The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [196]
“A splendid idea,” Galla said. “And Branna my dear one, you really shouldn’t go consorting with dragons. This one may act tame, but you never know with wild animals, when they’ll turn on you.”
That’s exactly the talking-to I knew I’d get, Branna thought to herself. Aloud, she said, “You’re doubtless right, Aunt Galla. My apologies.”
As she was leaving the women’s hall, it occurred to her to wonder just how she could have been so calm around Arzosah. And why had she known the dragon’s name? For a moment she felt dizzy, and rather than slip and fall, she paused halfway down the stairs to the great hall until her head cleared. I wish Dalla and Salamander were here, she thought. But most of all, she wished she could run to Neb and feel his arms around her, a solid comfort in a world that had turned alien and grim.
Arzosah returned to the army late on the following day with the message pouch around her neck and another white cow from the temple of Bel clutched in her claws. Dallandra was explaining the properties of her healing herbs to Neb when they saw the dragon flapping slowly along, weighed down by her dead prey as she headed for a nearby field.
“I can tell you more about comfrey root later,” Dallandra said. “Let’s go fetch those messages.”
Salamander joined them as they made their way through the crowded Westfolk camp and left it for the meadows beyond. Arzosah had found a nesting place a safe distance away from the army’s horses. A clump of big granite boulders rose from uneven ground like the knuckles of a fist pushing through a leather glove. Water trickled from a spring in their midst to a flat and sunny pasture where the dragon could warm herself. When Dallandra and the two men arrived, Arzosah was lounging on the grass and considering a pit beside the cool water of the stream. The dirt crusting her claws made it clear that she’d dug it herself. Apparently, the dead cow lay in the pit on its back because all Dallandra could see was its legs, pitifully akimbo.
“I prefer to eat at night,” Arzosah remarked, “and the stream will keep it fresh. It’s quite hot up in the rocks.”
“A good idea, truly,” Salamander said. “Uh, what’s that smell? Do you have another cow decaying somewhere?”
“I don’t. I’ve been licking the hides clean and saving them for our scribe here. They won’t make the best parchment, but I’ll wager you can write on them once they’re tanned or treated or whatever your people do to them.”
“I certainly can,” Neb said. “My humble thanks! I truly do appreciate it.”
“We’ll bring a servant down to fetch them later,” Salamander put in. “I’m surprised you know about such things, O, pinnacle of dragonhood.”
“I’ve seen books and the like before,” Arzosah said. “I am not some sort of savage.” She swung her head around to speak to Dallandra. “I assume you’ve come for the messages. Or the answers to them, I should say.”
“We have indeed,” Dallandra said. “Ebañy, if you’ll just unbuckle that strap?”
Arzosah lifted her chin to allow Salamander to relieve her of the message pouch.
“By the by, young Neb,” Arzosah said, “I met your betrothed, and I was quite impressed.”
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Neb broke into a grin.
Arzosah rumbled with laughter. “Beautiful? Why would I care about that? She’s fearless, is what I meant. There’s a letter from her for you in that pouch.”
Neb turned to Salamander and made a move toward the pouch that was more like a snake striking than a gesture of “give it to me.” Salamander laughed and tossed him the leather sack.
“Find yours,” Salamander said, “and then take the rest to the gwerbret.”
“I will,” Neb said. “My apologies for grabbing.”
With the pouch cradled in his arms, Neb trotted back to the camp. Arzosah watched him go, then turned to Dallandra.
“Now that he’s out of earshot,” Arzosah said in Elvish, “I have a bone to pick with you, Dalla, and it’s not inside that cow. It’s mean of you to go around telling everyone my true name.”
“What?” Dalla said. “I did no such thing!”
“Then how did Branna learn it?”
“She knew it?” Dallandra paused,