Page 107 of Dragon Strike (Age of Fire 4)

“Is there coin in bearing your messages?”

“Yes. We wish to show you some of our chief titleors. If you could be obliged to accompany us to conference.

“You picked a fortunate time to arrive. Some of my northerly allies have come south to spend the season with me and miss the worst of the ice and snow, and Ghioz is soon celebrating the sun’s death and rebirth, a most worthy of occasions, we think.”

He followed her into some rougher tunnels. He smelled animal coops, cooking, spices, and ranker odors.

She led him down a passage that sloped rather precipitously, but the floor-stones were set in such a way that claws, or feet, had sound purchase. Out through a wide arcing set of doors, AuRon realized they’d come straight through the mountain and now stood beneath the great face with all the scaffolding. He had to duck his head to pass under some of it.

The trees and stones here had been arranged, and assisted by waxed canvas, in such a way that he could hardly tell whether he was inside or out. The pocket of mountain and the vast chunks of what had once been the dwarf’s beard gave the appearance of walls, the great boles pillars, and the interlaced trees above a roof. Yet there were pools and streams, flower beds and fern-patches, and even sweet-smelling fruit trees scattered about the vast arena. Someone had cut the fallen rocks to provide rude seats and stairs to have access.

He suspected the area could have held many hundreds or a thousand, but at the moment there were some score, in little groups of threes and fives.

“Thank you for holding your business until a new day. We appreciate your patience,” the Red Queen announced in Parl.

AuRon surveyed the faces. Mostly human, though he saw a few elves, their tresses resembling dried seaweed, fall leaves, and in one case a cascade of pumpkin seeds. Dwarves, also with faces veiled and beards alight with glowing moss reflecting gold dust and gemstones—very rich dwarves, it seemed. Five blighters squatted together on a single stone, devouring a basket of apples as they waited.

The largest contingent seemed to be men with dark hair and thin mustaches and beards carefully trimmed and shaped and beaded. AuRon recognized their garb. They were Ironriders of various tribes. He remembered them as being described as very dangerous to those unfortunate enough to live within raiding distance during those rare intervals when they weren’t warring with each other over pasturage and nomadic pathways.

One of the dwarves, particularly rotund, leaned on a thick, gnarled stick. Something about the pose tugged at old memories. What was the name of that thieving dwarf who’d tried to blame him? Sekyw.

Interesting that he’d found his way into the Red Queen’s court.

“Stay near the entrance for the moment, AuRon. There are ceremonies and pleasantries we must endure. Such rituals have their purpose, but they weary after a twelvescore or two.”

AuRon watched her mount a low platform and stand. Each of those at the conference lined up to greet and speak to her. Part of their tradition involved dipping hands in a cistern of water and drying them on a white cloth before meeting at the hands. With little to do but observe, he noticed that some she gripped by both hands, some only one, sometimes they crossed arms so right hand met right hand and left hand met left.

The Ironriders simply touched their foreheads to the hem of her dress.

Then they spoke. The Red Queen seemed conversant in many tongues. She rarely spoke at any length. When quarrels broke out she silenced them immediately.

Servants, human and blighter, brought food and drink around.

Finally she waved him over.

“This is AuRon, a prince of dragons out of the north,” she said. “We think he may serve as a suitable emissary to the dragons of the Lavadome.”

“I knew this dragon when he was but a wingless drake, I believe, my queen,” Sekyw said. “We crossed the plains together in the traveling towers. I know him to be trustworthy.” Sekyw shot a guilty glance at AuRon. “He did the dwarves great service in battle. He is loyal to his friends, very loyal.”

“Ghioz looks everywhere for friendship,” the Red Queen said.

The Ironriders said something in a tongue AuRon did not know, but he recognized the Parl word for dragons.

“Yes, yes, everyone must have dragons to accomplish their goal. That is the difficulty. There are so few, at least who will act with intelligence. Remember the stupidity of the ones used to human direction, how easily they died when left to their own devices in conquering the Chushmereamae Archipelago. I have sent you roc-riders for scouting, and that will have to do.

“So, what will it be, AuRon? I offer you a title, if you will take it. You’ll find the duties light and our friendship worth thrice the pittance we ask in return.”

“It is a poor island, Great Queen. It offers little except fish and seal-meat.”

“But it does have dragons. Dragons, being intelligent, powerful, and winged, are the most useful of allies.”

“Join? I cannot make up my mind about so important a decision without consulting others. My hatchlings, however, need coin, and need it soon if they are to grow up strong.”

“Then you will find us a generous commissioner. We need a messenger to go to your kind in the Lavadome and offer them friendship. Through blunder and misunderstanding, we have fought at the Sloai horsedowns and in Bant. We were considering sending another as emissary, but his past in the Lavadome might carry along prejudice against our intent. You, as a fresh face, could be fairly heard.”

“What would your message be, Great Queen?”

“The friendliest of messages. Only that there be a dialogue between worlds, upper and lower, so that we might settle disputes without bloodshed.”

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