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the side of the stream bank and touched the dragon lovingly under the chin,
her scarless chin where none of the slashes that spoke of a lost fight could
be found. Never mind. He did me a favor, whatever he planned. This time with
thee, stolen from thy hatchlings, back in our oasis, has been precious to me.
But now-go back to them. Go back quickly. They need thee as I do not now. Go,
and I will follow.
The red dragon stood and spent a few minutes grooming the sand from her wings.
Then she stretched the mighty ribs to their fullest, until the grey membranes
between were iridescent and backlit by the setting sun. She pumped the wings
once, then twice, pushed off with her legs, and leaped into the air.
Sand swirled around Jakkin and settled into his hair. He rubbed his eyes. When
he opened them again, Heart s Blood was just a dark dot winging home.
chapter 18
THE RED DRAGON was standing impatiently at the barn door, flailing at it with
her tail. If she had not been a mute, she would have been trumpeting her
distress loud enough for everyone in the bondhouse to hear.
The door was shut and barred.
Jakkin, who had been clearly receiving her distressed sending for more than
two kilometers, was exhausted by running. He had not known what was wrong,
only that Heart s Blood was in trouble.
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He flung himself at the door, pushed away the wooden bar, and swung the door
open.
She plunged inside.
From the egg room came a frantic peeping, and she rushed in to comfort her
hatchlings and lay down so that they could scramble up to her. Her presence
calmed them almost at once, and Jakkin hauled in an extra bale of wort.
Soon Heart s Blood was chewing up the wort and drizzling the juices into the
open mouths of the little dragons.
I ll kill him for this, Jakkin thought when he at last had a moment. I ll show
him what a master can do.
Then he remembered Errikkin s shining face when Jakkin had raised his voice.
No, he thought. He wants me to yell at him. He wants me to beat him. That
would make me his kind of master, and I won t do it.
Jakkin closed the door quietly behind the dragon. Sleep well, my beauty. And
do not worry about this.
This I will tend to.
The dragon, busy with her hatchlings, sent only the briefest of colors.
chapter 19
JAKKIN STRODE INTO the bondhouse. He could see down the long hallway that the
door to his
room was open. Keeping his anger in control, he went in.
Effikkin was waiting, his mouth playing with a smile. Master Jakkin? he
said, bowing his head.
I ll be your master for only a few more weeks, Jakkin said. Come culling,
I ll sell a hatchling-one of five, as you well know since you sneaked into the
barn.
But, Master-
Don t Master me. I won t have you around my dragons. I ll sell a hatchling,
give you the money for the bond, which you will give back to me at once. At
once, do you hear? And then you will be free. I
won t manumit you because that s what a friend does, and we are friends no
longer. And I want you to know that you bought yourself out of bond, that you
purchased your own freedom, whatever else you decide to do with it later.
Effikkin stared at him, his eyes furious.
Now get out. Get out of my room. He hadn t meant to raise his voice. He
hadn t meant to let his anger show. Letting any of it show let Errikkin win
just a little.
The door closed, and Jakkin lay down on his bed. Why this? he wondered. Why
now? It seemed that just as he had almost everything he wanted, things were
falling apart. He closed his eyes, and a redgold thread, like a lifeline,
teased into his head. He envisioned putting his hand on the thread. It pulled
tight, pulled him up.
He stood. All right, he said aloud. There was much to do and little time to
get ready. He would eat, sleep, and start the new day.
chapter 19
WITH SO MUCH to do to prepare the brown dragon for his fight and to keep a
constant watch on
Heart s Blood and her hatchlings, Jakkin was surprised how the rest of the
week sped by. Only at night, as he lay alone, waiting for sleep to claim him,
did time move in slow, bitter inches. When he finally slept, his dreams were
filled with images that were blood-drenched and frightening, but when he
awoke, shivering and wet in his bed, he could not recall them.
He was snappish all the time, treating the bonders with quick, unusual
displays of temper-when he talked to them at all. Errikkin he ignored so
obviously it became the talk of the nursery. And gossip being the common coin
in a dragonry, there were soon enortuous bets on the reasons, but neither
Jakkin nor
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Errikkin supplied them.
Sarkkhan was equally testy, but that was usual enough before a fight to
occasion no wagers. Only
Likkam, his bag flush with coins from the Heart s Blood s hatch bet, was in
good humor. And this so disconcerted the bonders that dinnertimes became
strangely silent affairs, with glances and shifting eyes becoming the mode of
communication.
For Jakkin, the training sessions under Sarkkhan s testy tongue were
difficult. The nursery owner criticized every step.
More to the left, the left, Sarkkhan would roar. He keeps his guard down.
His chest is open. His neck
links are exposed. Get him to protect those links.
But when Jakkin went for the tender links with the metal-tipped wands, trying
to force the dragon s guard up, Sarkkhan roared again.
Hind end. Keep the tail moving. Up and over with that tail.
Slash. Slash. Have him slash. Fewmets, boy, what kind of performance is that?
The result was that S Blood, confused by the contradictory signals coming to
him from the two voices and minds he trusted the most, squatted and refused to
move until Slakk was sent to bring a bucketful of bumwort into the ring.
Slakk, who hated the big worms, refused to get into the ring with the
sulking-and therefore dangerousdragon. S Blood, reading his fear, lashed about
with his enormous ridged tail.
Jakkin had to drop the heavy wands, pull them out of their holders on the wand
belt, and take the bucket from the cowering Slakk.
You re about as useful, he hissed at his old bondmate, as a flikka in an
egg room. Even L Erikk would be better.
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