The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [207]
“Dalla?” he said softly. “Are you awake?”
He could hear blankets rustling; then Dallandra pulled back the flap and ducked out.
“I was just about to come out,” she said softly. “Cal’s still asleep, though. What is it?”
“Rori’s on his way.”
“A thousand thanks to the Star Goddesses! Here, wait for me. I’m going to wake Cal up and tell him.”
Uphill, the human army was waking as well; Salamander could see servants trying to start fires with damp wood, and men standing around yawning or talking in small groups. Something touched his mind, a feeling too weak to be an omen, but too strong for a mere guess. He looked up, studying the cloudy sky. Sure enough, off to the south he could see some creature flying, a very large creature, coming fast with a flash of silver wings.
“Dalla!” Salamander called out. “He’s here!”
Dallandra shoved back the tent flap and hurried out to watch with him. Salamander was expecting Rori to land down in Arzosah’s pasture. Even though they stood a good quarter mile from her, everyone in camp could still hear her distant roar of greeting. As Salamander turned toward the sound, he saw the black dragon leap into the air and join Rori. Wingtip to wingtip, they flew off to the east, then spiraled down to land out of sight behind a distant copse.
“They must want a private word,” Dallandra said. “Before they join us, I mean.”
“Most likely,” Salamander said.
But in only a little space of time Arzosah returned alone. She flew low over the Westfolk camp and shouted to Dallandra as she passed by, “Meet me in my lair.”
“Oh, ye gods!” Salamander said. “I hope he’s willing to join the battle.”
“And when did Rhodry ever spurn a fight?”
“True spoken.” Salamander’s spirits rose again. “Let us go hear what her ladyship has to tell us.”
Calonderiel came with them as they ran down to join Arzosah. She glanced his way, curled her upper lip in scorn, and spoke only to Dallandra.
“He’s looking forward to joining the battle,” Arzosah said. “And he thinks my plan a good one. He suggests that you tell that banadar person to go call a council of war, so all the men who are going to attack the dun will know what we plan to do about those arrows.”
Calonderiel growled quite audibly. Arzosah pretended not to notice.
“Why won’t he come talk to us?” Dallandra said.
“He feels too shamed,” Arzosah said. “He was an honor-bound man before Evandar worked his dweomer, wasn’t he? And a dragon after, and our pride matches that of the honor-bound, so there we are.”
“I still don’t understand. Shamed?” Salamander asked. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” Arzosah lifted her furled wings slightly in her equivalent of a shrug. “I see nothing shameful about being a dragon, and so I don’t see why he should.”
“Well, you were hatched a dragon,” Dallandra said, “but he wasn’t. I’d like to think that he wishes he’d listened to me, but somehow that doesn’t seem like Rhodry.”
“As stubborn as a lord should be,” Arzosah said. “Isn’t that the Deverry ideal for their wretched nobles? Stubborn in all things, harsh to their equals, but generous to those below them, and then nasty and vicious, or some such thing.”
“Some such thing, yes.” Dallandra turned to Calonderiel. “Well, banadar person, I think that calling a council of war seems like a good idea. Do you?”
“Very much so.” Calonderiel shot the dragon a dark glance. “Even fools speak the truth now and then.”
Arzosah opened her mouth to reply, but Dallandra shouted and stepped in between them. “Enough! Both of you! We’d better get back to the camp.”
“That’s true,” Calonderiel said. “It’s going to take all day for the princes and the gwerbret to hammer out a plan of attack. We’d better get started.”
Until they were well away from the smell of dragon and dead cow both, Salamander followed Dallandra and Calonderiel, then let them go on ahead. When he used the wind-torn clouds to scry, he saw Lord