The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [192]
“I’ll be back tomorrow morning for the answers,” Arzosah said. “Now listen carefully, because this is truly important. One of the letters is sealed with Prince Voran’s wyvern. Lord Oth is to read that one first and silently. It will explain why.”
“Well and good, then. I’ll tell him.”
“Good. Now, I’m off to hunt my supper. You’d best go back inside, though, before I leave. My wings tend to whip up a powerful gust of air.”
“No doubt. May you have good fortune on the hunt!”
“What a polite child you are! I do like that in a hatch-ling.”
For want of an answer, Branna curtsied, then wrapped the strap and pouch around her waist several times to leave her hands free for the climb down the ladder. Lord Oth and two men from the fort guard were waiting for her on the landing below. The men bowed to her in honest awe.
“Ye gods!” Oth murmured. “You’ve got ice in your veins, Lady Branna.”
“I don’t know what came over me,” Branna said. “But she does seem courtly in her own way.”
From above, wingbeats sounded, as huge as thunder. In a rush of air the dragon flew off, and as her shadow passed over the open trap, darkness fell for a moment. Oth wiped cold sweat off his face with his shirt sleeve, and one of the guards turned more than a little pale.
“Here are the messages, my lord.” Branna unbuckled the strap and held them out.
Oth took them with shaking hands. As they went downstairs, the two guards preceded them, allowing Branna to repeat Arzosah’s instructions concerning the letter with the wyvern seal in privacy.
“Very well.” Oth seemed surprised. “Let’s stop here on this landing.”
Oth looked through the messages, found the correct silver tube, and broke the seal. He shook out the parchment within, and as he read, his surprise turned into a certain grim look about the eyes. “I see.” Oth rolled up the message and shoved it back into the tube. “Let’s go on down.”
The great hall was mobbed. Everyone crowded inside to hear the news, servants, pages, fort guards, and noble-born ladies alike. Branna made her way through the whispering crowd to the table of honor, where the noble-born had gathered, and sat down next to her aunt, who turned to her, tried to speak, then gave it up with a shrug. I’ll be in for a talking-to later, Branna thought, on the subject of not consorting with dragons. The thought made her giggle until Galla silenced her with a black look.
Lord Oth had paused a few steps up the main staircase and was still surveying the crowd. “Is Varn here?” he called out.
Varn, the captain of the fort guard, made his way through the murmuring crowd. When he started to kneel, Oth stopped him. “Come have a private word with me,” Oth said.
Oth and the captain climbed halfway up the stone staircase to speak quietly between themselves while everyone in the hall watched and murmured speculations and rumors. Finally the captain hurried down again. He began rounding up some of his men and posting them here and there about the great hall. Oth followed more slowly.
“No doubt your hearts are all longing for news,” Oth called out. “I shall therefore read the messages out loud.”
He climbed onto a table and made a great show of opening the tubes and taking out the letters, then read them as loudly as he could. Although Branna wanted to hear the details as much as anyone, she realized that she was watching the crowd as carefully as she was listening. At first, she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for, but when Lord Oth reached the portion of the message that dealt with the dragons, she got her answer.
“As you must realize by now, since you are reading this message, the black dragon has been of great and estimable service