Mercedes Lackey - Aerie Page 3

  It might be furnace-hot in the canyons, but in the back of Kiron's second room, it was cool and comfortable. Kiron half closed the shutters to cut down on reflected glare from outside. With a sigh of relief the nine friends sprawled out in various positions of comfort, some of them taking advantage of the cool stone floor to let the heat leach out of their bodies.

  Kiron didn't exactly have a kitchen area—perhaps that was another reason why Aket-ten wouldn't move in with him—but he did have some heavy storage jars with even heavier pottery lids that kept the vermin out. From them he took out strips of dried and cured meat and flatbread, and dipped out beer into pottery cups that he handed round. Hardly fancy fare, but none of them were complaining. Perhaps later today, though, he should stop by what passed for a marketplace and get some onions. About the only time he got cooked food anymore was when he visited Sanctuary.

  "So, what is it that is buzzing in your head, Kiron?" asked Orest lazily. "Not that I mind all of us getting together for a change. We don't do that nearly enough." Aket-ten's brother, like all the Altans, was of a paler skin tone than the dark Tians, though the people of both kingdoms shared the same straight black hair and dark eyes. He had matured immeasurably over the last several moons. Then again, they all had. He used to be forgetful, and could be terribly lazy when he had to do something that didn't particularly interest him. Not anymore. Though he still had not broken himself of the habit of speaking first and thinking after.

  Kiron nodded at that last with a pang. For people who had been such close friends, and had gone through so much together, it troubled him that they saw so little of each other these days. And yet, there just was not enough time in a day for them to do everything they needed to. If only they could get some workers out here, or youngsters willing to serve as dragon boys for the chance at an egg themselves one day! Or both—actually, preferably both. Then, ah then, they might have some time to themselves… some time to get together when there wasn't something that needed to be talked about.

  Soon, if the gods were only pleased to grant it. Well, at least Ari was not ungenerous about supplying them with funds. They could certainly hire people, if only they could find them.

  He sighed.

  "It's the older Jousters," he said carefully. Orest snorted.

  "They're spoiled," Aket-ten's brother said without preamble. "All they do is complain and talk about how much better it used to be. They had everything done for them in the old days, and they want that back."

  "And you don't?" Kiron raised an eyebrow, and Orest had the grace to blush.

  Old days, Kiron couldn't help but be amused. The "old days" were mere moons ago.

  "Well—" Orest began.

  Huras, son of bakers who had lost everything when Alta's capital and port were destroyed by the Magi-caused earthshakes, sighed. "We all do," he admitted without a sign of embarrassment. "And maybe we'll get all that back one of these days. I hope. And I don't blame the older Jousters for wanting it either. My two—Well, I think they are doing pretty well, considering all they're having to do and learn just to be Jousters again. Having to cope with the way things are now is hard on them. But—I'll admit to you, I am getting tired of the complaints myself It's not as if we have extra workmen and dragon boys hidden away somewhere and are keeping them to ourselves, after all."

  There Huras, practical and level-headed as always, had struck the main point. They were all having to cope with a distinct lack of comfort. There were only one or two who had come from positions in life so low that the cave-houses were actually an improvement.

  "Well," Gan said, for once looking quite sober and serious, "I've thought about this a bit, and I've been keeping a bit of an eye on the old Jousters. No, they aren't comfortable. No, they don't fit in. Most of them are of much higher rank than the rest of us. All their lives they've had servants, and not just as Jousters. Our cave-houses really aren't much better than holes dug in the cliffs." Interesting to hear Gan saying this, ranking the situation into "we" and "them" and classing himself in the "we." Interesting, because Gan was noble-born himself. And before he'd become a Jouster, he'd had a bit of a reputation for putting on airs. "They're trying, they really are, but I wonder—I wonder if it wouldn't be easier for them if they didn't have to adjust to everything at once, and do it in the company of a lot of—ah—"

  Here, he clearly ran out of words for a polite description of the motley collection of former slaves, former serfs, common-born, and noble youngsters that comprised the bulk of the new Jousters.

  "A mixed lot, and most of us are quite young compared to them, and not well-born," Kiron finished for him. "We are the sort of people who would have been their servants, and not their brothers-in-arms."

  Gan nodded.

  "I've been thinking the same," Kiron said frankly. "And it seems to me maybe they would be more comfortable in their own wing. Granted, that would mean a wing that's pretty much comprised of former enemies, but—"

  "Yes, but isn't that what Ari and Nofret want? For Altans and Tians to start working together?" Gan replied with a shrug. "Anyway, they're thrown together with former enemies as it is. Not much change for them there. It might be they'll find more in common with each other than anyone thinks right now."

  Pe-atep, who had been yet another servant—the keeper of great hunting cats for a noble master—laughed. "At the very least, they will all of them have the same complaints about the 'young upstarts.' That ought to be a common bond."

  Kiron had to chuckle wryly. "Of course, I could be letting myself in for a lot of trouble," he pointed out. "When you think about it, I'm putting all the people who would rather I wasn't acting as leader of the Jousters in one wing."

  "Yes, but you'll have all of them in one place then," Orest pointed out. "With them scattered out across all the wings, there's always a chance their grousing will have an effect on some of the new ones who look up to them. Tucked into their own wing, they can't influence anyone but each other."

  "I also don't want them to think I'm trying to exile them—"

  Oset-re nodded, a knowing look on his handsome face. He was another well-born Jouster, and another who had matured in unexpected ways. He had been vain, and Kiron had not been sure he would last out the training at first. Now he was as steady as Huras. "They're more likely to take advice from another noble. I can talk to them individually, find out if they would rather have their own wing, then let them finally come around to delegating me to ask you to transfer them into a wing together. And I'll take them, if you like. I already have two of them, and they at least listen to me with respect because of my birth." He sighed dramatically and stared with melancholy at his rather dull meal. "The gods know rank doesn't get me anything else anymore."

  Orest snickered. Gan pouted with mock sympathy. "Oh, the tribulations we of noble blood must endure!"

  Menet-ka, once so shy, flung a pillow at his head. He caught it adroitly. "Why, thank you, brother. This is exactly what I needed," he said with a mocking bow as he tucked it under his rump. "How kind of you!"

  Menet-ka made a rude gesture, and they all laughed. "Seriously, though, that is a good idea," Kiron said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

  "Of course, it's a good idea. It's mine, isn't it?" said Oset-re. "If you start shuffling them about, Kiron, they'll resent it. If they think it's their own idea, they'll decide that 'the whelp' is finally learning to show some respect to his betters. Politics and people; it's all politics and people. I'm not the expert Lord Ya-tiren is, but those are the circles I grew up in, and I do know something of what to expect from folk in those circles."

  Kiron spread his hands. "In that case, as you volunteered, I accept." He sighed. "I didn't really want this position anyway."

  "You're the only one that isn't a worse choice," Huras said thoughtfully, in his deep voice. "I don't mean to say that the others are not competent, or at least most of them are, but—"

  "But we have a problem with some of them being truly unacceptable
to the older Jousters," Gan pointed out. "Haraket, for instance. You would think, seeing as he was the Overseer for the Dragon Courts, that they would think of him as one of them. But it doesn't work that way. Overseers are people you hire so that you need not dirty your hands with trivial details. And Baken—he was a slave. Doubly unacceptable. The very few nobles that are not unacceptable to us because they don't know a dragon from a doorpost are already integral members of Ari's advisers and far too busy for anything else."

  "What a comfort, knowing that I am the least objectionable rather than the best qualified," Kiron said dryly, and the others laughed. "I suppose that will have to do in lieu of approval. Though I would rather have Lord Ya-tiren or Haraket in charge here."

  And that was when another thing occurred to him. These were his friends. They were Aket-ten's friends… who better to ask for advice about his quandary. Not the personal one, but the one that affected the Jousters.

  "I have another problem," he said, a bit forlornly, which made them all prick up their ears. "And it's one that I can't think of any kind of solution for. Aket-ten wants me to give eggs to—girls."

  "Why?" Orest asked, looking just a touch contemptuous. "A girl wouldn't last ten days. Well, my sister and Nofret notwithstanding, I don't think a girl could take all the hard work involved in raising a dragon from the egg—"

  Gan and Huras rolled their eyes. Pe-atep snickered. Orest looked bewildered. "What?" he asked. "What?"

  "If you ever in your life wish to have pleasurable company from a young lady, never voice that sort of opinion aloud again," Huras said gravely.

  Orest's stunned expression made them all snicker. "I don't understand—"

  "Girls," Huras said carefully, "become women. Women often become mothers, raising children, who are far more trouble and take much longer to mature than a hatchling dragon. You belittle that work at your peril, for all females are very well aware of this role from quite early in life."

  Orest still looked bewildered, and Huras just shrugged. Kiron sighed. His friend was unbelievably dense sometimes. Just because Orest's mother had possessed a horde of servants to do all the unpleasant parts of child rearing for her, it simply did not occur to Orest—and this despite the fact that he himself was now having to do without servants—that other women did not enjoy similar privilege.

  Or if it did, he probably thought that older children in the family would take the jobs that servants did for the well-off. And to an extent, that was true, but that only meant that common-born girls became accustomed to the burdens of child rearing at a much younger age than their well-born counterparts.

  Oset-re pursed his lips. "I can see the problem. There are, well, a lot of young men and boys, most of whom have already had at least something to do with dragons, if they weren't already Jousters, waiting for eggs. And after them, more who were warriors. Giving even one egg to a girl—That is truly asking for trouble from those who have been waiting for a very long time."

  Kiron nodded. "But she is very unhappy that I have not at least considered it."

  Gan's eyes widened. "That kind of 'unhappy'? I wouldn't have thought that of her."

  "Not—exactly. But she has been making it—obvious—that she thinks I am being unfair." He sighed heavily. "She brings it up every time I see her, and she does have some good arguments. And all I can say is that it's impossible right now. Which doesn't please her, needless to say."

  "Too bad you didn't win a girl who only wanted jewels," Oset-re said with sympathy.

  "Have any of you any ideas?" he asked, looking from one to another of them hopefully. "I thought about telling her we would train any girl that managed to find her own egg or nestling, but—"

  Pe-atep shuddered. "A very, very bad idea," he said. "It's bad enough that some of the ones on the waiting list are going out with the old fledgling hunters trying to find a way to steal hatchlings. People will shrug and think it is sad if it's a fellow who gets hurt or even killed doing that. 'He knew the risks,' they'll say. If a girl got hurt or killed doing that, the blame would be on you. And maybe the ghost, too."

  "I wonder…" Menet-ka gazed off into the distance. "Now, here is a thought. Obviously we're trying to accommodate former Jousters and dragon boys first. They have the experience and something like the expertise, and even Aket-ten at her most stubborn would have to admit that. But when we finally get to people who want eggs but know nothing about dragons… I have a notion." His eyes returned to Kiron's and he smiled slyly. "And it will solve a problem as well. Make it known that from now on, anyone who wants to be a Jouster that doesn't have the experience must serve an—apprenticeship, call it—as a dragon boy. Or girl. For at least a year. Six moons serving an adult dragon, and six helping with a hatchling up to fledging"

  "Oh—oho!" said Gan appreciatively. "By the gods, that is a plan!"

  Kiron nodded slowly and felt himself beginning to smile as well. "Anyone who does this will find out precisely how much work an adult dragon is, and will see how much more work a hatchling and a fledgling is."

  Pe-atep pursed his lips dubiously. "We could have a very high loss of dragon boys. Some will quit within the first moon, I suspect."

  Kiron had to shrug at that. "And this would leave whoever had lost an apprentice at precisely the same point he was before he had an apprentice at all. I think all of us are used to the work now. Besides, it's better they quit as apprentices than take on a fledgling and abandon it."

  They were all silent on that point. No one had—yet. The closest that anyone had come was when Toreth had been murdered, leaving his dragon bereft. Aket-ten had saved it, comforting it mind-to-mind so that it rebonded with her. But what would happen if a hatchling was abandoned? There were no other Aket-tens about to comfort it. No, this would be much, much better, solving a potential problem and Kiron's own dilemma at a single blow.

  Huras nodded. "Personally, any help at all will be welcome. If it is only for a short time, it will still be welcome." Kiron smiled at him. That is exactly the sort of thing he would have expected of the easygoing Huras.

  "Then that is exactly what I will do," he said, with a nod. "And if a young woman does not feel easy being an apprentice to one of the existing Jousters, she will just have to wait her turn being apprentice to Nofret or Aket-ten. That seems fair to me."

  And hopefully it would appease Aket-ten at last.

  Kiron looked up at the sky where the young dragons were soaring in the thermals of late afternoon, then back at the lists Haraket was presenting for his perusal, and sighed.

  "You know," he said unhappily, "no matter what I decide on this, someone is going to object."

  "I know," the former Overseer said, running a hand over his shaved head. "I know it only too well."

  "Of course you do," Kiron sighed. There were two lists. The first was of items of construction and furnishings that had just come in from the arduous crossing of the desert. The second, and much longer, was the list of who had requested what items. There were at least two and often a dozen claimants for a single object.

  "So what do I do?" he asked forlornly.

  "If it were me? Take a walk. Look over what people already have. Some of them have already paid for things out of their own pocket, or brought them in on their own dragons. See what they have, cross things off their list that they've gotten for themselves. Then start with the people that haven't hardly got a stick. Give them each one thing, and work your way down the list. Don't give anyone more than one thing. That's what I'd do."

  Kiron nodded thoughtfully. This was the first "official" caravan of goods coming directly from Mefis and the vizier of the Great King and Queen. There would be more; Ari had finally gotten them scheduled. But every new arrival would mean the same clamor for what was on those camels.

  He sighed. "Which means another list. Who's gotten what from the caravan. So it all gets parceled out equally until everyone has what they need."

  "That is what I would do," Haraket said. "It seems the fairest and w
isest course of action." Again, he ran his hand over his hairless head. "I am glad it is you who is responsible for the decisions," the former Overseer said ruefully. "I got a belly full of the results when I was in charge of the Dragon Courts, and that was in our days of plenty."

  Kiron rubbed his hands over the heated skin of his biceps. "I appreciate the aid, Haraket," he said, with a grimace, "But I still would rather it was you."

  "You're getting all bound up in this nonsense, boy," Haraket said, then grinned. "Excuse me. Captain of Dragons. Go take Avatre out. Hunt if you want to, but get in some practice, too. Combat practice, even if your targets are nothing but thorn trees. There's an itching in my bones that says that dragons and Jousters will be fighting again, maybe sooner than we think."

  Kiron looked up alertly at those words. Haraket shook his head. "No, I've never been god-touched, but I do get feelings, and they're more often right than wrong. Get some practice in. If nothing else, you'll feel better for it."

  Since the alternative was an afternoon listening to people complain about things he could do nothing about, he took Haraket's advice, left the lists in his quarters, and called Avatre down from her sunning post. She did not look at all loath to quit it, and kept her head up, gazing about alertly as he saddled her and added the combat weapons. He'd always had the feeling that she had enjoyed combat, too, and her reactions seemed to confirm that.

  So did the fact that she leaped into the air as soon as he was firmly settled in her saddle.

  He gave her no directions, however; since the other dragons of Aerie were not out hunting, it would not matter if she entered someone else's hunting ground. It was by general agreement that no two dragons, with the exception of Avatre and Re-eth-ke, shared the same hunting ground. They were generally as good and as reliable as the best-trained hunting dogs, but—

  But another thing that no one had tested, and no one wanted to risk, was having two dragons come down on the same kill. Dragons in the wild fought over kills. Would the human-raised ones? No one knew. Avatre and Re-eth-ke cooperated because Aket-ten was there to tell them to, speaking in thoughts and images in their minds. Without Aket-ten there—