“The day I start forgetting dragons is the day I’ll be fit for my last trip beyond the surf aboard a flaming raft. But I’m not ready for my last ride yet, if you think you’ll be taking over in the name of the Empire—”
“Nothing like that. I’ve given up all claim to any title or position. It’s been years since I’ve had any part of the Empire. I’m a wandering exile, lonely for the smell of my kind.”
“Smell we have, all you want, free as air. You take anything else, I expect you to work for it. Everyone earns their keep in the tower, man or dragon.”
“What is the price of a decent meal?”
“A ride to the top of the tower. Don’t worry about a saddle, I know how to hook on to scale for short trips. I need to check the fire-wardens up there. I found some drips of whale oil at the bottom of the tower, which means they’re getting sloppy again, and I don’t want my tower burned to the ground. Ain’t like whale oil is cheap, neither.”
She introduced herself as Gettel and clung to him using her knees and ankles. The Copper sighed and extended the wing again. He double-checked the condition of the locking-peg. It would be just his luck for it to give way at the top and have him kill the mistress of the tower by accident.
The Copper wasn’t used to bearing a person. He’d last done it in his youth and he didn’t like the sensation. His neck was a vulnerable spot for a blade.
“So, sick of old Scabia at the Sadda-Vale, m’dragon?”
“I’m lonely,” the Copper said, honestly enough. “I’ve spent too much of my life in decisive thought and action. A life of contemplation of the day’s fish haul and techniques of de-boning and filet preparation isn’t for me.”
“If it’s activity ye seek, I can use you. There’s coin in it for you to eat—I know there’s precious little of that where you come from. Not just messenger-flying, either, but real fighting. Feel up to taking on some dwarfs? I’ve a rich commission from the Hypatians.”
“I’ve no enemies among dwarfs. All mine are farther south.”
“Your Empire. They tried to get me to join, but I don’t care to call another my master. Between them to the south and the barbarian chiefs to the north, Juutfod is in a bad way. Both would like to claim this tower and my dragons.”
“I don’t care to call anyone my master, either,” the Copper said.
“RuGaard, you won’t. Partnership is what I’m thinking. I know your reputation. I’ve heard you praised by tongues that don’t find words of praise easily. To be honest, I could use a dragon with some leadership experience in the tower. I can put it on paper if that’s your preference. Got a copy of the old Chartered Company articles around here somewhere that I copy from, if your tastes run to laying everything out on a bit of thin rag.”
“I’m as rusty as this wing joint. To tell you the truth, being Tyr was mostly a figurehead position. People listened to me because I was up on a golden perch with bodyguards all around.”
“We could give it a try for a while. You might find you like it here. I know there’s dissatisfaction down south. We might get another recruit or two, and I could sure use ’em, if this tower’s to keep free to do our business the way we like.”
This was close enough to perfect that the Copper wondered if it was some kind of trap. Was old Gettel holding some kind of bounty offer from the Empire for his death or capture? Would she take him below, just to have an axe-wielding blighter strike his neck from the shadows?
“I’d like to know more about this tower and what it does,” the Copper said.
She escorted him to a wooden platform large and heavy-timbered enough to support a curled dragon. It could be raised or lowered from a quadruple brace by means of chains and heavy woven cables.
“Counterweight at the other end,” she explained. “This is the fifth version of the lifter. Just six men working a capstan can lift our heaviest dragon to the top. Try to keep to the center—less wear and tear if it’s balanced.”
She reached up and rang a brass bell three times by its pull. There was a pause and then the Copper felt the wood shift beneath his feet. The platform ascended as though by magic. Guide-cables kept it stable.
In the light-filled upper chambers, dragons reclined with viewing slits to the world outside and wide balconies to the central shaft. The Copper guessed she had eight full-grown dragons. There were two drakes and six drakka, a typical ratio. One female, probably ready to lay eggs, had a splendid retreat near the ground floor, with a heavy timbered egg shelf with huge iron-bound beams forming a lattice that protected her yet gave her light, air, and a good look at the activity of the tower.
The wealth and knowledge that went into the construction of the tower astonished him. When he’d seen it years ago, he’d assumed it was some relic still standing from a lost high civilization, but on closer inspection of the walls and timbers it looked as though it had been built in his lifetime. The Copper had had no idea any humans outside Hypatia could achieve something like this, save under the whips of slave-gang organizers such as the Ghioz.
So there was inspiration and mind in the north, as well. Perhaps the barbarians would one day rise to greatness. “How would you like to be known here? You’re welcome to leave your name behind, if you like.”
“I’ve plenty of identifying marks. Still, we might as well confuse the issue.”
“Some of the dragons take names in the local tongue. ‘Broadwing’ and all that. It’s more friendly to human mouths.”
“I don’t know the local language.”
“You’ll pick it up, if you speak some Parl. How about ‘Brighteye’?”
“I like it,” the Copper said. “What does it mean?”
She explained that she was referring to the good one, not the milky and half-shut bad eye, and he accepted the name. So he became ‘Brighteye’ in Juutfod tower. He met Loic Varlson, the chief dragon-handler, and a few stout bodies who knew how to ride or care for dragons. Many of them were descendants of “wizard men” from the Isle of Ice. One of them didn’t like the look of Scabia’s dragonhelm; he said it “looked elvish.” There were a few blighters around to aid in the cleaning and working the capstans, but no dwarfs or elves in the tower.