Polandra glanced at him and he heard her unspoken words. ‘Or someone.’
We will learn the truth of that place, worry not.
You can count on it, dear-heart. Aeron gave Anaya a pat as he passed her on the way from the investigation office to his rooms. He gave Balam a scratch under the chin as well. A pleased rumble and a chirp were his happy responses.
That Anaya had found a romantic partner in the big green dragon made Aeron very happy. He’d never even imagined that dragons might not actually fall in love with other dragons. He was happy that she could experience it.
Willem was in the water closet, brushing his teeth. Aeron joined him.
“So,” the blond boy said, “how did the meeting go?” His words were a little muffled through the toothpaste foam.
Aeron twisted his lips in a half-frown. “Not great, but not bad, either.” He grabbed his toothbrush, applied a gob of paste, and got to brushing.
Willem spit and rinsed his mouth. “Oh?”
“She’s not opposed to Polandra and I going to see what we can find.”
Willem frowned.
“But we have to do it in our spare time.”
“I could go with you.”
“Three of us?” Aeron shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
“That’s not—” Willem cleared his throat. “When do you think you’ll go?”
“Dunno. We’ll have to check all our schedules and see if and when we have time.”
“Right.” Willem nodded. He stared at Aeron a moment, then headed to bed.
Aeron finished brushing his teeth.
The idea that dragons were killing people offended him. It was as if someone were spreading rumors that fluffy kittens were slaughtering folks. Aeron shook his head. It made no sense. There were the dead people, too. Body parts had been found. That meant that while the attacks had likely been faked to imply dragons had done it, there were still people who had been killed. Didn’t he and the guild have an obligation to find out what was killing them and help stop it if they could?
Aeron stared at his reflection. Whatever others thought about it, he had a feeling that those attacks at the flats were important.
Chapter 11
Therday, Primory 16, 1875.
Late Afternoon
Millinith kept her smile small. It wouldn’t do if it seemed she were making light of him. On the other side of the office, Doronal stuck his head in from the den, saw the young man, and ducked back out.
“The curriculum is incredibly exciting,” Liflin said, hands waving about. “I have never seen the like. So many disciplines touched upon, and rightly so.”
She nodded.
“Sorcery, Zoology, Healing, Martial Arts—martial arts!” He smiled and shook his head, bemused. “Leather, Investigation, Archive.” He looked at her. “The craft list goes on and on.”
“I can only hope—”
“I mean, when I first read over what would be involved, my interest was piqued. And when I was hired? Garathel’s great, ah, hammer, I was very happy. Then, as I dug deeper into the materials . . . I cannot tell you how excited I am to be a part of this.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Millinith said.
“And I’m not the only one. Everyone is excited—” He stopped and frowned, rubbing his chin. “Except that one woman. She doesn’t seem as thrilled.” He sat forward in the chair. “I’m sure she will be, though, once we get into more of the other disciplines.”
“Well, I certainly hope everyone continues to share your enthusiasm going forward. Just keep in mind that the disciplines the dragonlinked will be trained in are all in service to our purpose: helping people and keeping them as safe as we can, dragons included.”
“Of course, of course.”
“And, keeping the dragonlinked safe, as well.”
He nodded. “Absolutely. In light of that, there were a few suggestions I had about the magic craft training. If it wouldn’t be presumptuous of me, that is.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. I’m open to suggestions. I obviously can’t make promises about any changes, but I definitely want to hear any ideas people have.”
“Excellent.” He removed a sheet of paper from his satchel and handed it to her. “I’ve outlined the proposed adjustments here.”
“Thank you. I’ll look over these when I have a moment.”
Liflin stood and said, “I did have one question.”
“Yes?”
“Was there going to be some kind of official ‘meet the dragons’ kind of thing?” Bobbing on his toes, smiling, he suddenly looked ten years old. “I so want to meet them.”
She couldn’t help herself. Laughing, she said, “I’m sure that as long as you don’t pester them, neither the dragons nor the dragonlinked will mind if you stop by to say hello. It might be polite to first ask permission of the dragonlinked, though, as a kind of courtesy, before barging into their dragon’s den.”
“Absolutely.” Another quick grin. “And it wouldn’t do to surprise a dragon, I suppose. They’re quite big.”
As he dashed out of the office, Millinith pondered the wisdom of having an instructor that was so young. After looking over his suggestions, however, she had to admit that the young man knew his sorcery. He must have had some healing training at some point, because most of the suggestions had to do with that branch of the craft. Though, at his age, when had he had the time to study healing on top of Animal Craft and Magic Craft?
Now that she thought about it, his youth probably wouldn’t be an issue. He’d mostly be training newly accepted, and most of those would be fourteen years old or so. Though that tradition might change, depending on what more they learned about bonding.
They now knew that older dragons would bond. Ikan was proof of that. How much older dragons could be and still bond they didn’t yet know. But more to the point, they didn’t know how old candidates could be and still have dragons interested in bonding with them. Anaya had made mention of something of the sort before, but so far, even though she and the masters had been present at most of the hatchings, only younger people had been chosen as bond-mates. Honestly, though, she had absolutely no time for a bond-mate right now.
She grimaced and rubbed her knees. Another storm was brewing, more like than not. And this might be a big one.
Doronal poked his head in again. “Is he gone?”
“Are you hiding from him?”
With a sheepish expression, he walked in. “Mayhap.” Slumping into a chair, he said, “The boy makes me tired just listening to him. The amount of energy he has borders on offensive.”
Chuckling, she said, “He’s not that bad. And when have you had a chance to talk with him? Did he corner you after instructor training one day?”
“Not exactly. He gave you his suggestions?”
Millinith glanced at the sheet of paper. “Yes. Oh.” She looked back at him. “I see. He went over these with you beforehand.”
“In great detail over a number of days.”
His pained expression made her laugh. “Then you understand just how good he is.”
“I do. And it would actually behoove us to make a few of the changes he suggested. Some of them are impractical, however, and some, I think, would be better handled at apprentice level. We haven’t broached the apprentice curriculum yet in instructor training. If we had, I’m sure Liflin’s suggestions would have been different.”
“Why didn’t you mention that to him when he went over these ideas with you?”
“I’m not sure.” He twisted his lips. “A perverse desire to not make every change he suggested?”
A little taken aback, she crossed her arms. “That isn’t very nice.”
He let out a resigned sigh. “I know.” Raising a brow, he glanced at her. “Are you going to punish me, Guildmaster?”
The gleam in his eyes notwithstanding, she was still a bit upset with him. “I just might.”
Aeron and Willem walked in, chatting. Doronal’s cheeks flushed
and he quickly sat up in his chair. Millinith chuckled at his discomfiture. It seemed he didn’t want everyone to see him in his natural state, so to speak.
When everyone had arrived, she said, “If you could let us know what you’ve found, Cheddar?”
He stood. “Sharrah and I have been scouring the library for the past several days, searching for anything about the Order. One of the things we found was an original version of the Hour of Creation.”
“Well,” Sharrah said, “we found what it was likely based, on, anyway.”
“Exactly,” Cheddar said. “Unlike the Hour of Creation, however, the version we found lists no specifics, at least as far as the extra gifts bestowed on the world by Yrdra and Ulthis.”
“But,” Sharrah said, “knowing what we know, it is impossible not to read certain things into it.”
Cheddar nodded. “Yrdra’s final ‘gift’ was nahual, and Ulthis’s final gift, attuned to the magic she used in creating them, was dragons.”
“The exact opposite of everything the Order has stood for.” Renata looked grim.
“Yes,” Cheddar said. “Now, as far as the Corpus Order itself, we found very little.”
“Not surprising, I suppose,” Aeron said. “Why would the Caer library have information on a relatively unknown group from way down south?”
“We had to try,” Sharrah said, a little defensively. “And after a lot of searching, we did find something. The Corpus Order is a not-for-profit business.”
“A business?” Gregor looked surprised, then he his eyes narrowed. “Although, there are certain advantages to a non-profit.”
“Those bastards.” Renata sat back in her chair. “As if there weren’t enough lies from them, they’re actually a company?”
“Not-for-profits can be quite different from normal businesses,” Millinith said. “And as Gregor mentioned, there are a few advantages in going that route. But what is their purpose?”
“The listing didn’t say.” Cheddar shrugged. “It only showed that the Corpus Order was founded one hundred and forty three years ago.”
“Even a not-for-profit needs to make money,” Doronal said, “at least enough to pay for expenses. How do they do so?”
“Agave,” Polandra said, glancing at Renata. “There are a great number of fields west of Bataan-Mok where it is grown.”
“What’s agave?” Fillion looked from one girl to the other.
“It’s a plant,” Renata said. “It can be used to make all kinds of things. Its flowers are edible, and a sweetener can be made from its sap. Paper can be made from the plant, too, and the leaves have fibers that can be woven into a rough cloth, or made into twine or rope, and its root is edible if properly cooked or can be used to make a kind of alcohol.”
“One plant can be used all those ways?” Jessip’s brows nearly touched his hair.
“Yes,” Polandra said. “In fact, the largest number of the Order’s members work in one way or another with agave. The results are sold to trade caravans and the villages.”
While this information was interesting, Millinith had hoped to learn something more about their leadership. She looked at Cheddar. “Were you able to find anything about how they function internally?”
“No.” Cheddar frowned. “There was nothing else in the library.”
“There will likely be something at the Bureau of Business Affairs in Delcimaar,” Sharrah noted.
“What about organizational structure?” Millinith said. “Renata? Polandra? How are things decided in the Order?”
“I attended and scheduled several meetings with and for the Nesch,” Renata said, “and from what I remember, the Umeri, the Nesch, and the Capu were the only ones involved in major decisions.”
“Umeri?” Cheddar turned to her. “I thought manisi were the next highest positions under the Nesch?”
“The umeri are a kind of ruling council,” Renata said, “whose members are in charge of the various sections of the Order. The thing is, members of the Order cannot choose to become an umeron. A manis is the highest position a normal member of the Order can work towards, at least on their own.”
“I don’t understand.” Liara looked confused.
Millinith was confused as well. “On their own?”
After a quick glance at Polandra, Renata said, “Upon a vacancy, a replacement umeron, selected from among all current Order members who aren’t already umeri, is nominated by the Capu. The umeri vote on whether to approve the nominee. Nominees are selected again and again until one of them is approved. A similar process is used to select a replacement Nesch or Capu. Though it is the umeri who select nominees for those two positions, nominees that are selected from amongst the umeri themselves.”
Millinith frowned. Didn’t the other members of the Order have a say—
“Hang on,” Aeron said. “So the regular members of the Order, the ones who actually do all the work, they don’t have any control over who leads them?”
Just as interested in the answer, Millinith looked from Aeron to Renata.
The girl shook her head. “Only in so much as replacement umeri are selected from among them. The umeri, the Nesch, and the Capu run the Corpus Order.”
“Hmm.” Doronal drummed his fingers on the table.
Millinith glanced at him. “Did you think of something?”
He sat forward. “Neither Renata nor Polandra knew the Order was a business. Perhaps that is because the only employees of the business are the umeri, the Nesch, and the Capu. Everyone else is considered a volunteer.”
“Volunteers?” Renata looked surprised, and angry.
Millinith twisted her lips. “Perhaps.” She looked at Renata. “What exactly is it that the umeri do?”
“Different sections in the Order are the responsibility of one or more umeri. The manisi, for instance, are led by two umeri. Three are in charge of the pesani, while four lead the crusani.”
As Renata explained further, Millinith was surprised at how many divisions of labor there were in the Corpus Order: Cleaning, maintenance, guards, cooking, treasury, a number having to do with agave farming, and on and on. It reminded Millinith of all the areas she had to deal with for the guild.
“And the Nesch?” she asked. “What does he do?”
“He oversees the umeri,” Polandra said. “And as such, he has some influence over them.”
“Exactly,” Renata said. “Though they do have a bit of freedom in how they handle their sections, the Nesch can make suggestions or even overrule an umeron. He also handles most of the problems that arise, and reports to the Capu.”
“What about the Capu?” Millinith said. “The leader. What powers come with that position?”
Renata frowned. “I used to think the Capu had full control of the Order, but it’s actually more like a guiding hand nudging the Order along. Don’t misunderstand, the Capu can do things, it’s just that the Umeri and the Nesch have more direct power.”
Millinith grunted. “That’s why he needs our help.”
+ + + + +
It is good to fly, is it not?
Willem leaned forward and patted Balam on the neck. Yes, it is!
Balam’s happy rumble vibrated through the saddle and made Willem smile. The evening sun behind them sat not far above the horizon and cast long shadows from the winter-naked trees below. Like freakishly elongated fingers, the shadows stretched to the east, reaching, it seemed, for some far destination. A destination he and Balam were flying toward.
The Guildmaster had cleverly insisted that a few dragonlinked tour all the rail lines beforehand. ‘For the dragonlinked to get an idea of what they are to do,’ she’d told Lord Eldin. ‘And for your people to see dragons and get used to the idea that they will be around.’ In reality, it had been so they’d have gateway destinations. As such, they were able to open portals to their patrol areas right from the start.
This was Willem’s first patrol stint. They’d been on it, now, for perhaps an hour. He pulled out the pocket c
hronometer and glanced at it. Make that an hour and a quarter. As he tried to tuck it back in the pocket on the jacket, the chronometer slipped and fell.
Shit!
Luckily, it dropped between his legs and sat there. He picked it up and carefully slipped it back in its pocket. Five pocket chronometers had been lost in the last few months. The devices were not inexpensive. He really needed to come up with a way to secure them better. Perhaps a chain, like some of the men used, could be attached via a clip to a ring on the jacket? The time-keeping devices were invaluable for making log entries and for making sure they didn’t miss a scheduled patrol. Still, a chain could get caught on something, especially during a fight. Perhaps it would be better if they started using those chrono-bracelets that were getting popular. Having the things secured to their wrists would make it difficult to lose them during a battle or drop them while in flight.
Willem spent several minutes going over ideas on how to incorporate the devices into riding gear. The patrol was boring in and of itself, and doing so kept his mind occupied. Even so, he eventually exhausted designs for glove flaps, leather straps, and snap-covers. Then he could do nothing but think again on his problem.
He’d been a bit out of sorts since they found that his, Aeron’s, and Polandra’s schedules seemed to have been deliberately assigned so that, at least for the next two weeks, the only free time the three of them had together was after diner. Not the best time to try to explore. Aeron and Polandra, however, both had the end of the afternoon and the evening free tomorrow. That’s when they decided to go back to the South.
Willem honestly couldn’t blame them. His enchanting shift would end just as they wanted to leave, so he would not be able to go. He’d be much too exhausted. Enchanting always made him tired, much more so than Aeron or anyone else he’d asked about it. If he went with them, it would just be his luck to fall asleep in the saddle. No, better to stay.
Once again, Aeron and Polandra would go on a trip by themselves.
A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 Page 19
