Page 168 of Dragon Champion (Age of Fire 1)

“You would know best, young dragon,” Staretz chuckled.

“A legion of chieftains gather, each with their legion of spears behind. We will roll like a wave westward, and again all the lands between the cloud peaks and the great East will be ours. As it was in the days of Great Uldam. We will not fail. Will you join our numbers and earn your reward?”

To his credit, Unrush leapt to his feet and roar out his agreement, though he trembled. AuRon knew his blood pulsed with hopes of battle and glory, but he had his people to consider.

“I must consult,” Unrush said.

“Consult?” Staretz laughed. “Ha! Great kings are not made by consultation. They are made by decision.”

“He must consult with me,” AuRon said. “I am his liege lord, and if he wishes me to be at the head of the fireblades, we must speak alone.”

“Time runs short,” Staretz said. “I leave Balazeh and Korutz to hear your answer. I must go east, and speak to the Umazheh of the river, your cousins.”

“Stay with us. A few days won’t matter,” Unrush said.

“I leave in the morning, before the sun rises. The spirits compel me to make haste. Every spear will count in the reckoning that approaches.”

Unrush gave instructions for Staretz and his retinue to spend the night in his lodge. Balazeh and Korutz retired with the magus. Unrush ordered his family to show them every hospitality, then returned to the center of the village.

“Let us sleep, under the stars AuRon, for there is much to be discussed.”

The celebration continued. The hints of war raced through the camp like shooting stars, causing brief outbursts of excitement as the rumors passed. Hieba, still fatigued from her journey and captivity, slept against AuRon’s belly as he turned his neck to face Unrush across the coal-pit. The red glow made the chieftain look like some god of war cast in bronze. He fingered a curved dagger that he wore on his thigh, a prize of the Battle of the Misted Dawn.

“What is your mind on what Staretz has said?” AuRon asked.

“He speaks like something out of a legend,” Unrush said. “But how is the truth gained? He is not the first to see the fulfillment of prophecies. But the Umazheh grow excited, I can feel it.”

“You’ve started your people on a good path,” AuRon said. “What was empty meadow now has flocks, and where flocks once grazed, there are villages. This place has become what men would call a town, even if your streets are in rings and your huts still roofed with thatch.”

Unrush nodded. “Next the Kwo-Atlsh-Hen, the High Mountain Road will be built, a shortcut of bridges over the gorges and through the passes that will link the villages. Bridges of stone there will be.”

“War will mean an end to that,” AuRon said. “Your stonemasons will have to swing axes rather than hammers, your blacksmiths will make weapons instead of tools, and your laborers will carry spears rather than earth.”

“Why build a kingdom when conquest gives?”

“Unrush, you’ve seen battle. I fear your people will be fed into war, like charcoal into this firepit, to roast another’s feast. I also tell you that the men on the other side of the Falnges know what is coming; you will find them prepared. Hieba told me as much.

“I will go away with her; an old friend calls. I may not return. You’ve shown wisdom in leading your people, and I wish to give you the cave, my books, all the dominion I asked in our original bargain. You have many good years left to live. Think of what you can build and leave for your family, your people, if you devote the rest of your days to their future, rather than risk them in war.”

Unrush leaned back, stunned. “You would give Kraglad?”

“The seat of the dragon-throne could be beneath the old statue.”

“The sun-shard,” Unrush mused.

“A gift to you and to your people. I hope you will take my advice and learn from the library. There are lifetimes’ worth of wisdom there.”

“My mind warned against war, though my heart lusted after it. I will follow my mind’s path. You will live in our songs as the patron of a people.”

The dawn came. Unrush’s village woke to a brilliant summer dawn, a yellow sun set against the sky of the deepest blue. AuRon had not slept. His mind raced with the thought of leaving his cave, doubt and hope at war for his spirit.

He felt Hieba stir at his side. She yawned and joined a file of blighters going to the town’s bathing spring, cranky children in tow.

Staretz and his two ambassadors held court with Unrush and some of his people. AuRon picked out a few words: “One war in my lifetime is enough” and “You toss away greatness for your people” from Unrush and the ambassador Korutz respectively. Dragons do not smile naturally, but AuRon, having picked up the gesture somewhere or other, found his facial muscles pulling the ends of his mouth up at the news. Unrush had shown himself wiser than the venerable Staretz, and more persuasive, for his chieftains gathered behind him, symbolically backing him.

The magus left, surrounded by well-wishers, those wishing to have their fortunes told, and sufferers of disease or injury. AuRon craned his neck to look at the spring, where Hieba stood waiting her turn in a line of blighters for morning ablutions and cooking water. AuRon wanted to get her back to the cave. There were a few books he wanted and he needed Hieba’s help to fashion bags to carry them away. Blighters tossed some of the bony remains of last night’s dinner into a garbage pit outside the village walls, and AuRon slithered out to join the dogs in a hunt for leftover morsels, more out of competitive interest in stealing a choice tidbit from the hounds than real hunger. As he nosed among the bones, Staretz led his retinue out of the village on his hairy camel. The magus’s face wore a mask of magnificent indifference to the rebuff. Blighters accept victory with song, and act as if defeat had not happened.

AuRon was glad to have the distasteful camel smell out of his nose.

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