Page 109 of Dragon Outcast (Age of Fire 3)

The lounging drakes chuckled, and even SiDrakkon deflated a little. “Confound it, we were supposed to have more baskets of chickens. Where are they now?” He swung around and stalked back up the line.

Nivom edged closer. “What do you mean, your line was thick-bodied? You still live, so your line does.”

“Bad wing. I’ll never be able to mate.” At least the words came out with a dragonly inflection. He felt comfortable around Nivom.

“Nobody cares about those back-mountain rituals anymore. Well, almost nobody.”

SiDrakkon, satisfied at last with the preparations, set the column in motion. They left the Lavadome, with the tunnel guardians of the Drakwatch and the Firemaids raising their necks and trumpeting.

The families of the thralls in the baggage train who’d made the trip to the assembly camp added their own wails. Bits of wood and bone on string were passed from fathers to sons, or between mates. The Copper had been told a dragon could spend a lifetime describing the different good-luck charms and fetishes of the hominid races.

SiDrakkon placed him behind the thralls of the column, with the rear duelist dragon and the sissa of the Drakwatch. They came to the encircling river and he again took in the wonder of the high-walled cavern, with sunlight falling through the cracks and landing in golden slivers upon the fetid water. A group of hatchlings sunbathed under the watchful eyes of their mother, and two young dragons swam. Probably newly mated, the Copper thought with a pang.

There were boats drawn up for the thralls and provisions. The dragons all swam.

“You’ll need to ride in a boat, I expect,” SiDrakkon said as he watched the thralls load the last boat.

“No, sir. I’m a strong swimmer,” the Copper said, plunging into the water.

“Don’t come crying halfway across. Maybe one of the bodyguards will let you ride on their back, but I won’t carry you.”

“Of cowse not sir.”

“And stop that flapping lisping!”

“Y-yes.”

The Copper clasped limbs to body and swam off after the sissa.

At the other side of river—two bonfires marked the wade-out—the Copper was able to lose his shame again in the fascinating activity of loading and manning the rut-carts.

Here by the river ample cave moss lit the scene. A wide tunnel, with two shining bands of metal running off into its darkening length, left sun-shafted beachfront and disappeared back into the depths of the Lower World. The Copper was so used to the pool of yellow light coming down from the top of the Lavadome or the orange flicker of fat-lamps that the faint green glow of the moss seemed strange again.

Wheeled contraptions rested on the bands of metal. Some had sides; some were just flat platforms, but all ran on four or, rarely, six wheels. The wheels were small things, with lips along the inside that kept them in place on the iron bars. Specialized thralls, barefoot with thick leather belts and wrist braces, minded the oily-smelling joints and laid out and checked pulling lines.

They were dwarvish contraptions, of course.

“I’ve seen these lines in tunnels before,” the Copper said to Nivom.

“They’re rut-carts. Have you ever seen a road?”

“No.”

Nivom never minded showing off his knowledge. “In the Upper World hominids use these chariots and wheeled carts and such, and they eventually dig furrows in the ground. This is the same principle, only instead of furrows the wheels sit in the iron furrows. They’re a little noisy, but you can pull a heavy load quite easily. The dwarves use them for mining, or for transport when there’s no underground canal about.”

The Copper blinked for a moment as he tried to absorb what Nivom had said. Nivom was a clever drake, but didn’t make allowance for those not as bright as he.

“So the cart…floats on the rails. Like the dwarf boats on a river.”

“Yes, you’ll see.”

The thralls went to ropes attached to one end of the carts. SiDrakkon barked out an order, and Nivom distributed his drakes to the heads of the lines, putting their necks through harnesses made for draft animals.

Some of the drakes grumbled at doing beast work.

The Copper put Rhea on one of the flat carts with some of the other female thralls, who cooked or toasted a grainy paste on metal bracking rods for the males.

“Exercise won’t do any of you harm,” SiDrakkon said. “Toughen you up before you get to the Upper World.”

---