Naf’s forehead bore a fringe of white—a sign of aging in a human. What had been gray before was now white, making the remaining darker hair toward the back look all deeper in color, as though it were steadying itself for the final desperate battle from the white encroachment at the temples and forelock. Hieba’s eyes had lost much of their sparkle. They’d seemed to have fallen back into dark sockets, but were steady and alert and the teeth she showed in her mouth were still in order, even if they’d gone a bit yellowish brown.
“It’s from all the bitterbean I’ve been drinking,” she said, when AuRon asked about it, since he couldn’t discuss the condition of her scale and had no idea what human standards applied to the night-black hair bound in elaborate cording of three colors. “The taste is so familiar, I must have had it as a child, before you found me.”
“Some of the Ghioz trade routes are still intact,” Naf said. “They’re not bad fellows, once you yank the whips out of their hands and don’t curse their dead Queen—to their faces, anyway.”
Naf wore the coats of state of his people. The Dairuss kings of old, evidently, did not go for flashy apparel, perhaps befitting a simple people who grazed a dozen different animals depending on ground—Dairuss was everything from high-mountain passes to rolling, well-watered hills near the great river. While it had never been a rich land in gold or gems, they’d fallen from the heights they’d once, briefly, known when they’d overthrown the evil wizard Anklemere who’d ruled an empire vaster than even the Hypatians had known in their glory.
“And Nissa,” AuRon asked, dredging up the name from his memory.
“Nissa means ‘morning dove’ in my language. Our nickname for her. Now she only answers to the Ghioz court name the Red Queen gave her, Desthenae.”
“Married at eleven, to one of the Princes of the Sunstruck Sea,” Hieba said. “Not our doing, some Ghioz title in charge of her sold her maidenhood and absconded when the Queen’s rule collapsed. We’re just grateful this Prince made her a wife, instead of a concubine, as the men in those parts are wont to do.”
“Those white-turbaned fellows?” AuRon asked. He’d fought them once, to defend his blighter allies in the mountains of Old Uldam.
“It’s a fractious land,” Naf said. “For the most part they keep quarrels among themselves.”
“I hardly know the world outside our island,” Natasatch said, in her shaky Pari. Istach corrected her pronunciation.
“Hieba made an unofficial journey to see her,” Naf said. “She’s, well, even influenced her husband to prefer us to the old Ghioz states in matters of trade routes. Their caravans offload here now, rather than in Ghioz.”
“I’ll be happy to fly you down there,” Natasatch said. “I’m learning that I enjoy travel.”
“Very kind of you—lady…” Naf said, searching for a title.
AuRon harrumphed. “We don’t have any sort of rank you need to refer to. Though we have come to talk to you about this business with the Grand Alliance.”
“It’s a pleasant day,” Naf said. “Perhaps it would be easier for us all to talk outside. I’ll have some chairs brought.”
Once they settled in, Hieba and Naf seated with a few of their court in attendance, AuRon and his family facing them, and some roast mutton long since gone down dragon gullets.
“I’m here to convince you to rejoin the Grand Alliance,” AuRon said.
“That fat SoRolatan was almost as bad as the Ghioz,” Hieba said. “He’d pluck cattle right out of a field or dip his neck right into a net full of fish. He threatened to burn down the dome if we didn’t bring him more coin.”
“Did he protect you from anything?” AuRon asked.
“Biting insects, I suppose,” Naf said. “They avoided his reek.”
“Your kingdom is in an odd predicament,” AuRon said. “I understand it fell into the Grand Alliance rather than joining.”
“I would have your counsel,” Naf said. “Perhaps fresh dragon eyes can perceive that which is puzzlement and dilemma.”
“Counsel? My eyes won’t help you much in political murk,” AuRon said.
“Then let’s escape it. Come, AuRon, I’ll fly, if you’ll humble yourself to bear a human on your proud and unconquered back. Like Tindairuss and NooMoahk of old, eh?”
They brought out sewn-together sheepskins rigged with stirrups and horn. “It’s a saddle for an elephant, if you must know. They’re used down in the logging camps to the south.”
AuRon’s mouth watered at the memory of elephant. Chewy, but one could dine for days.
It took some time for Naf’s saddlemaster, or whatever his title was, to adjust the straps so they fit snug on a dragon. Naf eventually put on a heavy cloak and climbed on.
“Keep your scarf about you,” Hieba said, rechecking his stirrups. “It’s cold, flying on dragon-back.”
“Ah, AuRon,” Naf laughed, “you’re wider than the hunting horses a king rides for pleasure. It’s like sitting atop a flat old plowhorse.”
“Be sure not to tip him,” Natasatch said. “That would be a terrible beginning to our diplomacy.”