Dragon Rule

“Men rarely remember anything once the generation who saw it dies off. They’ve already half-forgotten Tindairuss and NooMoahk. Their deeds might as well be fairy tales, and they had a much more impressive alliance that freed a world. All too soon they were right back to fearing and hating us—not without cause, I suppose. One bad dragon can make thousands of men miserable. I wonder if we’ll ever work it out.”

“Quit wondering and start working to make it happen. Tyr RuGaard could use us. Imfamnia said she’d teach me all about being a Protector. By learning caution from you and charm from her, I’ll be formidable one day, I daresay.”

“Ever the practical dragon-dame. I don’t doubt it, once you get your teeth into a scheme you don’t let go. You’re the best part of me.”

They had a farewell meal the next morning, mostly broths made of animal fats with cold joint jelly so they wouldn’t be weighted down with heavy digestion in the air.

There was no honor guard, and the musicians were probably still recovering from the strenuous efforts of their arrival.

“I wish we could convince you to stay another few days,” Imfamnia said. “The moon is so lovely this time of year as the air cools and dries. Sometimes it turns quite blue, and I understand that’s an omen of change for the better. You should remain with us to enjoy it.”

“My lord insists that we return to Dairuss,” Natasatch said.

“Pity,” Imfamnia said, looking at AuRon, who was already extending and relaxing his wings.

“I believe matters on the northeastern frontier of the Empire are in good standing,” NiVom said. He looked exhausted. Was he giving blood to his gargoyles?

“Don’t you mean the Grand Alliance?” AuRon asked.

“I like to call things by their real name,” NiVom said. “Make no mistake, this is a new Dragon Empire. I hope our long years in the Lavadome have toughened us to run it properly.”

AuRon thought his scale looked a little dull. He probably wasn’t eating right, chasing around bats and thrashing his slaves.

“What would you do to improve on the present arrangement?” Natasatch asked.

“Stronger lines of authority with the humans. Those who properly submit to our will do well, others will be destroyed. Your brother thinks that they’ll act in their own interest, and in the interest of the alliance. Rationality and analysis from hominids? Maybe among educated dwarfs, but from these men of Hypatia? Lazy scut. His belief that humans can act rationally where dragons are concerned could prove our doom.”

NiVom paused, as if judging whether his words would bring argument. He sent the thralls away with a slap of his tail against the surface of the courtyard.

One of the workmen far above dropped a hammer in fright at the sound.

“RuGaard chose badly in his selection of allies. Certainly, we should select one nation of hominids and promote their interests, so that in return they’d be hated by the others and be forced to seek the protection of dragons or lose all, but Hypatians! They’re blood has bled out and run cold centuries ago. Dragons need vigorous conquerors at their side, not dissipated philosophers. He should have built around Ghioz.”

“Vigorous conquerors might be more likely to revolt, don’t you think?” Natasatch asked.

“The Alliance seems to be functioning well enough,” AuRon said.

“Must we spoil a delightful visit with politics?” Imfamnia asked. “Our guests don’t need to leave with their ears ringing. This is a farewell and goodwind toast, not an Ankelene conferral.”

NiVom ignored his mate. “To tell you the truth, AuRon, it’s Ghioz that’s mostly holding it up. Hypatia will take many years to rebuild after centuries of neglect. Tyr RuGaard is a little too impressed, I think, with old monuments and columns to achievements far out of living memory. Our Empire should support us, not the reverse.”

“Doesn’t it? Naf feeds us well, even if it’s just mutton.” AuRon said. “Ghioz is famous for its cattle and horses; you should eat more of them. Especially the liver.”

“I wanted to warn you, AuRon, war may be coming with the blighters of Old Uldam. No raid this time, but actual conquest. We may need your assistance.”

“Why will the Alliance do that?”

“I’ve an interest in that city. The sun-shard lived there for many years.”

“Lived?” AuRon asked. “It’s a rock that glows.”

“What do you know about the old statue?”

“It gave off enough light to read by,” AuRon said.

“You never felt any strange effects? Lapses of time, missing gaps where you found you’d done something and forgotten it?”

“No. NooMoahk used to sleep curled around it. He’d become addled, and challenge anyone in the chamber, thinking they were trying to harm him.”

“Or it. Perhaps it was protecting itself.”

“A piece of quartz was trying to preserve itself?”

“It’s no ordinary piece of quartz, or glass. It may be alive, though not as we know it. Many have died to gain or protect it.”

“Again with the sun-shard,” Imfamnia said. “It’s safe in the Lavadome, though I’d rather use it to impress the blighters. What do we care?”

“What is it for, then?” AuRon asked.

“It has something to do with the Wizard Anklemere, and the Lavadome, we believe,” NiVom said.

“Anklemere. I’ve heard of him again and again. If he was so powerful, I wonder how he was ever beaten,” Natasatch said.

“Like many would-be world conquerers, he was so focused on the horizons, he tripped over his own feet,” AuRon said. “That’s how King Naf tells it, anyway.”

“Tell us one thing,” NiVom said. “Your sister, Wistala, if it came between her brother and peace in the Lavadome, which would she choose?”

“Wistala and I have been long apart. She clings to her own ideals about dragons and hominids working together as equals. I know she believes in the Grand Alliance, and is doing her best to further it, but a Queen-Consort or whatever they’re calling her has many duties. I haven’t spoken to her since I became Protector.”

“Perhaps you could sound her out on the matter for us. No need to mention our names, though,” NiVom said.

Imfamnia glared at her mate, and AuRon was sure he heard griff being tightened to keep from rattling.

“She’ll certainly oppose Tyr RuGaard if she believes he’s not playing fair by the hominids she cares for,” AuRon said.

“The Tyr’s reign won’t last forever. I hope your sister is sensible about it, when the end does come.”

“I won’t regret it,” AuRon said.

Imfamnia relaxed a little. “Please, enough idle chatter about our good Tyr. There are all these rumors passing around about him giving up his position to be with his mate and selecting a successor. That sort of rumor gets tongues wagging. Remember, AuRon, and remember for him, Natasatch, this was just idle talk between neighbors. You, NiVom, were up too late working again. I suggest you rest your mouth and your body.”

As if some understanding had passed between them, Imfamnia called out thralls who tied bags of farewell presents around their necks. She opened the bags to highlight a few. Some were delicacies in pots, others trinkets of copper and brass, for wearing or for eating.

“I very much enjoyed this visit,” Natasatch said. “You know you are free to come and spend a few days with us any time.”

“Didn’t I say we would be great friends?” Imfamnia asked. “Perhaps we will come. I want to know what you eat to keep your claws so strong. Mine get worn down just handling fabric, I oath.”

The four dragons exchanged bows and the Protectors of Dairuss took wing. The thralls let out a loud cheer as they rose into the air. AuRon guessed they’d been ordered to, under pain of punishment.

They flew home over the course of a day’s journey of easy, brief flights, laden as they were by presents and trinkets. They opened one of the pots on a mountainside and enjoyed honey-roasted organ meats stuffed with smoked fish.

They passed the trinkets back and forth. Natasatch agreed that it was junk, but they might as well keep it against a rainy day when metal ran short.

Their little cave, looking out on the Golden Dome and Naf’s thriving, smoky city, in the early winter chill, was a welcome relief after the pomp of Ghioz.

They alighted. “Good to be back,” AuRon said. He wondered how soon he could get away to speak to Naf. There was much he wished to discuss.

“I smell Istach,” Natasatch said. “She must have come from the Lavadome with a message.”

In returning to the cave, they woke their offspring. Istach jumped to her feet.

“A dragon, a dragon has come, Father. He wishes to speak to you. He’s back in the deep room.”

AuRon recognized the odor of a healthy male dragon as he descended. The blazing, almost red-orange scales and the black stripes stood out even in the dim reflected light of the deep cave.

“Greetings, AuRon,” DharSii said. “Is this your mate and the mother of your quiet daughter? Honored to meet you, madam. I’m afraid there’s a war in the offing, and we may be on opposite sides of it.”