Dragon Blood

"I'll ride out to meet you as soon as I find my horse," he said. "Which might take a while, thanks to you. Go away."

The dragon took an enormous breath and huffed it out, twisting its head and glancing at Tisala briefly. Then it heaved itself onto its hind legs and up into the air, vanishing over the edge of a ridge of mountain to the west.

Tosten turned to her with a look on his face that was almost pleading.

Before he said anything, Tisala answered that look. "Hurog means dragon." I've seen a dragon, she thought giddily.

"And when the rest of the world finds out we have one, they'll be camping at Hurog's doorstep waiting for a chance to kill him," said Tosten, ru

She nodded. "I'd pass out the word that Ward will be unhappy with anyone who tries to seriously pass around this tale if I were you. Not being a Shavigman myself, I never claim to see dragons."

Tosten smiled wearily, and she remembered he'd ridden twice as far as Lord Duraugh and his men.

The runaway horses were caught and rumors flew about what had spooked them. (From what Tisala heard, only a few people had actually seen the dragon—they, like she, had been trying to calm their mounts. Most of them had had significantly more trouble than she'd had.) The cold night with just a hint of frost ensured that everyone was gathered around the small fire where Lord Duraugh's cook was handing out bowls of warm mush.

Tosten cleared his throat and avoided his uncle's eye. "It surely was a strange windstorm we had this morning."

"Strange indeed," answered Duraugh solemnly.

Tisala could tell by the expression on his face that Tosten had not thought his uncle would say anything. Tosten had known about the dragon, thought Tisala, watching their faces, but his uncle and cousin hadn't until this morning. Hurog blue eyes met in a soundless argument, Tosten pleading for time. It occurred to Tisala that the dragon had had Hurog-blue eyes as well—just like Oreg, who'd gone to watch out for Ward.

"Frighted the horses but good," said Beckram. "I dare say that a storyteller would make up something about a great monster who scared the horses—but that might make it harder for us to get the Hurogmeten out of the Asylum. These lowlanders are greedy for things they don't understand; they might think that Ward had something to do with a mythical beast."

Tosten gave his cousin a grateful look.

Lord Duraugh glanced about at his own men. "I would be very unhappy if a rumor were to make it more difficult to free my nephew. Very unhappy." He sounded it, too.

"What windstorm?" said one of the Blue Guard, a man named Soren. "It was Bethem's snoring that startled the horses."

Bethem, whom Tisala knew as one of the best swordsmen in the Guard, spit on the ground. " 'Twas naught but your wife—she's scared the hides off braver animals than our horses."

"It was a giant sea turtle a hundred feet long, blowing flame from his nose," said another man. "Would have ate us all, but for Bethem's snoring. It thought he were another giant turtle, even larger and more ferocious, so the monster turned and fled back into the sea."

After a while the camp settled into a more normal atmosphere. The men cleaned their dishes and packed camp, saying nothing more about the incident, but there was a subtle, understated glee in their faces as they worked. Dragons, said each cheerful whistle, each blithe look, were a good thing for Hurogs.

Tisala finished her packing and walked to where Tosten was huddled with his uncle and cousin.

"We're ready to ride," she said.

Lord Duraugh looked at her, and with the air of a man ending an argument said, "I'll get them started. Tosten and Beckram have an errand to run, and I'd like you to go with them."

"But—" said Tosten.

"She already knows enough to ruin us if she wants to. If he came for the reason we all think he did, she might be able to help him. Now go, before he gets impatient and creates another incident."

Tosten and Beckram mounted without another word. Tosten set out away from camp at a trot, not looking to see if Beckram and Tisala were following him.

As soon as they were out of sight of the camp, Ward's wizard, Oreg, stepped out of the trees.

"I've bad news," he said.

Tisala looked into his eyes, which were purple-blue, just as Tosten and his uncle's were. Just as the dragon's had been. And her speculation solidified—somehow Oreg and the dragon were one.

"It must be important," said Beckram, sounding not at all like his normal self. His horse shifted uneasily, looking for whatever had disturbed its rider. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry," said Oreg, looking from Tosten to Beckram. This was not the reserved, somewhat intimidating man Tisala knew from Hurog. This man was shaken and worried—and was apologizing for appearing in the middle of the camp in the guise of a dragon.

Not a guise, she thought, remembering Tosten's reaction. Oreg was a dragon. A dragon who was supposed to be watching over Ward.

Tisala dismounted and gave a huff of disgust at the two Hurogs and the wizard. "Oreg, you have just shown me the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life, but if you don't tell us what happened to Ward, I'll kill you myself."

Oreg raised both hands from his sides and said simply, "I can't find him. He was there when I went to sleep last night, but when I tried to find him this morning, he was gone. Their camp was pulled up and their tracks lead to the city. I checked out the Asylum and the king's castle, but I couldn't find him. I can feel him but I don't know where he is. I always know where Ward is."

"The king had his wizards build a place in the Asylum to contain mages. Could something like that keep you from finding Ward?" asked Tisala.

Oreg stared at her for a moment. "It might."

"The king said he was taking Ward to the Asylum," she said. "We have no real reason to doubt that. When we get to Estian, I know people who can get me in so I can look for him."

"He's frightened," said Oreg, his eyes almost blank. "I can feel his fear. He doesn't scare easily."

"All the more reason to believe he's at the Asylum. We'll find him," she promised. She glanced at Tosten and Beckram. "Let's get going. The sooner we get to Estian, the sooner we get Ward."

"You all have the wrong idea," said Tisala to Tosten, who had taken up a post by her side for the day.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I am not now, nor ever will be Ward's woman." It was baldly put, but Tisala didn't know any other way to fight the assumptions that Ward's people were making. Riding Ward's mare was only adding to the problem.

"Hmm," replied Tosten gravely, though a faint smile tilted the corner of his mouth up. "You don't like my brother?"

She didn't know how to answer that without lying or giving the wrong impression, so she closed her calves against Feather's sides and the big mare increased her pace and left Tosten behind.

He waited the better part of an hour before approaching her again.

"I don't know how much you've heard about my father," he said when they were close enough for conversation. "But, being an Oranstonian, you've probably heard the worst of it. Ward, when he speaks of him, will tell you that he was mad. But I've always believed he was evil."

He stopped there and rode with her until she thought he'd said all he'd intended. At last he continued, "When I was a boy, we had a kitchen maid, the daughter of one of the stablemen, whom everyone was in love with. I was thirteen and thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. It was more than her face and form—though those were remarkable—it was … joy, I suppose is the right word, though happiness would work as well." Tosten gently dissuaded his gelding from snatching a bite of grass. "I don't think that she and Ward were lovers until the night my father tried to rape her."