Dragon Strike (Age of Fire #4)

The Ironriders simply touched their foreheads to the hem of her dress.

Then they spoke. The Red Queen seemed conversant in many tongues. She rarely spoke at any length. When quarrels broke out she silenced them immediately.

Servants, human and blighter, brought food and drink around.

Finally she waved him over.

“This is AuRon, a prince of dragons out of the north,” she said. “We think he may serve as a suitable emissary to the dragons of the Lavadome.”

“I knew this dragon when he was but a wingless drake, I believe, my queen,” Sekyw said. “We crossed the plains together in the traveling towers. I know him to be trustworthy.” Sekyw shot a guilty glance at AuRon. “He did the dwarves great service in battle. He is loyal to his friends, very loyal.”

“Ghioz looks everywhere for friendship,” the Red Queen said.

The Ironriders said something in a tongue AuRon did not know, but he recognized the Parl word for dragons.

“Yes, yes, everyone must have dragons to accomplish their goal. That is the difficulty. There are so few, at least who will act with intelligence. Remember the stupidity of the ones used to human direction, how easily they died when left to their own devices in conquering the Chushmereamae Archipelago. I have sent you roc-riders for scouting, and that will have to do.

“So, what will it be, AuRon? I offer you a title, if you will take it. You’ll find the duties light and our friendship worth thrice the pittance we ask in return.”

“It is a poor island, Great Queen. It offers little except fish and seal-meat.”

“But it does have dragons. Dragons, being intelligent, powerful, and winged, are the most useful of allies.”

“Join? I cannot make up my mind about so important a decision without consulting others. My hatchlings, however, need coin, and need it soon if they are to grow up strong.”

“Then you will find us a generous commissioner. We need a messenger to go to your kind in the Lavadome and offer them friendship. Through blunder and misunderstanding, we have fought at the Sloai horsedowns and in Bant. We were considering sending another as emissary, but his past in the Lavadome might carry along prejudice against our intent. You, as a fresh face, could be fairly heard.”

“What would your message be, Great Queen?”

“The friendliest of messages. Only that there be a dialogue between worlds, upper and lower, so that we might settle disputes without bloodshed.”

“Your terms?”

“Upon a dragon from the Lavadome attending as an ambassador to my court, and the appointment of an ambassador from Ghioz to the Lavadome, and the establishment of communications each way, we will present to you a ransom in pure gold coin.”

“A ransom?”

“Do you know our weights and measures?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“It is about the weight of a full-grown male bull.”

“That is a substantial sum indeed.”

“Then the terms are satisfactory?”

“The mission may fail. I would like to be compensated in that eventuality.”

“One-quarter shall be yours, then.”

“I do not know your customs, Great Queen. How do we call it a bargain?”

“There are seals and such that can be set upon paper, but they are only as good as one’s word, and you already have ours.”

AuRon decided that if nothing else, contact with other dragons would be beneficial. He hoped there weren’t remnants of the wizard’s old armada lurking in this Lavadome, nursing a grudge against the one who brought about their master’s fall. “Then you have mine as well.”

“We are always happy to come to agreement.”

“Will you satisfy me on something?” AuRon asked.

The mask spun around, and briefly frowned, then the smiling side turned back again. AuRon judged it a warning to get to the point. “We have other business this day, but you have our attention.”

“The friend I lost—DharSii spoke of her. How long had she been in the service of Ghioz? What were her aims and goals and so on?”

“Friend? Another dragon?”

“Yes.”

“There is some misunderstanding. We never had her in our service. We are afraid she was friend to the blighters and guarding a very great prize. As an obstacle to our will, she had to be removed. DharSii was fond of her, and gave her every opportunity to escape destruction.”

“She fought against DharSii, not with him?”

“That is our understanding. We regret that the encounter could not have ended more happily. According to DharSii, she was a worthy dragon.”

After all these years. If he’d come east just a few months earlier. . . . why couldn’t those cursed treasure-hunters have taken advantage of the first warm spring winds?

The last of his old family, gone. Why couldn’t dragons stay out of hominid quarrels? But hominids acquired gold like ants seeking fallen fruit, and dragons needed that gold. So here he was, mixing in hominid affairs again.

Maybe DharSii was right about the Ghioz. They are strong, and a tree does better to bend with a strong wind if it wishes to keep limbs intact.

He still had his new family to think about. They must come first.

“Does this change matter?” the Red Queen asked. “You may alter your decision. We have no desire to place such a mission on unwilling wings.”

“I am sorry that events went the way they did,” AuRon said. “But I still need that gold. The sooner I may claim it, the better.”

“Very well. Return to the fountain inside and we will have further instruction, and a small gift.”

AuRon idled by the fountain, thinking. The Red Queen’s evident desire for good relations with his island might be to his advantage after all. She seemed a wise ruler, and anyone who could bring different tribes of Ironriders together must be a diplomat to be reckoned with.

It grew dark outside and servants lit a few lamps. The staircases turned into pathways to shadow and doubt, but the flow of water remained constant. Eventually, even the faint sounds of stonecutting ceased.

The Red Queen reappeared, moving slowly but surely.

“A long day. We have ordered food to be brought to the stable door for you, so that you may eat before setting off, or sleep and then leave in the morning, if you prefer.”

“Thank you, Great Queen.”

“I have a simple message in Parl. Do you read it?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a scroll-tube on an oversized chain. The clasp was big enough for dragonclaws to easily work it. He extracted the message and read it, a simple, friendly offer to establish ambassadors between Ghioz and the Lavadome so that future conflicts between the Upper and Lower Worlds might be avoided. There were three seals, of gold, silver, and red wax at the bottom.

“You need a badge of rank as well,” she said, after he replaced the message in the scroll-tube. “Wear this to show you have our confidence.”

The leather blighters appeared at a wave. One carried a long, thin chain with a crystal pendant dangling at the end. AuRon examined both it and the chain closely. They seemed harmless. The crystal was of unusual clarity, with just a hint of milkiness to one side. The stone didn’t look like a diamond.

“Would you like it around your neck? DharSii wore his in his ear, back when he was an emissary.”

“The neck would suit me.”

The blighters fixed it around him as she showed him a map. He asked a few questions about the landmarks mentioned.

“So this bridge deep in a canyon cavern will lead me there, Great Queen?” he asked.

“There are other ways, we believe, but it would be better for you to take that one. It is the surest path, and well guarded so that your coming will not be a surprise. There is another entrance we know of in Bant, but there has been much blood spilled there. A message brought through Bant would just remind everyone of this.”

The Red Queen walked around in front of him to admire the necklace.

“That does look well. We guessed the length just right.” She raised the smiling mask to his face. “You are a brave dragon, AuRon.”

“I might say the same about you. A Queen who converses with a dragon without fear or bodyguards all around.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose you could envelop me in flame, if you were mad enough to do such a thing. But remember, I’ve far too much to do to do something as wasteful as dying.”

BOOK TWO

Improvise

FATE FIGHTS ON THE SIDE OF THE PREPARED.

—Irelia Antialovna

Chapter 11

Wistala, with food in her stomach giving her energy and a mind wishing diversion from the aches of healing, learned much about these “Firemaids” and the dragons they protected as they traveled from post to post.

It seemed there were three strains of dragonkind, according to her rescuers. The Skotl were reckoned the best fighters, as they tended to be the biggest and thickest of scale. They were also the most numerous, by a thin margin, though they were flexible enough to count any largish dragon as an honorary Skotl regardless of bloodline, so their counts couldn’t be trusted. The Anklenes were the cleverest, as they’d once been close servants of the ancient Anklamere, who’d once kept and bred dragons much as dragons now kept other races as thralls. The Anklenes were the fewest and the most clannish. The Wyrr considered themselves the mortar that held the others together, noted for their cool heads and sound judgment and skill at song, story, and sooth.