Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [84]
Still attached to the cliff at the end of the horseshoe stood the gatehouse in question. This second tower sported two smaller round structures, in shape much like brochs, down at its base—the old guard rooms, crammed with stored weapons, single-bitted axes, spearheads on old and splitting wooden shafts, knives of various shapes, all too old to use but too good to throw away. If Rhodry took up residence in the empty chamber above so much iron, Alshandra would never be able to reach him.
“You get a good look round from up there,” Rhodry said. “I wouldn’t mind moving in.”
“Good. Still, I feel we owe you somewhat, for the bringing of the news, if naught else.”
“I’d never demand a price.”
“I know it, you know it, but does the Council need to know it?”
They shared a grin.
“Well, then,” Rhodry said, “could you get me a proper harness for my new mount? She keeps complaining about the ropes I’ve rigged up. They’re not fine enough for a lady like her.”
They both laughed.
“No doubt we could,” Garin said. “Our craftsmen have never made a dragon harness before, but I suspect _they could rig one up. Can’t be much different than for horses, not in principle, anyway. You go down to the grass and wait for our demanding wyrm, and I’ll just go see what the guildsmen have to say about this.”
Arzosah returned with two dead deer, not her usual one, and by the time she’d finished gorging herself on raw venison, she was so drowsy that she made no objection to being fitted. The master armorer, the master tanner, and their two apprentices clambered round with ropes, making knots at crucial points to mark her measure and talking all the while in Dwarvish. Occasionally, Garin would translate a question—did Arzosah want brown leather or black? would she like bronze buckles or steel?
“I must say,” the dragon remarked at last, “that this pleases me mightily. If I must wear a harness like some smelly mule, at least I’ll have a decent one.”
“I only wish I were a rich lord, to give my lady jewels and gold,” Rhodry said, grinning. “But I doubt if you’ll ever find better workmanship than we’ll get here at Lin Serr, even if the harness is a plain one.”
“You know, Rori,” Garin put in, “I think we could muster a decoration or two, at that. Before he left for Haen Marn, Otho made his will, and as I remember, he left some gems to you.”
“What? I thought he hated me.”
“I asked him about that. He did, he said, but on the other hand, he’d hated you for so long it was like you were blood kin.” Garin’s voice wavered. “Just like the old man, eh?”
Rhodry was caught twixt tears and laughter for a moment; then any urge toward mirth vanished.
“I just had an evil thought. What of Otho’s mother?”
“Ah. She died a few days after you left here for Haen Marn. She’ll never have to know how her son met his death.”
“Good.”
For a little while, they stood looking out over the grassy park land and the river, bright in the sun. Rhodry sighed and waved a hand at the bustling craftsmen.
“How long do you think making the thing will take?”
“A couple of days, they say.”
“Huh. Well, if Arzosah will condescend to wear the ropes one more time, tomorrow we might fly down and take a look at this siege. I wonder if Cadmar’s allies are assembling somewhere near the city?”
“It’d be a good thing to know, sure enough, but I wouldn’t go down there alone.”
“Why not? If we fly high above the encampment, they won’t be able to touch us.”
“Truly?” Garin raised a bushy eyebrow. “Now, if this was some ordinary fight, like, I’d agree. But there’s dweomer involved, shape-changers, and that Alshandra creature. I’ve seen what she can do. How do we know they can’t work