might
have to walk home. But he let her approach him finally and, after most of his front
half was yellowish and shiny, permitted her to lead him back to the fire.
And he stood unmoving when she picked up a flaming branch and walked
toward him. And still stood when she held the branch low before him and let little
flames lick at his knees.
Kenet worked on horses too.
Chapter 10
SHE RODE HOME in a merry mood. The time and the soap (fortunately she had
thought to bring a great chunk of the harsh floor-scrubbing soap with her) it had
taken to get the yellow stuff out of her hair could not dampen her spirits, any
more than had the cold night, and she with only one thin blanket.
Even another dreadful court affair, with an endless diplomatic dinner after it,
could not completely quell her happiness, and when the third person in half an
hour asked her about her new perfume—there was a slightly herby, and a slightly
charred, smell that continued to cling to her—she couldn’t help but laugh out
loud. The lady, who had been trying to make conversation, smiled a stiff smile and
moved away, for she resented being laughed at by someone she was supposed to
pity and be kind to.
Aerin sighed, for she understood the stiff smile, and wondered if she were
going to smell of herbs and burning—and slightly of clean floors—forever.
There was an unnatural activity at her father’s court at present; Thorped had
been only the precursor of a swelling profusion of official visitors, each more
nervous than the last, and a few inclined to be belligerent. The increasing activity
on Damar’s northern Border worried everyone who knew enough, or cared to pay
attention; there was more traveling among the villages and towns and the king’s
City than there had been for as long as Aerin could remember, and the court
dinners, always tense with protocol, were now stretched to breaking point with
something like fear.
Aerin, after the morning her father had given her permission to take Talat out
alone, had begun to visit the king at his breakfast now and then, and always he
looked glad to see her. Sometimes Tor ate with the king as well, and if Arlbeth
noticed that Tor joined him at breakfast more often now that there was a chance
he would see Aerin as well, he said nothing. Tor was home most of the time now,
for Arlbeth had need of him near.
So it was the three of them lingering over third cups of malak one morning
when the first petitioner of the day came to speak to the king.
The petitioner reported a dragon, destroying crops and killing chickens. It had
also badly burned a child who had accidentally discovered its lair, although the
child had been rescued in time to save its life.
Arlbeth sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “Very well. We will send
someone to deal with it.”
The man bowed and left.
“There will be more of them now, with the trouble at the Border,” said Tor.
“That sort of vermin seems to breed faster when the North wind blows.”
“I fear you are right,” Arlbeth replied. “And we can ill spare anyone just now.”
“I’ll go,” said Tor.
“Don’t be a fool,” snapped the king, and then immediately said, “I’m sorry. I
can spare you least of all—as you know. Dragons don’t kill people very often any
more, but dragon-slayers rarely come back without a few uncomfortable burns.”
“Someday,” said Tor with a wry smile, “when we have nothing better to do, we
must think up a more efficient way to cope with dragons. It’s hard to take them
seriously—but they are a serious nuisance.”
Aerin sat very still.
“Yes.” Arlbeth frowned into his malak. “I’ll ask tomorrow for half a dozen
volunteers to go take care of this. And pray it’s an old slow one.”
Aerin also prayed it was an old slow one as she slipped off. She had only a day’s
grace, so she needed to leave at once; fortunately she had visited the village in
question once on a state
have to walk home. But he let her approach him finally and, after most of his front
half was yellowish and shiny, permitted her to lead him back to the fire.
And he stood unmoving when she picked up a flaming branch and walked
toward him. And still stood when she held the branch low before him and let little
flames lick at his knees.
Kenet worked on horses too.
Chapter 10
SHE RODE HOME in a merry mood. The time and the soap (fortunately she had
thought to bring a great chunk of the harsh floor-scrubbing soap with her) it had
taken to get the yellow stuff out of her hair could not dampen her spirits, any
more than had the cold night, and she with only one thin blanket.
Even another dreadful court affair, with an endless diplomatic dinner after it,
could not completely quell her happiness, and when the third person in half an
hour asked her about her new perfume—there was a slightly herby, and a slightly
charred, smell that continued to cling to her—she couldn’t help but laugh out
loud. The lady, who had been trying to make conversation, smiled a stiff smile and
moved away, for she resented being laughed at by someone she was supposed to
pity and be kind to.
Aerin sighed, for she understood the stiff smile, and wondered if she were
going to smell of herbs and burning—and slightly of clean floors—forever.
There was an unnatural activity at her father’s court at present; Thorped had
been only the precursor of a swelling profusion of official visitors, each more
nervous than the last, and a few inclined to be belligerent. The increasing activity
on Damar’s northern Border worried everyone who knew enough, or cared to pay
attention; there was more traveling among the villages and towns and the king’s
City than there had been for as long as Aerin could remember, and the court
dinners, always tense with protocol, were now stretched to breaking point with
something like fear.
Aerin, after the morning her father had given her permission to take Talat out
alone, had begun to visit the king at his breakfast now and then, and always he
looked glad to see her. Sometimes Tor ate with the king as well, and if Arlbeth
noticed that Tor joined him at breakfast more often now that there was a chance
he would see Aerin as well, he said nothing. Tor was home most of the time now,
for Arlbeth had need of him near.
So it was the three of them lingering over third cups of malak one morning
when the first petitioner of the day came to speak to the king.
The petitioner reported a dragon, destroying crops and killing chickens. It had
also badly burned a child who had accidentally discovered its lair, although the
child had been rescued in time to save its life.
Arlbeth sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “Very well. We will send
someone to deal with it.”
The man bowed and left.
“There will be more of them now, with the trouble at the Border,” said Tor.
“That sort of vermin seems to breed faster when the North wind blows.”
“I fear you are right,” Arlbeth replied. “And we can ill spare anyone just now.”
“I’ll go,” said Tor.
“Don’t be a fool,” snapped the king, and then immediately said, “I’m sorry. I
can spare you least of all—as you know. Dragons don’t kill people very often any
more, but dragon-slayers rarely come back without a few uncomfortable burns.”
“Someday,” said Tor with a wry smile, “when we have nothing better to do, we
must think up a more efficient way to cope with dragons. It’s hard to take them
seriously—but they are a serious nuisance.”
Aerin sat very still.
“Yes.” Arlbeth frowned into his malak. “I’ll ask tomorrow for half a dozen
volunteers to go take care of this. And pray it’s an old slow one.”
Aerin also prayed it was an old slow one as she slipped off. She had only a day’s
grace, so she needed to leave at once; fortunately she had visited the village in
question once on a state
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