Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [154]
Through the trees he could see someone running, crashing his way through the underbrush. Not so far behind him came the cat-beasts, though all he could see of them was the occasional flash of spotted hide. Evandar flew a little higher and hovered on the wind to look down. The figure burst out of the trees—Shaetano, all right, screaming as he raced for the safety of the boundary. Or was it Shaetano? It seemed to be his usual form of a fox-spirit, but on his head grew a mane of honey-blonde hair. Evandar banked a wing and turned to fly after him just as he leapt up and mutated into bird form. Hair and fox-spirit both vanished in a flutter of black-and-white feathers: a shrike.
Shaetano was panicked enough that Evandar might have been able to dive and catch him from his superior height, but his curiosity had been aroused. Just what was his wretched brother up to now? When Shaetano flew off, heading for a mother road, Evandar trailed behind at a safe distance, just to see where he would lead.
“There goes Arzosah,” Rhodry said, “off to hunt, no doubt.”
Dallandra looked up in the sky where he pointed and saw the dragon, a tiny figure against the sky, heading straight west.
“It's a good thing she can fetch her own food,” Dallandra said. “Keeping her in meat isn't a job I'd want.”
“Nor I, either. I blasted well wish she'd lay off the local cattle, though.”
They were walking together at the edge of the lake. The sun was beginning to sink toward the western horizon, gilding a long streak of mackerel clouds that arched over the town.
“Looks like rain coming,” Rhodry remarked.
“It does. I suppose the townsfolk will come to the Deciding no matter what the weather.”
“No doubt. When I was walking through the town, I could hear the people talk about naught else. I hope to the gods that they see the Horsekin alliance for what it is: bait for a trap.”
“I think me most of them do.” Dallandra paused to look across to Citadel, looming dark against the sky. “They didn't escape your ancestors just to sell themselves into slavery again. Though I wonder, truly, where the Horsekin and the Gel da'Thae both get those human slaves of theirs. I've not wanted to ask Zatcheka right out.”
“It might well blight a flowering friendship.”
They continued on, walking so close together that their shoulders touched. Rhodry twined his arm through hers.
“Will you miss me?” he said abruptly. “When I leave for the Northlands?”
“I will. And you?”
“I'll think of you often.” He was staring down at the ground. “And curse myself for a fool a thousand times over for leaving you behind for naught but a daft hope.”
“Oh here, you'd not stay long anyway, even if you did come back to the grass with me. Somewhat else would catch your fancy, and you'd be off. You're that sort of man.”
“Well, I was a man like that once.”
“Not anymore?”
“I hardly know who I am anymore. I've lived too long, Dalla.”
“Oh hush!” She pulled free of him. “Don't! Just don't go on about Lady Death and all the rest of it!”
“Very well.” He was smiling at her, but a smile that hovered near tears.
“You're daft, Rori, but truly, in my own way I love you.”
“My thanks.” His smile changed, to something nearer humor. “Your own way, indeed! You're a fine one, talking about me being fickle and going off somewhere. I've never known a woman more distant than you.”
“Well, true spoken. I suppose this is why we've been able to put up with each other as long as we have.”
He laughed and caught her hand again. They walked on a few more yards, then realized that the open lakeshore by the commons was about to come to an end: ahead lay houses, built on pilings out over the water. When they turned back to return to camp, they saw Jahdo, running across the commons toward them. He was waving frantically.
“Slow down!” Rhodry yelled at him. “Or you'll fall flat on your face.”
Jahdo did as he was told. He stood panting to catch his breath and waited for them to reach him.