Gold Dragon

by Lindsay Buroker

  “As I recall,” Angulus was saying, “I had some reservations about permanently assigning a magical sword to such a young officer and also allowing her to become the first dragon rider Iskandia has seen in over a thousand years.”

  “I do remember that, Sire.”

  Angulus started to speak again, but Shulina Arya bent her long neck so that her large head was level with his and Rysha’s. Her violet eyes regarded them from only a few feet away. Murmurs went through the crowd, and the king’s bodyguards fingered their weapons.

  Trip caught Colonel Therrik’s mutter of, “It’s not worth being king if you have to let dragons breathe on you.”

  Zirkander elbowed him, much as Leftie had done to Trip earlier.

  “Don’t tell me you and your sarcastic mouth weren’t thinking the same thing, Zirkander.”

  “Actually,” Zirkander whispered, “I was thinking that Angulus better finish pinning on that medal quickly and give the dragon whatever he’s got under that cloche.”

  “Do you get used to that and stop finding it alarming?” Angulus asked Rysha, tilting his head toward Shulina Arya.

  Shulina Arya appeared curious, unthreatening, and maybe even eager, but she still exuded typical dragon scylori, and it couldn’t be easy to ignore her. Most of the spectators had grown silent and wore the enraptured looks Trip had come to recognize as they gazed at her. His grandparents looked as much stunned as enraptured, and he assumed this was their first dragon sighting. Certainly, their first up-close dragon sighting.

  “It depends on how early in the morning it is when she pokes her head in, Sire,” Rysha said calmly, appearing unflappable speaking to the king, as always. “And whether I’m wearing my spectacles or not. If I’m not, the large gold blur can be a tad alarming.”

  A mental throat clearing sounded in Trip’s mind. Judging by how wry Angulus’s expression became, he heard it too.

  “I believe that’s our signal to get on with things.” Angulus accepted one of the last medals from the assistant with the velvet-lined box, then stepped forward to pin it to Rysha’s pocket flap. He raised his voice so the spectators could hear him. “We are grateful for your assistance and your bravery in dealing with Iskandia’s enemies and trust that you will have a long and fruitful career in Our military, since it is clear to Us that you were destined to be an officer and a dragon rider.”

  Angulus looked over at Rysha’s parents before continuing on, and Trip was tickled when they squirmed under his gaze.

  “We hope that there will be fewer attacks on Our fine country in the future,” Angulus went on, “but We are relieved that you and the noble dragon Shulina Arya are here to defend Us.”

  Rysha grinned over at Shulina Arya, and Trip sensed the dragon had said something to her. She radiated pleasure at being called noble, and the tip of her tail lifted and waved about, the gesture somewhere between a dog wagging and a cat swishing its tail. Trip hadn’t seen it before. Maybe excitement that she couldn’t quite contain? There wasn’t room for her to twirl here.

  Zirkander, Therrik, and Kaika, who were standing behind the tail, scooted back lest they be whipped by the scaled appendage.

  Angulus finished pinning on Rysha’s medal, then waved to his assistant with the box. The man lifted a velvet tray and withdrew another medal from underneath it, this one larger, with a very long ribbon.

  Angulus looked at Shulina Arya and seemed to be considering how to get it around her neck when the medal was lifted from his hands. The audience murmured as it floated through the air by itself. The ribbon unraveled and slipped over the dragon’s head. It settled around her neck, the gold medal coming to rest against the gleaming scales of her chest.

  “We also thank you for your help in defeating Our enemies, Shulina Arya,” Angulus said formally, lowering his hands.

  Nobly, Shulina Arya replied, the word going out to everyone.

  “Nobly,” Angulus agreed, then gestured to the second assistant.

  The man watched the dragon warily as he approached with the covered tray. Shulina Arya’s head shifted, her violet eyes locking onto the silver cloche with more intensity than she had considered the medal. The man halted, perhaps thinking those eyes were locked onto him. He looked like he might flee.

  “Over here, Adlei,” Angulus said firmly, pointing beside him.

  But it was Sardelle, once again sending out a sensation of soothing, that affected the man. He managed to get to the king’s side with the tray. Angulus accepted it, then held it toward the dragon.

  “A small token of our appreciation, Shulina Arya.” Angulus lifted the cloche with dramatic flair.

  A gorgeous array of colorful miniature tarts of different varieties lay on the tray. Lemon, blueberry, apple, and ones made with exotic fruits that Trip couldn’t identify.

  A surge of delight emanated from Shulina Arya, one he suspected the entire audience experienced. Then her great tongue slid out to lick the various tarts. Trip, remembering the jawbreaker incident, imagined them falling onto the ground and the tongue following them, having difficulty picking them up. But Shulina Arya knew how to handle tarts. After this first taste, which Angulus watched with an unalarmed and bland expression he must have spent his entire reign mastering, the tongue withdrew, and the tarts floated one by one into Shulina Arya’s mouth.

  I wonder if Bhrava Saruth is going to be upset that he wasn’t invited, Trip thought so the soulblades could hear him.

  A second dragon would not have fit in the gardens, Azarwrath remarked.

  I understand a similar assortment of tarts was delivered to his temple, Jaxi replied.

  But no medal? Trip asked. No adulation from a crowd of potential worshippers? Is a tart delivery enough? He seems like a rather needy dragon, and he did help with the battle.

  He did, Jaxi agreed. And that’s why the king invited him to come. But he declined. Due to extreme busyness. You see, there was a write-up recently in the newspaper about the bravery of Iskandia’s dragon allies, and he and his temple were mentioned. Somehow, a line got in about his godliness and how he is available at his temple to give blessings, and especially enjoys blessing young, beautiful women.

  Uh, Trip thought. Did he write that article?

  Sardelle and I suspect that he visited the journalist late one night and exerted his dragonly influence.

  Is the journalist female?

  It seems she is.

  That dragon is shameless, Azarwrath said. Though from what I remember of my era when dragons had more of a presence in the world, shame isn’t a word in their language.

  Unsurprising, Jaxi said.

  What of Phelistoth? Trip asked. Was he recognized? He also arrived in time to help.

  He was not interested in being recognized. He dislikes crowds, especially crowds of Iskandians. He is, after all, a Cofah dragon, even if Tylie has chosen to live here. Angulus wasn’t quite correct in naming Rysha as the first rider. Tylie has been riding Phelistoth around for years. She simply isn’t a warrior at heart—and Phelistoth considers himself a scholar rather than a fighter—so they never stepped forward to proclaim themselves here to defend the country. That said, Phelistoth certainly ends up in a lot of fights for a dragon who doesn’t like battles. It may have something to do with his aloof personality.

  It does seem a shame if he wasn’t recognized. No tart delivery?

  Not tarts, but there was a large delivery of coffee beans to the house with a thank-you note from Angulus with wishes that Phelistoth would enjoy the variety of exotic blends from other continents. You know that you and your lieutenant are the main reason that coffee made it to Iskandian shores. Given how many people drink the stuff, you probably should have received a second medal for that deed.

  Once Shulina Arya had finished the tarts and sufficiently licked the tray, she sprang into the air with her medal around her neck and twirled and twisted impressively. Trip didn’t know if she was intentionally putting on a show for those below or merely expressing her pleasure and appre
ciation of her treats, but ooohs and ahhhhs came from the crowd as she gyrated in the air, defying gravity. He sensed a palpable wave of disappointment when she disappeared from view, flying back to that rooftop to wait for Rysha to finish.

  The king thanked everyone for coming and invited them to enjoy snacks and drinks that would be brought out shortly—presumably, it had been deemed wise to wait for the dragon to leave before serving the refreshments intended for human guests.

  “Is she as pleased as she seemed?” Trip asked when Rysha came to stand next to him.

  The formal rows had broken up as soon as the king left the dais, his bodyguards surrounding him to keep him from being flocked by onlookers. Trip doubted anyone aside from the sword wielders had weapons or presented a danger to him, but the bodyguards were likely also there to keep people from pestering him about wedding details. He did walk straight over to join Major Kaika. After head nods and polite murmurs of “Sire,” Therrik and Zirkander stepped away from her side.

  “Very pleased,” Rysha said. “She kept me up late last night asking how the ceremony would go. I had no experience receiving awards—unless one counts the medals I won in sports, math, and spelling competitions as a youth—so I couldn’t tell her. I did relay stories of historical medal ceremonies for prominent heroes throughout the ages, though I couldn’t remember any tales of kings giving awards to dragons.”

  “I imagine it happened occasionally in the First Dragon Era.”

  “You would think so. I find it hard to believe that Shulina Arya is the first dragon delighted by such things. I believe it’s now a proven fact that sweets are the way to their hearts. But if Shulina Arya wants to believe she’s the first dragon to have been so honored by a human king, I see nothing wrong with that.”

  Trip nodded. “Seems reasonable to me. Do you think his comment about the army being your destiny will change your parents’ opinions of your career? I noticed he looked their way.”

  “We’ll see. I’m more concerned about changing their opinions of you.” Rysha clasped his hand. “Why don’t we go to them and see if they’re affected by how dapper and dashing you are? And flower-adorned.”

  “I’m willing. And my grandparents are here too. They’ll be pleased to see you again, I’m sure.”

  “That’s them at the buffet table, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, they’ve never been to the castle. I’m sure they’re eager to enjoy the offerings. Though my grandmother is probably already commenting on the food and remarking how her recipes are superior.”

  “Perhaps you can distract her by asking her about the empty lot they recently purchased.” Rysha’s eyes twinkled.

  It took Trip a moment to understand what she was implying—and to realize why she’d been acting like she knew something that he didn’t earlier.

  “I understand your grandmother has already had a long chat with Sardelle—she’s interested in helping out with your siblings—and that your grandfather has ordered lumber to start building soon.”

  “How did you know all this before I did?” Trip wondered if his grandparents had sent a letter and he had missed it. He couldn’t remember the last time he had checked the mail room at the barracks.

  Her eyes twinkled even more. “I haven’t been spending all my time at Bhrava Saruth’s temple, building weapons and cleaning latrines.”

  “Huh.”

  Telryn, Azarwrath said as Trip and Rysha walked hand-in-hand toward the crowd, I do believe you should visit your grandparents first. They’re far more pleasant than Rysha’s parents, and it’s been longer since you’ve seen them.

  You just want me to go to the buffet table and try the king’s food, don’t you?

  I have been observing the offerings as they’ve been brought out. The lobster is dripping with butter, there’s chilled caviar, and oh goodness, what are those slender steaks with some kind of jam on them? You must try everything, Telryn.

  “Are you all right?” Rysha asked, watching his face.

  “Yes, it’s just that my sword wants to fatten me up.”

  “Perhaps if you learn to shape-shift and fly, you’ll have the metabolism of a dragon and be able to eat whatever you want.”

  “Is it the flying that allows that or their size?”

  “I don’t know. That would be an interesting scientific study. I wonder if Shulina Arya would lend herself to it.”

  “Her parents would be interested, I imagine.”

  “It’s too bad they didn’t come to the ceremony,” Rysha said, “though I imagine there’s a limit to how many dragons can fit in the king’s gardens.”

  “Not really.” Trip pointed to a couple of familiar men at the buffet table dressed in professorial attire.

  Rysha laughed. “Oh good. I didn’t see them before.”

  Hurry, Telryn, or those shape-shifted dragons will eat all the food.

  Epilogue

  Rysha strolled arm-in-arm with Trip through the castle hallway toward the gardens, this time for a wedding rather than an awards ceremony. She would stand next to Kaika as one of her two chosen kin watchers, Major Blazer being the second. As kin watchers, they were responsible for ensuring the groom was sufficiently healthy and able to care for his bride. The duty amused Rysha vastly, given that Kaika was the last person who needed anyone to care for her… and Angulus surely qualified in any regard. But it was tradition. Fortunately, until the ceremony began, she was free to mingle and grope Trip’s arm.

  He looked particularly handsome today, having chosen his dress uniform rather than the fancy suits and sashes that many of the male guests favored. She knew it was because he didn’t want to spend money on clothing—he was carefully hoarding his nucros to help support his siblings—and that was fine with her. He looked good in a uniform. And whether intentionally or by accident, he seemed to be exuding a little of his dragon scylori today, which meant she would think he looked good in a threadbare bathrobe. Or nothing at all. Her thoughts drifted to the latter, and she smirked at him when their eyes met before they stepped out into the gardens.

  They had both been busy with their duties the last few weeks, but the evening before, the weather had cooperated, and they had finally strolled along the beach together. She’d picked up sand dollars. He’d picked up rusted tins and warped springs for whatever toy he planned to build for the children next. After that, they’d had a romantic dinner and she’d taken him back to her room, where they’d spent a lovely and uninterrupted night together.

  Trip blinked. “You’re imagining me naked.”

  “And you’re reading my mind.”

  “I didn’t try. I… it was near the surface.”

  “It often is.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Truly?”

  “Yes, and if you don’t often think of me naked, too, I’m going to be disappointed.”

  Another couple walked past then, an older husband and wife Rysha recognized from some of the social gatherings the nobles attended, and they gave her a scandalized look. She assumed they would fall over when they saw that Kaika and both of her kin watchers were active-duty military and attending the wedding in uniforms instead of fluffy, frilly dresses.

  I do think of you naked often, Trip said, switching to telepathy, for others were strolling past them and into the gardens. But I’m male. I believe such fantasizing is part of our nature. I always thought—your Aunt Tadelay has been reinforcing this notion, by the way—that women were less lustful and controlled by their, uhm, reproductive urges.

  You ought to know that’s not true. I’m usually the one to drag you off to bed because you’re distracted making toys and puzzles for babies, and gifts for Sardelle and me. Besides, you’ve met Kaika. You know she’s plenty lustful.

  This is true. It’s hard to imagine her and Angulus… I mean, he’s so serious and unflappable. He barely reacts to anything outwardly, at least when he’s around us.

  I’m sure he lets loose in bed and howls like a wolf.

  Trip looked horrified and braced hi
mself on the wall. I didn’t need that image in my head.

  You brought it up.

  Are you sure? That doesn’t sound right.

  Positive. Rysha swatted him on the butt and nodded toward the doorway.

  They stepped outside onto the elaborate brick-paver pathway that meandered through the gardens, leading to the same open area where the awards ceremony had been. Most of the lilacs had faded, but roses, hydrangeas, snapdragons, peonies, and winged dragons were all in bloom, filling the area with sweet and spicy scents.

  Rysha had been surprised when such an early wedding date had been announced—had foreign dignitaries even had time to travel here for it?—but she’d read between the lines that Angulus was concerned Kaika would get tired of the snide comments from the newspapers and the nobility and change her mind. He must have figured that once he got his promise necklace on her, she was most definitely his.

  “Are you nervous about standing next to Kaika?” Trip asked, switching to the spoken word, presumably since nudity was no longer being discussed.

  “A little bit. I’m surprised she asked me. We’ve been through a lot, but I’ve really only known her for a few months. I’m honored, of course, but she’s known Blazer for years.”

  “Maybe you’re the only other woman she knows.” He smirked at her.

  She gave him another swat, though she admitted it was possible. Kaika had all manner of men that she worked with and likely considered friends, but in the almost-all-male elite troops, it wasn’t as if she interacted with other female officers that often. And because she was busy and traveled so frequently for her missions, she might not have that much time to pursue local friendships, especially since she’d been seeing Angulus for the last three years. He was the local friendship she no doubt preferred to invest most of her time in.

  Trip nudged Rysha and drew her off the path so they wouldn’t be in the way. “I was joking. She sees you as her protégé. I think she was joking when she first used that term when we all met in General Zirkander’s office, but it’s not a joke to her anymore. She trusts you and sees you as her successor. She’s quite pleased that you’ve managed to survive all we’ve been through without getting killed or kicked out of the army.”