Dragon Blood

Tisala smiled. She bowed in return. Women who topped six feet looked ridiculous and awkward bobbing up and down, so she avoided curtsies when she could. She remembered meeting Lord Duraugh and his son any number of times in Estian, though she doubted they could say the same.

"Lady," said Beckram.

"I congratulate you on the upcoming birth of your child, Lord Beckram."

A glorious smile lit his weary face. "Yes, and I'd give my right arm to be with her now, but I wouldn't sacrifice Ward—no more than Ciarra would let me. My mother's there, and she's devoted to my wife. Ward's troubles aside, we'd have put her in more danger by staying—the king's men won't fool around at Iftahar when they're looking for us." He turned his attention to Lord Duraugh. "Father, we don't have much time. What are we doing?"

"Stala," said Lord Duraugh, "I've got to leave you here. No sense rescuing the boy and having Hurog overrun while we're about it. How many men do you need?"

"You've fifty men with you, and we can mount that and fifty more on trained, well-rested horses," Stala said. If she felt any resentment at being left behind, Tisala couldn't see it. "That leaves a hundred here—more than I need. If you'd like, we can pull a few more horses off pasture …"

"No," said Duraugh. "I don't want to feed and house more than a hundred in Estian anyway. It's too expensive and u

"As to expenses," said Tosten, "I know you didn't bring much extra from Iftahar. Hurog can help support this army—I know that Ward has some gold stored away. I'll bring it as well."

Duraugh nodded. "It would help. I have some banked in Estian, of course, but I wasn't pla

"I'm coming, too," said Tisala. "I know the Asylum and I owe Ward a favor."

Duraugh hesitated, obviously wondering why Haverness's daughter would know anything about the Asylum. A shrewd look passed over his face. "We'd be delighted to have you."

That fast he'd made the co

"Good," she said, half surprised that Lord Duraugh's speculations bothered her not at all. Being at Hurog had obviously made her less wary. "I'll stay out of sight in Estian. You don't want the Hurog name tied to that of a known rebel."

He nodded and turned back to Stala. "Can you get my men settled? They need the rest. We'll start at first light tomorrow—we've that much lead over the king's men."

In the morning it was Tosten who organized the distribution of fresh horses, while Stala dealt with men and supplies. Tisala helped where she could, saddling horses and ru

Tisala knew that something was up from the expressions on the various faces of the guards around her, but the mare didn't bolt or show any signs of bucking when Tisala lowered herself onto her back.

"That's Feather," Tosten said, stepping into the saddle of his own fresh mount

"What's wrong with her?" asked Tisala, indicating the watching crowd with a sweep of her gaze.

Tosten gri

Tisala was taken aback, knowing how Ward felt about his horses. Had her feelings for Ward been so obvious? She didn't allow anything to cross her face, but she was afraid Tosten saw it anyway. He gri

Stala stepped up beside her and put a hand on the chestnut's shoulder. "When this is over," she said quietly, "visit us again. Ward would enjoy sharing Hurog with you."

Stala gri

Tisala glanced around quickly to make sure no one was listening. "I am older than he by five years, and hardly a beauty to make a man's heart beat faster. He'll do better finding a pretty Shavig maid."

Stala smiled and stepped away from the horse. "You make his heart beat faster, and five years is less than nothing to a man's soul. Come back."

The journey to Estian seemed longer than the one Tisala had taken here. Her hand ached in the morning and she was grateful Feather's soft mouth allowed her to use only one hand on the rein.

By evening they'd ridden by a small trading town and were in the lower hills that marked the barrier between Tallven and Shavig. They camped near a creek that night. To Tisala's relief, they'd left the snow behind in the mountains of Shavig.

The morning of the second day dawned without a sign of the king's men. Tisala tossed an icy handful of creek water over her face, hoping to wake up. While she was wiping her face, several horses cried out a warning—then it sounded as if every animal in the camp went mad.

Feather, she thought. Even if she hadn't seen Ward with his horses, the guards' attitude would have made it plain that Feather was precious to him. The last thing Tisala wanted to do was to explain how she'd let the mare get hurt.

She found Feather at her picket rolling her eyes at the other animals, though not unduly alarmed. The rest of the horses were kicking and fighting as if they were dragon-frighted. Feather'd broken out in a light sweat, but calmed at a few soft words.

The worst disaster averted, Tisala turned to see what had caused the fuss, expecting to see a bear or even one of the great mountain cats.

The blood rushed from her head and she swayed against the mare. Dragon-frighted, indeed. There in the midst of their half-packed tents and scrambling men stood a creature that could only be a dragon.

It was a huge and glittering creature in every shade of blue and violet she'd ever seen. The dark midnight blue on its extremities faded to violet-rose glinting with iridescence like a sea-pearl. The bony structures of its half-furled wings were black and shiny with faint patterns of gold that carried through on the lavender scaled membrane that made up the bulk of the wings. Light purple-blue eyes contrasted the irregular, dark blue scales of its face.

Tosten stood alone in front of it, his fists clenched as he shouted at it. As soon as Tisala realized that everyone else was fighting horses or scattered too far away to help him, she drew her sword, leaving Feather where she was tied. The dragon's attention was on Tosten, so Tisala advanced at a walk. It hadn't done anything yet and she didn't want to incite it.

She'd crossed half the distance between them when she heard what Tosten was saying.

" … not here!" Hot anger threaded his voice, though she hadn't misread the fear on his face. "No one is supposed to know! It's too dangerous: You know what Ward says. There are a hundred people here—someone will talk. Do you want to be hunted by a thousand want-to-be mages who are after your magic?"

Tisala stopped where she was. This was, it seemed, a private conversation for all that Tosten was shouting at the top of his lungs.

The dragon's head snaked forward with deadly swiftness and Tosten's hair parted from its breath. Ward's brother paled but held his ground.