* * *
After a short but exhausting flight, we came to the town of Hertos. Where I was literally led about on a tether, while Karma raided stalls and vendors with a coin-purse instead of dragon-fire. Except she, from a gift of family and fate was practically hidden among the two legged races. Able to alter her form, yet leaving her original slitted eyes, faint markings on her skin, and clawed fingers to reveal her true species.
Remnants that were concealed beneath a veil and gown. Alas, I had abilities of a different sort and was forced to follow her in scales and all, under the ruse that she was some foreign merchant and I her pet and protector. There was little I could do but to depend on her guile or my teeth to make the arguments my mouth could not. The latter was almost as useless as my voice.
I was not a proud dragon, as I've certainly made clear. For what sort of dragon fears battle? Fears to bleed by protecting what is his? I could not imagine a dragon that was less a dragon than I. This opinion was not improved by my small confidence in the affairs of haggling. So my inner voice was just as unintelligible as what sounds my throat produced. Aside from other dragons, I could only hiss and snarl as I struggled to be understood and even this failed to invoke fear. Instead I was crowded unless my eyes were upon them and became constant victim of children who came over to pet or grab at me like I was some dog to torment. The leash was no help I am certain. If I swatted or snapped at them, they did not scream, they laughed. So I ignored them as Karma distracted me by quietly teaching me the secrets of the market.
Her voice was smooth no matter her form or audience, and perhaps more so in the arena of commerce. So I carried the bags, and tried in vain to look intimidating, while she haggled, teased, and argued over every half-iron penny. That isn't entirely accurate. I was also called upon to appraise merchandise, but I resisted, for I did not believe my help was actually needed or if the distance look in my eyes revealed my excitement.
Eventually I took the bait if only to please her and soon I studied the offered wares with eyes that had been abused, strained, trained, and sharpened for years. Looking away briefly to ensure this merchant had no intention of clubbing my snout as a previous had, in the absurd fear that I might devour him. I hadn’t even considered it, though I have been pressed to such a task once or twice. Men are a bland and bitter sort of meat and certainly not a meal worthy of us. I suppose we are all curious at some point and this curiosity likely formed the belief that his ale rotted liver would be tasty and not a punishment to swallow.
I would have liked to make an exception if my attacker had dislodged a scale in his fit. It would have been crushing if I had bled and exposed my weakness to the ridicule of men even smaller than I. Thankfully I lost no scale and Karma spared me further considerations of revenge by seizing the attacking cane and shortly expressed her own opinion in a rare display of anger, before approaching the next stall in line. Satisfied, I followed.
Presently I examined a collection of foreign relics spread out across a tattered rug. It felt wrong for them to be casually spilled across the ground. It wasn't that they weren't protected, I could see the engraver's marks binding them to the man. It was that they had no priority, no privilege. Others think that we do not value what we take, and simply desire everything. We are not sympathetic to those outside our kin and only rarely even then. So we do not think twice or even unkindly towards the concept of theft. A mindset likely brought about by having an intelligence worthy of respect, yet having nothing but clumsy claws and teeth to touch the world with. But this only makes us value what we can not produce all the more. The mounds of treasure we accumulate are more than just piles. We know and desire every piece in it personally or else we would never have taken it. You could consider these collections shrines to ourselves. Arranged with a delicately that intruders have called obsessive, if they can be bothered to notice before blindly groping everything that sparkles.
Karma's reputation as a dragon that could be trusted is all that contain the impulse to right this evil. The merchant's lack of respect was only surpassed by his lack of understanding for what he possessed. Waving his hands dismissively as Karma inspected a tool with a man, a forgotten deity as the handle and a fan shaped blade at the end. He took it from Karma's hand and demonstrated its assumed purpose. I was struck dumb then wheezed uncontrollably when the man pressed the blade to his forehead and pretended to shave the receding hair from his scalp. He looked at me, confused or offended by the response. I hoped the latter.
“Should I tell him?” Karma asked as she focused her voice upon me. “It is a priest's ritual knife, yes?”
“So proud you make me.” I said and tried to nuzzle her shoulder, but she jabbed me away with her stolen cane. I ignored this rebuke and continued, “Why not, it may encourage him to bring the price to a more profitable amount. It's a nice piece if you don't care about it's purpose. And it was made by the Ostens. No cost was too great when it came to religious toys.”
“Yes, the five-eyed man forming the handle made the Ostens' influence quite clear,” she noted. “From the third dynasty? The gems are also nice even if a few have been stripped. They don't appreciate Moonstone this far south, probably didn't think they were worth stripping. However if I were to fly some northward and across the sea…” She pondered and I finally realized why this place looked familiar and peered about in wonder.
“The third or fourth dynasty,” I agreed, then looked upon the man and gestured at my neck with a claw. He blinked and tried to mimic shaving with the blade but quickly discovered it too large. Karma proceeded to enlighten him that he wasn't using the correct angle to slit his throat, as was the knife's purpose. Intended for divine rites and the sacrifice of animals and probably a good number of people. The Ostens offered the life of an especially successful military leader to their god. It was probably a lack of leadership on the mortal plane that was caused their eventual destruction. Which was a shame in my opinion, being they had been one of the few societies with ability to appreciate a whole and living dragon and not just certain pieces of one.
The merchant’s dark skin lightened as Karma exaggerated in great detail, the tool's use to one of black altar rituals. I offered a few colorful details, before the image became too colorful and I looked for distraction in the remaining items. All the while she displayed a few ways the knife could have been put to work before the man could end the conversation with another procession of desperate waves. As hoped, he was eager to negotiate its release which Karma was eager to accept.
She wrapped it in cheap linens and dropped it into the filling saddle bags strapped to my sides with a very dragon-like grin, then danced her fingers up my neck and almost giggled into my ear, but maintained her dignity. “I could stand to do that once or twice more.” Then her hand paused and she asked. “What?”
“Just a tingle of guilt. After all I've fallen victim to that showmanship before.” Then looked at the street and scratched at a paving stone as I quietly added, “I also feel like I betrayed the Ostens.” She laughed, pressed her tiny nose to mine while I struggled to keep from trembling or worse, slumping head first into the road and crushing her between us.
“A victim? I would not betray you. I only amuse myself. Do not think so poorly of us and compare his folly to our sport. As for the Osten, I can promise you the dead are far more free with laughter than many of the living.”
I nodded and took the lead, wandering the wide marketplace for a short time before admitting wearily, “They've moved everything, but I think I was here when you spoke to me. It wasn't such a popular spot back then and I'd had only come this way to avoid the crowds. Your tent was set up right over there. With all the sweaty men about, I wouldn't have noticed it if you hadn't called to me from beyond the screen. The sign said, The Foretelling Dragon. Learn your fate. Good with children.”
“I'm flattered.” she said and did seemed pleased.
“No, you're Karma, or Karma the All-Knowing as you titled yourself then.” I teased without p
ity, though I shake my head now.
“And how did you respond after introducing myself, Nitu? You all but ignored me once your surprise had settled then tried to creep away. 'That is an interesting name', is all you said. I must say that I've met lesser drakes who were far more charming at first glance.”
“Those were bad times for me and avoiding the attention of others was just second nature to me. Especially when those others are a certain insidious draka offering you refugee or as you put it, 'Caution does not suit a young drake. I offer you my company and the wealth of advice I hold. Be bold and accept it.'”
“Your impersonation is entertaining but far less commendable. Insidious or not, you just kept trotting along and muttered, 'Caution suits me.' You're lucky I don't care for being ignored or things would have gone much differently for you.”
“Have you been blessed with visions of pasts never to be? I was not aware such a talent existed.”
“No, but I'd seen your future the moment I looked upon you, at least the distasteful color of it. Speaking of pasts, are you cheating?” she accused.
“I do not need prophetic visions to recall those moments.” I said, offended. “I suppose I was not so memorable, for I was cautious and trying to avoid notice. But you were determined to make an impression on me and your response to my refusal succeed quite well. 'You would do well to heed the death-touched, Nitusomin, and to ignore the advice of any draka who would offer it when your line is so thin is worse still. You stagger onward to nothing but a lonely grave beneath a solitary mountain.”
“I was only curious. You were not so forgettable once I caught your attention. You then produced some teeth, 'Am I to be mocked by a draka that evades time, while struggling desperately to catch it? Owning nothing but a false name and a debt she can not fulfill’. Yes, you had my attention then, but when I was sure you would lumber on, you surprised me again by finally approaching." I looked away from the patch of dirt.
“Karma, I can not bear it any longer. Why of all the places we could have traveled, why here?”
“Don't you like visiting the past?” she asked
“Yes.” I confirmed.
“Well, then think of this as a holiday of reminiscing. I'd had hoped to catch your interest with something new, but the life of a merchant is not so desirable to everyone. You love your caverns with a passion I can not, and though I can not see our shadows walking the streets as you can. I can share in such memories at least.”
“You do not understand. It is not that I have no interest in such a life.” I explained..
“You already dedicate yourself to other ambitions, other dreams.”
“Well yes, but I do not tire of you or your trade. I tire because I haven't slept in two days and the flight here burned away what little strength remained. I had already refused you once, I couldn't do it again.”
“If you had only spoken-”
“You would have returned, but when and for how long? I was depressed and eager to be gone. It couldn't be helped, but now my thoughts are hazy and my mind wanders.” I said and coiled up in the patch of dirt. “Give me the rest of the day and the night as well and I think you'll find me far more eager. Its about time that I got the chance to doze off during one of your lectures.”
“You can not sleep there.” she said, exasperated. But I already had. There were perks to being ignored.
Acknowledgments
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Divide and Conquer Volume One Page 9