Dragon Rule - E. E. Knight [102]
At one of their warmth-and-water breaks, RuGaard offered to take over the lead position to give AuRon a chance to rest.
“I’m not dragging scale,” AuRon said. “I don’t mind anything except that the rest of you are a little slow.”
They all chuckled at that. Perhaps the family had learned to laugh after all.
They flew high over the mountains surrounding the Sadda-Vale at the cost of exhaustion, but with the journey almost at an end.
Wistala thought Vesshall in the Sadda-Vale hadn’t changed in the intervening years any more than as if she’d just left the previous night. The stone latticework over the entrance, the great dome carved out of living rock, the steaming pools of the lake beneath giving wisps of heat up into the sky.
Perhaps the Sadda-Vale was a sister location to the Lavadome. Unchanging year in and year out.
Not such a bad place to live in exile. Hot and cold natural pools for swimming, the vast, deep lake, architecture unlike anything she’d seen in the wide world, and plenty of game. A troll hunt with three or more full-grown dragons would be an interesting challenge rather than a risky hunt. She’d have to remind her brothers about the trolls.
Though today it was mist-shrouded. Nevertheless a few blighters were employed sweeping leaves from the vast courtyard before the entrance.
They dropped their brooms and fled at the sight of the new arrivals.
DharSii was the first to amble out of the entrance with its ancient writing. He startled when he recognized them.
“We seek refuge,” AuRon said.
“And fish. And warms,” Miki said in his bad Drakine.
DharSii cleared his throat. “Ha-hem. Welcome, Wistala. It’s good to see you again. Greetings, AuRon. Tyr RuGaard, you fly with a small escort. Has there been trouble?”
Scabia the White shuffled out, dragging her tail, but the aged dragon still had bright and alert eyes. “We’ve met before, Wistala of the line of AuNor.”
“Yes, briefly.”
“A young dragon seeking help in her battles in the wide world,” Scabia sniffed.
DharSii looked uncomfortable.
“So, how did your contest in the world of hominids turn out? A smashing success, no doubt?”
“I am no judge of my own success.”
“Now you’ve returned.”
“As you see.”
“I can’t imagine what your party seeks that is in my power to grant.”
“We seek refuge with you from a hostile world. We are all exiles from the Grand Alliance.”
“DharSii, is this the confounded arrangement you were speaking of?”
“Yes, Scabia. The Lavadome dragons and the Hypatians are now allies.”
“It’ll end badly. Such arrangements always do. Well, I expect you’re hungry. I can see the ribs on that poor scaleless dragon with the regrown tail.”
“We’d be grateful for your hospitality,” Wistala said.
“You never struck me as the grateful type. But perhaps your experiences have taught you better manners than to go running off from your hosts in the dead of night. Well, it’s a cold day, and I don’t care for the Upper World.”
She led them all down into the great hall Wistala remembered, with its many lofts projecting from the side and pools of rainwater on the floor. It still smelled musty, like secrets hardly worth keeping.
As the others ate, Scabia settled down beside Wistala.
“It’s good to have another dragonelle around,” the aged white said.
“We may stay some time, if you’ll let us. We all could use a rest.”
“The Sadda-Vale can support many more dragons than it does. It has in the past, in any case. You can win a place for yourself and your companions permanently, as uzhin.”
“You still need eggs for your daughter?” Wistala asked. Scabia’s charity always came with a price, and she’d asked, years ago, that Wistala mate with NaStirath so that her barren daughter Aethleethia would have hatchlings to care for.
“Yes. I’d still like you to produce them. The superiority of your characteristics, your size and strength, suggest that you would lay fit, healthy hatchlings. Why, you might have eight or more eggs