us. If I had even a hint, it would help.”
There was silence for a moment as even the discreet handmaidens paused and tendered each other worried glances. “Bah!” Aket-ten said finally. “We managed well enough when the Winged Ones were drained and could not Foresee. And what do peoples do who have no Winged Ones? We will find ways.”
Nofret regarded her for a moment, then nodded. “So we shall. And now you know what I know.” She paused a moment more. “Now that I have spoken to both of you, I would like you to do something, Aket-ten. I would like you to go to Aerie and speak with our friends, as their friend, and rather than having Kiron order someone to train them, find one willing to help to train the Queen’s Wing. It may be that if you were to go and ask them yourself, there would be less . . . friction. I do not know, but it is worth trying.”
“You can use my quarters, if it takes you more than a day,” said Kiron, with a shrug, then felt moved to add, if she was feeling sensitive about it. “I will be here, so I will not need them. Or if I am not here, I will be ferrying the Chosen of Seft. In either case, I will not be there.”
She had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I have not been the easiest of friends,” she began awkwardly.
Nofret snorted, an unusual and un-queenly sound. “Take the reconciliation of lovers’ quarrels elsewhere, if you please,” she said dryly. “If your quarters are not sufficiently private, then tell my vizier you may have use of the royal barge.”
Kiron couldn’t help it; he burst out laughing. Aket-ten flushed, glared, then gave in with a wry shrug. “Very well, O my Queen,” she said. “How else may we serve you?”
Peri could scarcely believe her good fortune. Lord Kiron was remaining for at least a day, perhaps more, and would be supervising their training in Aket-ten’s absence. Now was her chance to impress him with her diligence. Not that she wasn’t diligent all the time, but now he was here to see it.
She threw herself into the training with an enthusiasm that only grew whenever he complimented her. She listened with fierce concentration when he gave instructions or related some story pertinent to what they were learning. Today was only the second day that they were using the suspended barrel, and she stayed on it far longer than she would have thought possible.
When they’d all had their turn, he chuckled a bit, and motioned to the servants manning the ropes. “A real workout, if you please,” he said, climbing into the saddle, and not fastening any but the main strap. “I would like the Queen’s Wing to see what turbulence looks like.”
The slave hauled the barrel aloft, and at his signal, began pulling at the ropes with twice and three times the strength they had been using with the girls. The barrel, with Lord Kiron firmly in the saddle, began to move.
Peri’s eyes grew big as she watched the barrel being thrown about the air above the converte
d pen like a bit of debris in a windstorm. And he stuck to the barrel as if he was part of the saddle. She could scarcely believe her eyes. As for the others, when she glanced at them, she could see that they were also dumbfounded. There were at least two instances of the thing being sent upside down.
Lord Kiron signaled to the servants, who ceased their tugging, and once the barrel had stopped moving, lowered it back down to the sand.
“This, Jousters, is why you need to practice before you take your dragons up for the first time,” he said, as he unstrapped himself and stood up, breathing heavily. So it hadn’t been as easy as it had looked from the ground. . . . “I am not saying that having your dragon in the midst of a thunderstorm is like that—it is different, and thus far we have managed no way to imitate that. For instance—there is the nausea-inducing plummeting spiral, that makes you certain you are going to die. But this, at least, begins to prepare you for the experience.”
“But—” one of the other girls began. “We are only to be couriers—”
“And as couriers there is no telling when you must deliver an urgent message. But—” Lord Kiron looked them over measuringly, “circumstances are such that the Queen has ordered you to have combat training as well.”
Shocked silence descended.
“If any of you do not feel that you can accept this, please say so now,” Kiron continued. “We know that while baby dragons much prefer their surrogate mothers over anyone else, that affection can be transferred to a new surrogate if—”
He was interrupted immediately by all of the young women trying to talk at once. He folded his arms and put up with it for a little while, then cut them short with an abrupt gesture for silence.
“You will be carrying messages of great importance,” he pointed out. “Urgent enough to require that a Jouster make all speed with them. Enemies both within and outside the Two Lands may often want to stop you. How our dragons are trained is no secret now, so it is entirely possible that some enemy could train a dragon and rider of his own to come after you. A single skilled archer could be sent to shoot you down. And if there is fighting, you may well find yourself carrying messages to those in command of our troops. The Queen is not minded to send you into danger without preparation, and neither am I. But if you do not feel equal to this task, there is no shame in stepping down, and there are a dozen male Jouster candidates waiting for every new dragon that I—”
This time he was interrupted, though most respectfully, by Kene-maat, who, when the former priestesses were all responding as a group, tended to be their spokesperson.
“We are equal to anything, Lord Kiron,” she said, raising her chin as the others nodded. “Whoever thinks that women have no courage is a fool. But we had thought that there were objections enough to our mere existence, without encouraging further ire against us by giving us combat training.”
“And who but you of the Queen’s Wing and I and the Great King and Queen are to know it is combat training?” he countered, giving her a hard look. “Consider this a test of your discretion.”
She blushed, and Peri knew why. Of all of them, bold Kene-maat had the loosest tongue.
“I am taking you seriously,” Lord Kiron said at last. “You should take yourselves seriously. Certainly the enemies of the Two Lands will do so. They cannot afford to do otherwise.”
It had been a strange day. It was about to get very much stranger.
Peri was helping Sutema exercise her wings, getting the little dragon to chase her and play “tag,” wings flapping with excitement as she did so. Sutema’s eyes flashed with delight; this was one of her favorite games, and she would play it until she had to flop down in the sand, panting with exertion. And eventually she did just that, then dozed off suddenly as all young creatures tended to do. Peri took the moment to go looking for something—a bench that could be weighted down with stones, perhaps—that Sutema could jump onto and hold while she flapped her wings, as Peri had seen young birds do on the edge of a nest.
But she had not gotten very far before she ran into a servant who was evidently looking for her.
“There is a person in the kitchens, Jouster, looking for you,” the servant said, looking at her oddly. “She says that she knows you, and seemed surprised that you were not in the kitchen.” The servant sniffed. “We thought at first she was looking for a place herself. Her name, she says, is Letis-ha—”
And at that moment, a harried and slightly overheated looking Letis came hurrying around the corner from the same direction as the servant had come. “Peri!” she exclaimed, catching sight of her younger friend. “I thought that as today was your free day, and mine, too, I would come spend it with you, but these people did not seem to know—and what are you doing out here—”
And at the exact same moment, rounding another corner, came Lord Kiron. “Jouster Peri!” he called. “I wanted to ask you—”
They both stopped short, staring, not at Peri, but at each other. Letis turned white, and put her knuckles to her mouth. “Kiron?” she whispered, eyes as large and wide as any gazelle’s.
Meanwhile Kiron had put one hand on the wall beside him to steady himself. “Mother?” he gasped. “Mother—is that—”
Letis shook her head, hard, and rubbed her eyes. “Kiron?” she faltered. “S-son?”
And in the next moment, oblivious to anyone else, they ran to each other’s arms. Both talking at once, laughing and crying, Peri could only catch snatches of what they were saying.
“. . . look just like your father . . .”
“. . . Ari’s vizier searched, but couldn’t find . . .”
“. . . Iris is with me . . .”
“. . . thought you must be . . .”
“. . . knew you would be . . .”
Finally, Letis pulled a little away from Kiron and actually looked at him. “What are you doing here? This is where the Jousters are. Are you a dragon boy?”
Kiron flushed. “I’m a Jouster, Mother. Actually, I’m Lord of the Jousters. At least for—”
Letis frowned suddenly. “This is no time to be making up—”
“Lord Kiron!” Yet another servant came pounding up. “Lady Aket-ten wishes you to come to the Palace. You are urgently sought for by the Great Queen.”
Kiron cursed. “Of all the times—Mother, this is Peri-en-westet—”
“I—” Peri just knew that Letis was going to say “I know who she is, I came looking for her,” but Kiron didn’t give her the chance.
“She’s one of the Jousters from the new Queen’s Wing. She can tell you all about what is going on. I will be back as soon as ever I can. Don’t leave until I am back.” With that, Kiron set off at a run, the servant that had come to get him trailing along behind.
Letis turned slowly to look at Peri, clearly still in something of a state of shock.
Finally she spoke, her eyes narrowing. “What did he mean, you are a Jouster?”
“You cannot be a Jouster.”
It was about the sixth or seventh time Letis had said this, and Peri was getting rather tired of it.
“Are you saying that Kiron, Lord of the Jousters of the Two Lands, friend to the Great King and Queen, and your son, is a liar?” she finally snapped.
Since she had rarely used even a harsh tone with her friend before this, the anger in her voice took Letis aback. She stepped back a pace, and regarded Peri with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, an expression which made her crow’s-feet wrinkles even more prominent.
And, in fact, which made her look rather like the evil old mother-in-law of storytellers’ tales.
But she isn’t, Peri reminded herself. It is hardship and suffering that put those marks on her. Not an evil temper.
“You never said you were a Jouster. You said you had work at the Dragon Courts,” Letis finally said.
“And so I do. Being a Jouster-in-training. Would you have believed me if I had told you I was to be a Jouster of the Queen’s Wing?” Peri countered, reining in her own temper.
“Your own common-born Altan son is Lord of the Jousters of the Two Lands, the Queen’s Wing is approved by the Great King as well as the Great Queen, and there are both Altan and Tian Jousters in Aerie at this moment,” Peri countered, with growing irritation. “The wingleader of the Queen’s Wing is Lady Aket-ten, also Altan, also a woman.”
“But not a commoner!” Letis pounced on that like a bird on a beetle.
Peri sighed in exasperation. “Fully half the Jousters of the Two Lands are common-born now,” she retorted. “High birth is no great recommendation for getting a dragon.”
“You will never get a dragon,” said Letis.
“I have a dragon, which I am going to now!” Peri snapped, and turned on her heel to stalk off in the direction of Sutema’s pen. Letis remained where she was for a moment, then ran after her. Peri did not look back. She had never before seen this side of her friend—angry, bitter, and determined to be right even when she was completely wrong.
It made Peri wonder belatedly what sort of mother-in-law she would make.
No matter. Sutema’s pen was not that far, and Letis had kept her arguing for so long that the little dragon was awake and looking for her surrogate mother. With a yelp of joy, she lumbered across the sands to Peri as soon as Peri appeared in the door.
With a yelp of a different sort, Letis leaped backward into the corridor.
Peri paid her no mind, being far too busy reassuring Sutema that all was well, for the dragon was acutely sensitive to mood and had sensed Peri’s irritation. When golden chin was scratched and emerald brow ridges were rubbed, and Sutema was soothed into happy playfulness again and busy with wrestling a bull’s leg bone into submission, only then did Peri turn back to the doorway where Letis stood uncertainly.
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