Members of the Dragonguard gathered, and Eliam stood before the Wyrmmaster, his hand on his sword hilt. AuRon tried to keep his tail still.
“Someone at Maganar said this? It wouldn’t be that elf calling himself Wickman, would it? Tall, thin, spidery looking?”
“There’s an elf in Maganar?” the Wyrmmaster said.
“Perhaps a part elf, but he looked and smelled of it. I thought it strange, but as I was new there—”
The Wyrmmaster rounded on his men. “Who served at the battle with the Wheel of Fire?”
“Me, sir!” a Dragonguard said.
“With Thunderarm, was there a strange man, tall and thin?”
“Yes, sir. Dark as well, and most of the rest were fair. He seemed an odd duck. Stayed out of the battle, but he was older, and none of the woodmen thought aught of it, so neither did we. Name was Wicker or something.”
“Wickman?”
“Yes, sir, I think that’s it.”
The Wyrmmaster turned red. “By the storms, Thunderarm’s held a viper to his bosom. No wonder his mind was poisoned to me. This elf’s had his ear long before this dragon came. That’s how the elves work, my men, since the first man planted his crop and looked to build a cabin in their woods. They plot and they plan and they infiltrate and deceive with honeyed words that hide the taste of hemlock. He’d have me doubt my own messenger, this dragon who’s lost three kingstones of flesh winging my messages as fast as the wind. Someone will be taken to account for this!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t report him to you sir,” the Dragonguard said, visibly worried. “Now that I’m thinking of it, he did bathe a lot. Had books, too.”
“They’re master deceivers, and honest men like you look for only truth in their fellowship. But don’t worry, the true hearts will get their reward, here and in the afterlife. We’ll claim our birthright, and the tricksters will get what’s coming to them. Books! Bathing, in lavender-scented water no doubt. Effeminacy and corruption among our ranks. No wonder the battle was so hard. The dwarves no doubt had warnings, or more.”
Flecks of spittle appeared at the Wyrmmaster’s mouth as he continued. “What diseased seeds have been planted in honest Maganar, I wonder? I can guess. I’ve seen it before, time and time again. Defeatism. Dwarf-love. Empty cradles, too, for the elves will take a babe and raise it for their wicked purposes at times. Their crimes are well documented. It’s our job to see that the truth is told.”
“Send me back with some riders, Your Supremacy,” AuRon said. “Give me a day to recover, and send me back with some of your true men. We’ll take this spy before he knows his web has been discovered. They’ll get a good look at his ears, and with that evidence open him up and see what the shape of his heart is. But take my advice and never trust the men of Maganar in battle again. Leave them in peace, until generations have passed and unspoiled minds are ready for the truth.”
“No, good dragon, you won’t go back just yet. You’ll take rest, and a deserved reward for a job well done. Not only have you brought me good news in record time, you’ve unmasked a traitor, tripped up by his own evil plots. Eat and sleep, fair and faithful servant.”
AuRon bowed, and backed out of the hall. He met the eye of Eliam. The lone orb held the hatred of two.
Chapter 26
AuRon slept with one eye open. It was a trick he had never managed when he was younger, but lying in an unprotected cave off a tunnel that anyone might come down forced him to learn how to do it. Being afraid for your life sharpened the powers of concentration.
The Dragonguard was watching him. Eliam Dragonblade must have passed the word quietly among his men, for AuRon felt their eyes upon him even when they had their visors down. There were the sounds of footsteps following him when he went outdoors. Footsteps echoing in tunnels that stopped when he did. Even at feeding times, there were extra men milling about.
“Watch yourself, NooShoahk,” Varl muttered as he cleaned up the bony remains of a meal—the food was of such quality and quantity AuRon now only ate the bones richest in marrow. “Nothing’s been said to me direct, but I hear His Excellency Eliam is hoping on a fight. Word is the Dragonguard’s to stick you at any excuse.”
“That’s odd. It could be the accusations against me from Maganar.”
“Maybe it’s Starlight’s doing. He doesn’t care for rivals, as I said.”
“We’re to carry these when we’re around you,” Varl said, showing AuRon one of the special poisoned daggers carried by the Dragonguard, from its concealed sheath under his jerkin.
“I’m in your debt,” AuRon said.
“I’ve been around enough beasts to know the good from the bad,” Varl said. “You’re one of the good ones, NooShoahk.”
“I might say the same about you.”
The warning floated at the top of AuRon’s consciousness from then on. AuRon wished for another assignment, just for the chance to fly free of searching eyes and stealthy steps. He’d been through many dangerous times in his life, but except for his capture by the elves he’d always been free. It never occurred to him that he could lose his freedom without someone putting a collar about his neck and a muzzle on his snout, but that was how he felt in the caverns of the Wyrmmaster. He pitied the dragons where in, who’d never touched the sky except at the behest of a rider.
There was more on his mind than just the Dragonguard. He found himself thinking of Natasatch, her shimmering green skin and elegant frame. The thought of other dragons scrabbling at her flanks—ignoring the ancient dragon mating rituals in eager lust—made his fire bladder boil. By the egg that protected him, the next time he faced another member of the breeding stock in battle, he’d give it a fight to remember! He wanted to see her, smell her, talk to her, with such longing that sleeping with even one eye closed became an impossibility. Gentle questioning of Varl revealed that there were no subsidiary entrances to the dragonelle’s cavern, at least nothing large enough to admit any but a new hatchling.
Relief of a sort came one night as AuRon thrashed in circles, unable to settle into a comfortable position. He thought over her words, the soothing cadence of her voice, in an attempt to lull himself.
“AuRon, AuRon, if only you could be beside me. It’s all I want, more than air and sun, more than a bellyful of eggs. Just you, AuRon.”
Pleasant fantasy!
“I’d be there if I could,” AuRon imagined himself saying in return, comforting her in the damp of her cave. “I’d take you to the sky, and you’d hear my song, your scales glittering like elf-diamonds in the sun.”
“AuRon, is that you?”
Odd thing for a fantasy to say. Didn’t she see him right next to her? Didn’t she feel his tail entwining with hers? Then it occurred to him that he felt other thoughts and emotions behind the words.
“You’re still in the dragonelle cavern?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“Then we’re communicating, through many dragon-lengths of solid stone. I didn’t know it was possible. I don’t hear anyone else.”
“Our minds must have found each other,” she said.
“Are you all right?”
“As well as ever. There’s a new dragonelle here. Shadowcatch is giving all his attention to her. Poor thing, she’s barely fledged.”
“I don’t have another turn until after Starlight,” AuRon said. “I long to see you.”
“I long to see you,” she echoed.
AuRon heard footsteps. “There’s someone coming. What’s Shadowcatch like?”
“Bloated. Loud. He’s a black, a bit on the dull side.”
“His scales or his manner?” AuRon asked, a thought tickling at him.
“Both.”
There was someone at AuRon’s bay, but he pretended to be asleep.
“There’s going to be trouble tomorrow or the next day. I can feel it. Epinonia, Alhala, and Ouistrela are all ready to lay. Starlight’s doing, I expect. Ouistrela’s fought the rest off, but she’s scared of Starlight’s bite. She submitted.”
“I must go—,” AuRon said, breaking contact and rolling his watchful eye.
Eliam Dragonblade stood in the shadows of the tunnel, picking at a fingernail with a dagger. It had sawtoothed edges and narrowed near the hilt. The dagger looked to AuRon like the one Varl showed him. Two more of the Dragonguard stood behind.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but I have news.” Something that would have been a smile on another crawled across his face like an insect.
“We all do what we can. Those who can’t make news deliver it. Another victory across the sea while you stayed here, cutting the throats of bound dragonelles?”
“Two pieces of news,” he said, ignoring the taunt. “Three riders have been sent to Maganar, to get to the bottom of the deception taking place. They’ll be back within the week, NooShoahk.” He placed the tiniest emphasis on the name.
“Wise of His Supremacy to act quickly,” AuRon said.