Dragon Ultimate (5 page)

"Do you think it'd be cheaper to have the wyvern rip down this house of yours?" said Endi.

Felp saw the logic of that. He did own the building :

Swane and Manuel chose that moment to show themselves, slipping in quietly around the dragon.

"More of you, what, did you bring the whole squadron down here to intimidate poor old Felp Bunyard?"

"Just place your wager. We throw for six, double threes. Five pieces of gold. Rule of three for the double. You pay fifteen for the double threes."

It was the standard rate for betting a double in such games as this. Felp looked around him for a way out, but there was none.

"Come on, Felp. Throw down the money," said Curf.

Unhappily, Felp tossed down the bag of coins just given him by Curf.

Endi threw and up came double three again.

"Six. Isn't that amazing?"

They took up the gold.

"That seems to settle everything. We're quits, I think." Endi looked into Felp's face. "And we're going to take these dice with us. You better not run this kind of rigging anymore or we'll be back."

"We'll tell the Purple Green. He'll probably want you for supper."

The Broketail dragon snorted in mirth.

From high atop the Tower of Guard, Captain Hollein Kesepton observed the jubilant party returning up Tower Street to the dragonhouse.

He'd suspected that the sudden request for thirty pieces of gold, drawn on Bazil Broketail's account at the Marneri Merchants' Bank, might have to do with gambling down in the lower part of town. The Sergeant of the Guard worked hard to keep gambling under control in the barracks and the tower, but his writ did not run in the rest of the city.

Then word came that the Broketail dragon had left the dragonhouse and gone into the city. This in itself was unusual, though not outlawed by any means. Hollein had finished his dinner and then gone up to the top of the Tower to keep watch. He suspected that any such business involving a dragon would not last that long.

Now as they passed through the gate into the yard beneath the tower, he saw the jaunty strut on the boys and heard their cheerful whoops of victory. Hollein turned away with a smile. He had an idea that this problem had just been solved. Just as long as they hadn't hurt anyone too badly.

He turned back to gaze across the city. Amber lights shone from ten thousand windows. White walls gleamed faintly under the moon. The dark water of the sound lay in the distance, framing Marneri in its embrace. Hollein thought that the city had never looked better. Marneri had come through some hard years lately. Wars and military expeditions had cost the city a great deal in casualties and treasure. The short civil war with Aubinas had cost them, too, in the loss of that complete sense of unity that had always held the city-state together in the past.

But now there was peace. Axoxo had fallen. Padmasa was beaten and on the defensive. Marneri hummed with the expanded commerce to Kenor. Her merchants kept a growing fleet in motion, and the world had brought its rewards and passions to the white city on the Long Sound.

Hollein smiled, recalling his wife informing him that the fire worshipers of Xod had petitioned to build a small temple to the holy fire. Lagdalen said this would be the twenty-fourth temple to an outland divinity to open in Marneri. They were fast becoming a community of all the world's religions. Lagdalen found this idea just a little shocking. Her city was changing, and she felt a little threatened by the changes. Hollein thought it was more amusing than that.

Stretched along the northern wall of the city, close to the tower, shone the green lights favored in the Elf Quarter. From their skilled metalwork had come a great commerce. The making of elf blades, axes, equipment, as well as ornaments had led to other industries spawning employment for skilled and semiskilled workers. The city was bustling these days, due in large part to the decision a century before to encourage the wood elves of Mount Red Oak to ally themselves with the Argonath. No other city had so completely allied themselves with the elven folk.

Hollein sighed, looking south. For all the good news, challenges remained. The Argonath was increasingly dominated by the power of Kadein, the great city of the south. Four times as populous as Marneri, Kadein had spread widely outside its old walls. Marneri still stood within the walls of stone that had protected it during the dark years of Dugguth and the war with Mach Ingbok, the demon lord.

But now Marneri strained at that restriction. The nearby towns and villages had all grown together into one big suburban ring, the same process that Kadein had undergone a century before. Within the walls there was a considerable sense of equality, even though the fine houses on Foluran Hill were far more substantial than those down on East Harbor. All shared the same security, the walls around them and the spirit of martial Marneri. To keep the same spirit alive in a city that sprawled like Kadein would be very hard.

And Hollein knew that it was in spirit and determined dedication to the great cause of the Argonath that Marneri's true leadership of the Argonath lay. Marneri would never challenge Kadein for primacy in terms of population, no matter how it grew.

Hollein shrugged, clutched himself against the cool of the night, and turned down the stairs into the great tower's interior. The city was changing and nothing would stay the same and there wasn't much he could do about that. He kept going down until he reached the floor of the Tarcho apartments. He entered, nodding to Habu the servant and went down the hall to his wife's rooms.

He found her sitting up in bed sewing by candlelight. His dress shirt had come back from the laundry with a parted seam, and he had to wear it the next day. Dignitaries from the Czardhan Kingdom of Hentilden were coming, and a formal parade of welcome was scheduled in their honor.

"Is all well?" she said.

"They were whooping their heads off when they went into the dragonhouse."

Hollein took off his jacket and sat down to pull off his boots.

"I'm still worried, Hollein."

"For Relkin?"

"Yes. This interest that is set against him has grown powerful of late. This trial stems from the same malice as before. Commander Heiss of the First Regiment, First Legion, filed the original charge, and he refuses to withdraw it."

"Mmm." He knew there were still Aubinan sympathizers throughout the Legions, but he was a little surprised that they would be so open about it so soon after the crushing defeat the rebellion had suffered.

"There are those who favored the Aubinan rebels, and they've allied themselves with the antidragon group in the high command. You know the men I mean. General Sving, Admiral Ledemor, they're mostly cavalry and naval types."

"Oh yes, they're well known for their views. And there are also those who think that a certain dragonboy has gotten above himself, and been the recipient of too many honors."

"Such jealousies demean their owners." Lagdalen heaved a sigh at the pettiness and meanness brought on by the Aubinan rebellion and its aftermath. "Relkin has given plenty of blood for the Argonath, but on this question of the gold he's vulnerable."

"He never tried to hide it. He registered it on his arrival in the city."

"It was still plunder. We have no word from Mirchaz."

"But we have heard from Og Bogon."

"Indeed, a glowing commendation from the great King Choulaput himself. He vouches for Relkin and Bazil in no uncertain terms."

"That covers most of the gold, anyway."

"It's the Mirchaz gold that is the problem."

Hollein took up a pot of ale brought in by Habu.

Lagdalen finished the seam on his shirt and started to put away her needle and thread. There was something else bothering her; Hollein could see it. When she looked up at him, the question was in his eyes.

"And then I think that none of it matters," she said. "Because the witches will take him away no matter what the verdict. He will never be allowed a normal life."

Hollein frowned. "You're sure of this?"

"What else would you expect? They must find out what he knows. How he has done the things he has."

"Relkin would live at Andiquant?"

"I expect so. Under constant supervision and inspection."

"He would hate that."

"He won't get a choice, really."

Down in the alleys, behind Fish Hill, in the older parts of town, the rats were sick. They became listless. Their eyes dimmed. Sores opened on their bodies and soon after they died. As their bodies grew cold, their fleas abandoned them and sought warmer ones.

Just after dawn, the brig
Lily
entered Marneri harbor under lowering skies with a stiff, pitching sea. Inside the breakwater the water was calmer, but the winds were still sharp and awkward. Other ships were riding at anchor in the outer harbor, offering the chance of collisions galore. But the
Lily
crew were old hands at this. They reefed the sails in no time and she passed serenely behind the enormous bulk of the white ship
Oat
and on into the inner harbor to tie up at the Watergate Wharf.

Relkin stepped ashore into the familiar bustle of Marneri. The alehouses on Fish Street were going full blast, and the flower sellers at the corner with Tower Street were singing of their wares. He shouldered his pack and set off through the throngs, overjoyed at being back in the city that felt closest to home. Up Tower Street he went, past markets jammed with customers, through Foluran Hill with its fine buildings and on to the parade ground before the tower gates.

He was recognized by the guards and greeted with an extremely sharp salute. He might have his troubles with the law, but Dragoneer Relkin of the 109th Marneri was still a respected figure in the Legion.

Relkin returned the salutes as well as he might, but he had a grin on his face. It wasn't often that a dragonboy got this kind of treatment.

Inside the dragonhouse a crowd of boys soon developed around him, but there was only one big face he wanted to see.

Then Bazil emerged from the stall with a happy roar and almost crushed the life out of him against the huge wyvern chest.

When he'd gotten his breath back, Relkin demanded to be set down again.

"Good to have boy back."

"Good to be here."

Bazil hugged him again, despite his protests.

"I missed damned boy! It has been a long time."

"Seemed very long, old friend. I've been wishing I was back here ever since I left."

Relkin's practiced eye took in a few developments that made him frown. Bazil's hide didn't look as if it had been rubbed down in a while… The claws were trimmed, but not very well, there was a scrape on the upper right thigh that hadn't been treated at all!

"How did that happen?" he said at once, pointing to it.

"Same old boy!" Bazil sounded very happy. "That happen in training. It healing now."

Curf stumbled into the cell a few moments later.

"Welcome back, Relkin."

"Curf!" They gripped hands.

Relkin's practiced eye took in the sloppiness in the cell. The joboquin was hanging on the wrong hook. The bunk bed was badly made. Relkin could see that the joboquin needed a lot of work. He winced at some of the damage he could see.

"So, how's it been here? Any major catastrophes, wars, battles that I don't know about?"

Curf and Bazil exchanged a glance.

"No, it's been real quiet," said Curf.

"How's Cuzo been treating you?"

"Oh, he was rough at times. You know I don't do too well at getting places on time."

"Yeah."

"But lately it hasn't been so bad."

Relkin glanced at the wyvern and saw a glimmer of amusement in the dragon's eye. Curf was probably stretching the truth a little here. Ah, well, Relkin had expected things to be even worse. But that joboquin really distressed him. At least the dragon didn't have any major wounds or infections.

"Well, I'm back. It's been a long time away, much too long, but I'm so glad to be back here. By the gods, it's good."

Curf frowned slightly. Although he wasn't much of a dragonboy, Curf was a good worshiper of the Mother Goddess, like most young people, and Relkin's calls to the Old Gods were upsetting to true believers. Relkin didn't notice and wouldn't have cared. He'd learned way back that the gods, all of them, were capricious, at least where he was concerned.