Days of Blood and Fire - Katharine Kerr [199]
When he tried to explain this to Enj, the young dwarf merely rolled his eyes and went on clinging for dear life to rope and crest alike. In the rush of wind and the thwack of the dragon’s wings against air, it was impossible to hold any sort of conversation, anyway. At the most Rhodry could bellow orders to the dragon or yell back a few words to Enj during those intervals when she glided rather than beat the air. For both their sakes he ordered her to fly low. Seeing the ground rush by fast scared them less than seeing it unroll slowly from some great height. He supposed that she must be bitterly amused at their clumsiness and weak stomachs, these pitiful creatures who had nonetheless tracked her down.
By late light they left the fire mountain and the Gods’ Soup Bowl far behind. With each beat of her wings or long glide Arzosah covered as much ground as they could have by running till they were winded. She also soared over those petty obstacles, valleys and crests, rivers and broken ground, that had claimed hours of Rhodry’s and Enj’s effort and sweat. After only an afternoon’s travel, they’d gone long past the outcrop that may or may not have been shaped like a hound’s head. When they camped that first night, Arzosah found them a shallow valley with a stream and set down gently. As soon as they slid off, Enj took a few steps, knelt, and kissed the ground, making Arzosah roll a scornful eye.
“Master?” she said. “May I hunt?”
“You may, as long as you make a fast kill and bring it back here.”
“Will you take these wretched ropes off?”
He could, he supposed, with little effort, but always he was aware of the danger they rode by riding a dragon, this creature of air and darkness, so reluctantly tamed.
“No. You need to get used to them.”
She snarled and thrashed her head, but when he held up the ring, she quieted immediately. Whatever dweomer Evandar had put upon that ring, Rhodry realized, it must have radiated true power to those sensitive to such things.
“Go hunt,” Rhodry said. “But return with your supper.”
With a rustle of wing she flapped and flew, circling off to the north. Enj shook himself all over like a wet dog.
“Ye gods, Rori! Never did I think I would see a dragon and finish my father’s dream for him, much less ride upon one’s back.” Enj grinned broadly. “I think me, though, that Da would have had a better stomach for it than his son.”
“Well, you know what they always say. Be careful what you wish for.”
“Or you may get it. Truly.”
It was just growing dark when Arzosah returned, carrying a dead doe in her front claws as easily as a falcon carries a dove. She flew low, dropped it, then circled to settle next to it.
“Do you wish some of this venison, Rhodry Dragon-master?”
“We have our own kill, my thanks. Enjoy yours, my lady.”
“Ah, I do like a courtly man.”
Although Rhodry and Enj both had been rather dreading watching her eat, she was a courtly feeder herself, ripping off small pieces of flesh with a delicate fang and turning her head away when she needed to gulp. The bones she cracked, laying one paw upon them and pressing till they snapped, then sucking the marrow with the corner of her mouth. Once done, she buried the hide and other remains with a few scrapes of a paw, then went to the stream and bathed her head and chest.
“Right you were to order me back with that,” she remarked. “I’m so sleepy now. A good night to you both.”
Without further ado she curled