Page 117 of Dragon Outcast (Age of Fire 3)

When Nivom gave the signal that the sentries and outwatchers had been cleared, the Drakwatch went forward.

Then SiDrakkon swooped overhead, low enough to smell the bubbling fire bladders (the dragons chewed an irritating pepper called green fury to fill their bladders), his three duelists in line behind to lessen the chance of their being spotted.

The aerial dragons struck and struck hard, setting alight the nests of wooden spikes that warded off horsemen, then picking the flaming bundles up in their saa or knocking them around with their tails.

The men rallied to the circle of stone, firing their bows and setting their spears against a descent when the Drakwatch struck, all loosing their flame at a roar from Nivom. The Drakwatch swarmed over the unfinished ramparts, scale glittering in the firelight, and the Copper wished more than anything to be with them.

The Stonemen broke and fled for their lives, and the Firemaidens had much sport hunting down stragglers in the grass.

At last a Firemaiden called to the Copper and told him that SiDrakkon bade that he join in the feast and survey the night’s work.

One of the Drakwatch had been killed in the fighting. Apart from bloodless arrow wounds to the wing tissue, SiDrakkon and the duelists had not been scratched.

They devoured some of the beasts of burden killed in the action and made presents of the rest to King Onato of the Rains and Wind and other titles. Such heads as didn’t disappear down dragon or drake gullets were lined up on the unfinished ramparts as a warning to the Ghi.

“That’s how you do it, Rugaard. A fast, heavy blow. Smash ’em up, and they’ll break and scatter,” SiDrakkon said. “When these human and blighter tribesmen see this work, they’ll rally to the king’s banner again. Especially if the banner’s carried by a victorious dragon.”

“Four victorious dragons,” one of the bodyguards said with a belch, as he nosed up a silver-hilted knife from the dirt, broke off the blade, and swallowed it.

“Forget not the drakes!” a pair from Nivom’s first sissa chorused, where they rooted among the burned bodies for coin to eat.

“The Firemaidens took their share of honors,” a dazzling, golden-eyed drakka said as another licked the wounds about her sii and griff.

SiDrakkon stood and roared a victorious bellow that no doubt sent the rock-racks digging even deeper into the sand. “Now, Rugaard, now you may return to the Lavadome. Tell the mighty Tyr what has been accomplished in his name this night. But hurry back, for the feasting will be even greater when we strike their fortress from the depths of the very river they so arrogantly claim!”

No one but the departing Copper noticed NiThonius, who’d stayed back from the attack as well. He remained at the edge of the celebration, using his nose to help the Bant tribesmen gather spent arrows and dropped swords. He simply sighed quietly.

SiDrakkon roared after him: “Give your report to the Tyr, and tell my sister to keep her advice. Her snout’s in too many caves as it is.”

Chapter 16

The road back to the Lavadome was wearisome in several respects.

For a start, the king awarded them, through SiDrakkon, a rather broken-down and dismal donkey, who complained, in the simple words of the beast tongue, that he would be eaten as soon as the Copper grew hungry. For a while Rhea rode him, but he staggered and bellowed, so they left him with just carrying grain and dragon-smoked meat.

Rhea performed her scale-cleaning duties until her fingers bled from beneath her nails. She slept rather close to him. Fourfang, however, continually disappeared while they passed back south through Bant, especially when the Copper smelled tribal blighters around. He’d slip off quietly in the night, and come back smelling of scented oil.

“Where do you go nights, Fourfang?” the Copper asked one morning.

In response, the blighter made a motion of such obvious obscenity that the Copper almost scorched him from the waist down. The Copper wondered how many prominently toothed blighter litters would be born next season.

On their last day of travel the rains began. Blue-bottomed clouds boiled up out of the east and gathered, and water fell from the sky, first in a drizzle and then in such torrents it was pointless to seek shelter, so they simply squelched on through the mud to the next soggy camp.

The donkey complained that not only was he to be eaten, but he was going to be eaten wet and uncomfortable.

“The rains, at last,” the Firemaid guarding the underground entrance said. “You leave us so soon?” The rain had washed and brightened her scale.

“I’ll return with messages, I expect. I’ll offer you a gift of this donkey to remember me. I suggest you eat him; it’s the only way you’ll ever have any peace and quiet.”

The Firemaids kept a goodly supply of meat, gained hunting on the plains, and there was even a little fish pulled out of a stream that morning, for with the rain the fish were hurrying to mate and lay their eggs. The Copper ate the fish as soon as it was offered. If his time in the Lavadome lacked anything, it was a good piece of fish now and again.

The trek down the tunnel was long—fortunately there were few places one could get lost, and when in doubt the Copper simply smelled for the leavings of the flocks driven downtunnel. Once they met up with the dwarvish iron ruts it was simply a matter of following the lines down. Their trek had little to remember, save that Fourfang slept soundly each night with his head pillowed upon the Copper’s rump, and Rhea, lacking the warm sty provided by her fellow thralls, huddled against his leathery stomach. So they came again to the Lavadome with little doubt or danger. The deman boatman who carried them across was a gruesome specimen, and fondled Rhea’s sun-colored hair as they climbed in.

“Enough, you,” the Copper growled. The demen were useful enough in keeping order among the thralls, but he still found them loathsome. “Keep to your end of the boat.”

The deman and Fourfang exchanged looks. Fourfang licked his lips and showed his teeth.

The deman’s spines rose. “No brawling,” the Copper said, placing his tail between them.

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