“Thank you both,” said Stephano. “And thank you for your care of the wild dragons. I am glad to find out you have been training them.”
“Asked us to train them, sir,” said Droal.
“The wild dragons asked you?” Stephano was astonished.
“Want to fly with you,” said Hroal.
Stephano was pleased, but perplexed.
“I was hoping when we first encountered these dragons that they might want to learn to carry human riders. I told them stories about the Brigade, but I wasn’t sure they understood.”
“They did, sir. Elders still remember humans. Told stories to the young. Not good, some of the stories.” Droal shook his head.
“Bitter,” Hroal added sadly. “Don’t trust humans.”
“I guessed as much,” said Stephano. “That’s why they were afraid of us. But if that is true, why did the elders teach their young the human language? And why did the elders permit the young dragons to come after us?”
Hroal and Droal glanced at each other. Hroal nodded to his brother, indicating Droal was to speak. Stephano noticed with concern that Hroal still appeared to be recovering from his wounds. He settled comfortably on the ground, leaving his brother to explain.
“Elders don’t know the young ones left,” said Droal.
“Good God, sir!” Dag exclaimed. “They ran away from home!”
“Dragon Brigade,” said Droal by way of explanation. “Heard the stories. Adventure. Glory.”
Dag was grinning at Stephano. “Here’s your chance, sir! Our own Dragon Brigade.”
“What should I tell them?” Droal asked.
Stephano had secretly nursed a hope that this was the reason the wild dragons had followed him. He hadn’t let himself believe it, hadn’t wanted to be disappointed. He had imagined himself flying again so many times. The ground below, the dragon’s wings shredding the mists of the Breath … He could offer to escort the Sommerwind …
Gythe punched him in the arm. “Miri,” she signed. “She needs to know. Now.”
Stephano came back out of the clouds.
“You’re right. I have to talk to Miri before I decide. I’ll go alone. You and Gythe wait here.”
“Good luck,” Gythe signed.
“Thanks,” Stephano said, sighing. “I’ll need it.”
He walked back to the château and sought out Miri in the library, where she was happily engrossed in reading one of his father’s books. She was so deep in her studies that she didn’t hear him enter.
He stood looking at her for long moments. He had been thinking about the wild dragons, making plans. He had to try to make her understand.
He braced himself. “Miri, we need to talk. I know about the wild dragons, why they’re here, what they want.”
“Good! Tell me,” said Miri.
She closed the book, sat back in the chair, and smiled at him.
Stephano removed a sheet from one of the other chairs, raising a cloud of dust. He paused a moment to sneeze, then sat down. The beginning was the easy part. The hard part would come at the end.
Stephano ran his hand through his hair, embarrassed. “The young dragons have been training with Droal and Hroal. They claim they left without permission from the elders.”
“You don’t believe that?”
“I don’t know what to believe.” Stephano remembered the elder dragon, circling their boat the night they left.
“Then send them back,” said Miri.
“I don’t think they’ll go. They want to stay with us,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
“You have your heart set on flying again.” Miri sighed. “I knew the moment I set eyes on those dragons that you would be back up in the clouds.”
Stephano stood up, took hold of her hands, and held her fast when she tried to pull away. “I need you to understand. The joy you feel at the helm of the Cloud Hopper, riding the storm wind, that’s the joy I feel when I’m flying. I’ve ridden dragons since before I could walk. They are my life, Miri, as sailing your boat is yours.”
She looked up at him, then gave a grudging smile. Slowly she drew her hands away. He let her go.
“What are you going to do about Captain Leydecker?” she asked briskly. “You promised you would sail with him.”
“I was thinking he might like having dragon riders protect his ship,” said Stephano.
“Dragon riders,” said Miri, emphasizing the plural. “You mean you and Dag and Gythe. She’ll want to fly. She’s talked of nothing else…”
“Come see the dragons for yourself,” Stephano urged. “How much they’ve learned. Gythe asked me to bring you.”
“You trust these beasts, even though you don’t know why they’re here.”
“We all have secrets,” said Stephano, his eyes fixed on her.
Miri blushed deeply and said nothing.
She and Stephano reached the practice field to find only Hroal and Droal. Stephano glanced around.
“Where are the wild dragons?”
“Up there, sir,” said Droal.
Dag and Verdi were flying far above them. Dag had rummaged about the estate during his time here and found the dragon-riding equipment in the storehouse. Verdi was now outfitted with a saddle, Droal having explained to both Dag and Verdi how to strap it onto the dragon. Catching sight of Miri below, Dag and Verdi did a rolling maneuver in midair; the straps in the saddle holding Dag secure as the dragon flipped upside down.
Stephano was proud of his pupil, though he did wish Dag had chosen a more propitious time to show off his skills. Miri was clutching his arm so tightly she seemed likely to cut off the circulation.
Gythe was riding Petard. Stephano had hoped Gythe would choose the steadier, more stable dragon, Viola, but Petard was obviously enamored of Gythe, and she clearly loved the young dragon. In the end, the two had chosen each other. Stephano was actually glad he was left with Viola, the natural leader. The two of them would make a good team.
The dragons had now begun to practice landings. Dag and Verdi were the worst at landing that Stephano had ever seen and he had small hope they would improve. To see Verdi hit with such force Stephano figured Dag would be lucky if he had a tooth left in his head.
Gythe and Petard landed next. Petard flew in at exactly the right speed, dropping down as lightly as an autumn leaf spiraling to the ground. Gythe unhooked the straps that held her in the saddle, took off the helm, and climbed down from the dragon. She gave Petard a pat on the neck, which obviously pleased the dragon, then ran to her sister.
Gythe’s pale hair streamed behind her and her blue eyes shone. She was laughing and breathless. Her body quivered with excitement.
Miri watched her and couldn’t help but smile, even as she sighed. “What have you done, Stephano?”
“Gythe has always lived in the shadow of your protection, Miri. Let her feel the sunshine.”
Miri held her arms wide. Gythe ran to her sister’s embrace and the two hugged and wept. Dag joined them, covered in dirt and bleeding from where he’d bitten his tongue.
“Did you see that barrel roll, sir?” he asked proudly.
“I did,” said Stephano. “I saw the landing, too.”
“We were a little rough,” Dag conceded, spitting blood. “Can’t quite seem to get the hang of that. We’ll keep working on it, though.”
Gythe kissed Miri and then ran back to Petard to remove the heavy saddle. She refused to allow anyone to help her, insisting that she must learn to do this herself.
“Stop it, Stephano,” Miri said.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“Grinning like you’ve caught a glimpse of heaven.”
Her voice trembled as she spoke. Stephano put his arm around her.
“Don’t be mad if I say I did, Miri. To see dragons flying above my house again; to fly with my friends…”
“You’re going to get yourelves killed,” Miri said.
“Miri…”
“I know, I know.” She turned to him,
clasped both his hands in hers. “Promise me you will look after them, Stephano. The three people I love best in the world are in your care.”
“I do promise, Miri, with all my heart.”
Stephano drew her close. She gazed up at him and seemed to relax in his arms. He was overcome with love and tenderness and he bent to kiss her.
Miri hurriedly averted her face and pulled away.
“Don’t, Stephano, please,” she said in a low voice.
Stephano saw Dag watching and thought he understood.
“And take comfort from this, Miri,” Stephano said teasingly, “if anything happens to us, you’ll always have Rodrigo.”
He fled before Miri could hit him.
* * *
The training continued for several more days as they waited to hear word from the captain of the Sommerwind that they were ready to sail. Rummaging about in the cellar, Stephano discovered some old Dragon Brigade flight coats. He couldn’t find one large enough to fit Dag, so Miri managed to cobble one together, cutting a coat apart and sewing in gussets to expand it. A training coat that had belonged to Stephano as a boy fitted Gythe. She was so charmed with it, she insisted on wearing it all day and would have slept in it if Miri had permitted.
Stephano worked his pupils—all of them, dragons and humans alike—hard. He taught the riders how to rappel from a hovering dragon, and instructed dragons and riders in the use of the bosun’s pipe, teaching them to communicate by means of various calls. The dragons, with their excellent hearing, could detect the high-pitched whistles over long distances. The use of the bosun’s pipe, which could be worn around the rider’s neck, was far quicker and more effective in battle than shouted voice commands.
Stephano demonstrated to Dag how to load and fire weapons when riding on the back of a dragon. He did not teach Gythe to use weapons because he knew Miri would be opposed; this was a line he could not cross.
Stephano would not have taught Gythe to use weapons anyway. For Gythe, riding the dragon was like singing her songs, playing her harp, working her magic. She found wondrous pleasure in flying, and he was not about to sully her joy by teaching her how to kill.
Stephano and Sergeant Droal took Petard aside one day to counsel the young dragon on taking extra care to protect his rider. Stephano was glad to see the dragon, who tended to be a little feckless, settle down and appear to take their concerns seriously.
“Above all, Petard,” said Stephano earnestly, “if there’s any fighting, you need to fly Gythe to safety. Never mind what she says. Those are my orders.”
Stephano practiced flying with Viola and found that, just as he had hoped, the dragon was quick and eager to learn. With some jealousy she had been watching her two comrades work with their riders, and she was glad to show off her own skills. Stephano was pleased and told her they would make a good team.
Viola said something to Sergeant Droal, who translated. “Call her ‘Lady Viola.’”
“What?” Stephano was startled. “Why?”
“Your stories. Lady Cam. Partner. Friend. Same.” Droal shook his head sadly. “Wild dragons. Know nothing. Noble. Common. All the same to them. Savages.”
He went on to explain that wild dragons had their own hierarchy, which was very simple. The elder dragons wielded the authority in the clans. Other than that, all the dragons held equal status. This was quite different from the class-conscious civilized dragons, who lived and died by titles and rank. Sergeant Droal had tried to explain the concept of dukes and duchesses, counts and princes of dragonkind and why noble dragons considered themselves better than the common dragons such as himself and his brother. The wild dragons had been extremely confused.
Stephano decided that if Viola wanted to be called lady, he would do so, and gladly. He had a feeling that he and Viola were going to form a bond almost as close as the one that had existed between himself and Lady Cam.
He was coming off the field after practice, hot and sweaty, dirty and happy, when Sergeant Droal called out that he and his brother would like to speak to him. He saw at once that something was wrong. The two brothers had always treated the lord captain with the utmost respect and deference. Now they both appeared very uncomfortable as they approached him. Hroal looked at Droal and jerked his head, urging his brother to speak.
“Come out with it, Sergeant,” Stephano said at last, addressing Droal. “What’s on your mind?”
“Practice gone well, sir,” said Sergeant Droal.
“Yes, I think it has,” said Stephano. “I’d like another six months or so, but that’s not going to happen.”
“No, sir,” said Droal. He and Hroal looked at each other again.
“If that’s all, sergeants—”
“Secrets, sir,” said Droal abruptly.
“You need to be more specific,” said Stephano.
“Young ones,” said Hroal. “Secrets.”
“Saw them. Heads together,” said Droal. “Talking. I come up. Quit talking. Look furtive.”
Stephano frowned. “Did you manage to overhear anything they were saying?”
“Heard them say ‘raeg men.’”
“‘Raeg men,’” Stephano repeated, puzzled. “What does ‘raeg’ mean?”
“Opposite of roed,” said Hroal.
“And what does that mean?”
“Us. Our being. Roed and raeg.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” said Stephano.
“Those you call ‘bat riders,’ raeg men,” said Droal.
“They were talking about the bat riders? Why would they be secretive about that?”
The dragons had no answer.
“Just thought you should know, sir,” said Droal.
He saluted and the two dragons took to the air, leaving Stephano to ponder what they’d told him. He had already guessed the young dragons were keeping secrets from him. He wasn’t surprised, nor was he particularly worried. Dragons tended to be private regarding their own affairs. Lady Cam and Stephano had been together a long time before she shared personal thoughts and fears. It was natural the young dragons should have secrets.
Yet, he was trusting his life to them, trusting the lives of his friends …
A shadow washed over him. He looked up to see Viola flying above. The dragon circled him several times. Her purple scales shimmered in the sunlight, some taking on a blue tint, others flaring red. He admired her, thought how beautiful she was; how beautiful and how wild. She was different from the noble dragons he had known. Smaller, sleeker, faster, she was quicker to think and react. She dipped her wings and flew off.
Stephano returned to the château to talk to Dag, found him taking a swim in the lake. Stephano stripped off his clothes and joined him. When the two were toweling themselves dry, Stephano related the conversation between himself, Droal, and Hroal.
“I trust Verdi, sir,” said Dag stoutly. “I’ve served with a lot of men and I’m a fair judge of character. I trust that dragon with my life.”
“Even though they’re keeping secrets from us,” said Stephano, running his fingers through his wet hair by way of a comb.
“You and I have secrets, sir,” said Dag, shrugging. “We trust each other.”
Stephano sought out Gythe and found her in the music room. She’d discovered the clavichord that had belonged to Stephano’s grandmother. The instrument had been badly out of tune. Gythe had tuned it herself, saying it was much like tuning her harp, and was picking out one of the Trundler songs.
“I need to talk to you, Gythe, about the wild dragons. I need your opinion.”
He told her about his conversation with the sergeants, his own misgivings. Gythe listened attentively.
“What do you think we should do?”
Gythe smiled and then simply lifted her arms as if she were flying. Considering the matter settled, she went back to her music.
Last, Stephano talked to Miri. She was in the kitchen, kneading bread. She had flour up to her elbows, flour on her face and in her hair. She
slapped the dough, picked it up, threw it onto the flour-covered board, and listened to Stephano.
“They’re young, about sixteen in our years,” said Stephano in conclusion. “Maybe I should send them home.”
Miri dug the heels of her hands into the dough, flipped it over. “Remember when you were sixteen? You fought alongside your father in the rebellion. What would you have done if he had tried to send you home?”
Stephano was silent, thoughtful. His father had tried to send him home. Miri left her bread dough to put a floury hand over his.
“Petard saved Gythe’s life on the island because of her music and your stories. You have to let the dragons fly with you. Otherwise they might go roaming about the countryside and get into all manner of trouble.”
“Then just Dag and I will take the risk. I won’t let Gythe fly…”
“I’d like to see you try to stop her,” Miri said briskly. “You’ve made a change in Gythe. For the first time since our parents died, she’s happy. Truly happy.”
Stephano watched her knead the dough, wondering how to say what was in his heart. “Thank you, Miri.”
“For what?” she asked, thumping the dough.
“For your support. And your friendship.”
They were alone in the kitchen. He started to put his arm around her.
“Don’t you come near me, Stephano!” Miri scolded, fending off his advances with a dough-covered wooden spoon. “I just cleaned those breeches you’re wearing and I don’t want flour all over them Now go make yourself decent for supper.”
But she smiled at him as he left.
* * *
The next afternoon, a sailor brought word from the captain that the Sommerwind would sail in two days’ time. Stephano still had to negotiate with the captain about hiring on dragon riders and he decided they should leave the next morning. He sent word to Rodrigo, who sent back word he would be ready, adding in a postscript that they were going to be astounded when they saw what he had done to spruce up his uniform.
“That gives me cold chills, sir,” said Dag.
“You’re not alone,” said Stephano.
Rodrigo joined them the following morning, arriving with a large, heavy crate and wearing a uniform resplendent with gold braid, gold buttons, gold frogs, and epaulettes.
Storm Riders Page 49
