Dragon's-Eye View Page 7

  There, in the dark, upon a mattress of down and feathers that was unlike anything Tyber had ever slept upon, he laid on his back and stared at the bunk above him. Now and then it creaked as Ren tossed and turned. He tried not to think of his siblings on the floor of the cottage, their bellies barely satisfied with the remains of the beet porridge and the stale bread that was meant to last them until his father got paid.

  At least there had been more to eat at home that night without Tyber there to consume his share. It was a small consolation, but it stayed with him through the night as he laid awake and listened to the overwhelming silence of a room full of young men trying not to hear a homesick boy’s soft sobs.

  The following morning, the recruits were fed a breakfast that was adequate but not as lavish as dinner had been. Afterward, weyrboys escorted them back to the auditorium. Tyber, Ren, and Fang took the same seats they had the previous day. Soon, an old man shuffled out from the door at the back of the stage. He carried a leather-bound ledger tucked beneath his arm, and when he finally reached the lectern, he placed the ledger before him with trembling hands and swollen knuckles. Stooped and wrinkled, he looked up and squinted into the light of the windows behind his audience.

  “Good morning,” the man said, his voice surprisingly clear and loud.

  A few of the young men repeated his greeting.

  “What was that? I’m old, you know.”

  “Good morning,” the boys repeated, louder this time.

  “Yes. That’s what I said. I am Gury, Dragon Master of Cadwaller. It is my duty to teach the lot of you dragon lore and physiology. Let’s not waste any more time, shall we?”

  Gury placed a claw-like hand before his pale lips and cleared his throat. “In the beginning, there were the gods above.” He lifted a crooked finger to the high ceiling. “The sky was their domain, and their domain was all that there was. The gods grew restless, however. Timelessness is long, you know.”

  The old man shrugged and cleared his throat again, then continued after a sigh. “The gods grew bored. So they created the world and a creature to live in it. And for a while they were satisfied. But then the creature grew restless and bored as well. So the gods made more creatures. And, of course, they grew bored, too. I’m sure you’ve heard all of this before, right? Accelerated training means accelerated stories. Moving on.”

  Tyber arched an eyebrow at Ren who could barely contain a grin.

  Gury paused. His shoulders heaved slightly as if the story was a challenge, a physical exertion for him to tell.

  “So the gods gave the creatures the ability to learn, and they crafted stories and passed on lessons and knowledge to their offspring. Soon the offspring were more educated than the first of the creatures. Then the offspring, as you might have guessed, grew restless and bored. It is easy to grow restless and bored, is it not?”

  Gury cleared his throat and in a loud booming voice thundered, “Then the bored offspring turned on their gods!” He banged his fist on the lectern.

  Several of the recruits jumped in their seats. Tyber spared a glance at Ren to see how he was reacting to the tale. Ren snorted behind his hand, trying not to laugh out loud. It was a common tale told by parents to their children in one form or another, but it was the first time Tyber had heard this version.

  Gury continued. “For the first time in their timeless existence, the gods were challenged. They didn’t like it much. So, lightning rained upon the world. Lightning like none that had ever been seen before, although I’m not sure how we know that. Anyway, it shattered the world. The great palaces of the creatures were reduced to mountains of rubble.”

  The Master swept his hand out to the west, where the Cadwaller mountain range formed the border of the kingdom.

  “The lightning split the creatures. Cleaved them into two. Human and dragon. Yes. Believe it.”

  The old man eyed the audience again.

  “In humans, we have the passion, greed and humor, the feelings of these original creatures,” the old man said and shook a loose fist at the recruits. “We are the creators of art and war. We are the masters of sport and lust. We are slaves to our emotions. That is bad, of course.”

  He paused again, motioned to a weyrboy to bring him a drink, then continued.

  “But the dragons received the wisdom of the original creatures. Their grace and their strength. They are beings of peace and resolve. Obedient. Mindful. Terrifyingly strong, yet lacking the passion and drive that cause kingdoms to collide and men to scheme.”

  Gury paused. His shoulders rose and fell as if he was catching his breath while he surveyed his audience. The weyrboy returned and handed Gury a mug. The old man took a swallow while scanning the recruits. He placed the mug on the lectern, then asked, “Are we ready for more?”

  Several of the recruits shouted yes. Tyber looked around and was surprised to see many of his classmates leaning forward, hanging on Gury’s words. The old man knew how to tell a story, Tyber would give him that even if he wasn’t sure he believed the story being told.

  “In that way,” Gury went on, his voice quiet now, “we are bound. Humans and dragons. We are each a part of the whole. And when a young man is properly trained, we can create a unit that approaches the greatness of the creatures that once were.”

  The old man’s voice rose. “Master of land and sky! Passionate and wise. Terrifying yet restrained with grace. That is the challenge that will be put before the lot of you!”

  The auditorium was hushed as if the recruits were afraid to move. Tyber was surprised to realize that he had been holding his breath. Even Ren seemed to be under the Dragon Master’s spell.

  Gury looked back out across the crowd and continued in a measured tone as if reciting from a script. “Those of you who prove yourselves worthy of the wisdom of dragons will be schooled in a variety of subjects. I, myself, will teach history, and some of you might rightly think that it was because I was there to witness it first hand. You are correct in that I have seen more than most of you ever will. I will also teach the basics of dragon care and healing. You will receive training in archery from Master Kemp. Master Vark will teach swordsmanship. Master Luremptor will drill you in the procedures and the fulfillment of the expectations that the King will place upon his hordesmen,” he paused and looked out to a hand raised in the near the middle of the auditorium. “Yes, what is it? State your name.”

  A young man stood and straightened the hem of his tunic. His uniform and butchered hair made it difficult to recognize whether or not he had been seated in the same space the day before. His posture was such that he still wore the brightly colored silks advertising his family’s wealth and status, even when dressed in the tunic of a recruit.

  “I am Padrus. Is it true that there is a woman in the west who has become a dragoneer?”

  Gury audibly sighed. He leaned forward slightly, and his fingers wrapped around the edges of the lectern.

  Tyber leaned forward as well, as hushed whispers sprang up among the young men.

  “As far as I know,” Gury intoned, “there are no female dragoneers in the Western Kingdom.”

  “No, not the Western Kingdom,” Padrus said, shaking his head. “I heard she commands a weyr in Cadwaller. Aerona, it is called.”

  The grip on the lectern tightened slightly. The color blanched from Gury’s bulbous knuckles.

  “Sit down, Padrus.”

  Padrus stood a moment more. His posture shifted as if preparing to make an issue of the matter, then he sat. The whispered words of the recruits grew like a fire starting to lap at kindling.

  Tyber looked to Ren. “Have you heard of her?” Tyber asked.

  Ren raised his eyebrows but did not take his eyes from Gury. “A woman bonded to an alpha?” He shook his head and pursed his lips lightly. “Can’t be. Women can’t ride dragons. They’re too emotionally fragile. My father said so.”

  Tyber leaned away from Ren, slightly disappointed. Theola could quickly teach him that she wasn’t a bit fra
gile.

  “I wish I could get facts and education to travel at the speed of rumor,” Gury finally said. He looked back and forth across the audience. His stooped back straightened a slight bit. “The truth of the matter is that we are not the creatures that received the wisdom from the gods. You will learn that it is not we who choose the dragons, but they who choose us. If a dragon should decide to bond with a woman, then we are not to question that wisdom.”

  The whispering in the auditorium grew to a rolling murmur. Someone called out and asked if there would be female recruits.

  Tyber gripped the edge of the bench. Might he trade places with Theola? She would be thrilled with that change.

  “Moving on,” Gury called out.

  The murmur of the crowd continued to grow. Someone snapped that the thought of female recruits was ridiculous. The dumbest thing ever heard.

  Gury snatched up his ledger, lifted it several inches, then dropped it back to the lectern with a clap that echoed across the auditorium.

  The murmuring quickly died away.

  “Moving along,” Gury simply said. “Your individual proctors will be responsible for your flight training. Two proctors each serve beneath a single dragoneer, but you are not to concern yourselves with the dragoneer at any point. If you have a question, a problem, a joke in poor taste to share, or a comment on the weather, you will direct it at the proctor only. I wish to emphasize that the dragoneer cannot be bothered with the likes of you. Now, are there any pertinent questions?”

  Several recruits looked in Padrus’ direction.

  “Very well,” Gury said. “Before I dismiss you to the weyr, I wish to reiterate something from my brief lecture. Dragons and humans are split from the same creatures. We are more than cousins, more than siblings. We are each half of the same heart. If you wish to survive the first trial, then you must open yourself up to your dragon. You must recognize that she is the other half of your heart, and you cannot hide anything from her. Loyalty is what bonds two hearts. It is what bonds a dragon and her rider. If you cannot be open with your dragon when she looks upon you, you will not achieve the bond needed to pass the first trial.”

  The Dragon Master surveyed the auditorium again as Tyber sank lower in his seat. As the old man’s gaze passed over his section, Tyber expected the weyrboys to emerge from the shadows, surround him, and lead him out under the glare of Ander. He would be shown the stones of Dragon Lane and rejected as a fraud.

  But what did it matter, really? Gury’s gaze, squinting as if he couldn’t see, yet piercing in an unsettling way, passed on to the other benches. Tyber sat up and glanced at Ren, who smirked.

  Tyber was a fraud. And that was all right. He was here because he had to be. What did it matter if he was found out and shown off the grounds? He was here to meet Ander’s conditions and collect the bonus.

  He was not here to bond with any dragon.

  Chapter 12

  After Gury’s lecture, the weyrboys escorted the recruits into the courtyard. Tyber studied the weyrboys closest to him. They were strange, striding along in red-robed silence, their steps in perfect unison despite their differing heights.Tyber looked at Ren and tried to imagine him as one of the monkish boys. He couldn’t.

  The weyrboys stopped before a set of double doors opposite the auditorium. Each door bore a plaque of a metal dragon, one foreclaw raised, wings spread, and tail sweeping up toward its head. Delicate scrollwork decorated each of the dragons standing watch. Two of the weyrboys at the front pulled back the latches and pushed the doors open into what was unmistakably the weyr. Wide, flat stones paved the floor and formed a broad aisle that stretched from the courtyard entrance to an even wider set of double doors suspended on a track above the main entrance. The main entrance overlooked the yard and the start of Dragon Lane.

  Stalls lined either side of the aisle. Every time Tyber tried to count the number of them, his eyes caught on the dragons themselves. They were a variety of colors, some even multiple colors, such as a white dragon whose scales were edged in a fiery red. His eyes sought the blue dragon he had seen the day before that reminded him of Theola’s eyes. A fine chain hung around the dragon’s neck. Suspended on the chain was a lock of braided black hair twisted into a ring. Tyber’s hair.

  The dragon stared intently at him with her black eyes that matched the black edges or her scales.

  Tyber’s fingers brushed over the stubble on his head.

  The recruits broke up into their individual wings and gathered around their assigned proctors. The proctors stood scattered around the weyr, each before a set of dragons. The blue and black dragon watched them from the edge of a group behind Ander.

  “We get our dragons already?” a boy named Weiss asked.

  Ander shook his head. “They are the King’s dragons. Never forget that. Every one of these beautiful beasts is the property of King Cadwaller.”

  Tyber’s jaw tightened at the thought that the King should own all of these dragons for no reason other than he was a king. It hardly seemed fair for anyone to own them. If Gury were to be believed, the dragons chose to belong to the King, but Tyber doubted that.

  “We are doing things a little differently this year,” Ander went on. “These dragons are being pressed into service at a young age. They’re a bit green. Greener than we usually like to start training them, but it is necessary. And as such, it is important that we begin imprinting them upon their riders sooner.”

  “Why?” Weiss asked.

  Ander smiled at Weiss. “Because it is their way. Usually, older dragons train the young ones for us, but these ones will not receive the benefit of such training. I’m afraid that for the good of the kingdom, we must all learn together. We believe that imprinting the dragons upon their riders sooner will make it easier for both dragon and recruit to learn.”

  Weiss nodded as if he understood and agreed. Tyber noted that without his hair, Weiss’ cheeks looked a bit plumper than they had the day before.

  “So,” Ander said, “you have probably noticed that the dragons are wearing locks of hair around their necks. They are being conditioned to recognize your scent. We are letting them know that you will be a continued presence in their lives. Dragons have a remarkable sense of smell, and though they will know their riders by many things, it is your scent that is foremost in their idea of you. Step up to the dragon that bears the lock of your own hair and introduce yourself.”

  Many of the boys clambered forward to find the dragon bearing their hair. Even Ren took swift steps to a teal-colored dragon wearing a lock of his chestnut-colored hair.

  Tyber milled around the edge of the crowd and took his time approaching the blue dragon. She watched him over the heads of the others. She wasn’t nearly as large as he had imagined dragons to be or as large as Listico, the only dragon Tyber had ever been near until now. As if he sensed that Tyber was thinking of him and his dragon, Ander slapped Tyber on the back of the shoulder and pointed at the blue dragon. “She’s yours,” he said. “I’m surprised with your dark hair that you should have any doubt. And now that I think about it, she’s kind of the color of your eyes, isn’t she?”

  Tyber’s breath halted in his chest. His eyes were the same as Theola’s but he hadn’t thought of that until now. His feet suddenly grew too heavy to move.

  “Go on,” Ander said, giving Tyber a shove forward. “Don’t be afraid. She won’t bite. At least not you. Her name is Rius. Go up and introduce yourself. Show her that you are meant to be here, that you have every right to step up to her. Look her in the eye. That’s the most important bit.”

  Ander turned away to address the recruits in his group. “Be sure to look your dragon in the eye. Each of you. Show her your confidence. Show her your awe. Let her see that you are impressed with her. She is a dragon. You should wild-well be impressed!”

  Tyber stepped up to the gate of Rius’ stall but kept his eyes locked on the braid of hair hanging from her neck. His hair had been shorn from his head in great swipes of th
e weyrboy’s shears. After they whisked the baskets from the room, someone had braided his hair just to decorate a dragon.

  He felt as if a part of him had been taken, as if he’d been tricked out of something that belonged to him and here it was, around the dragon’s neck. He took a deep breath. It was silly to feel that way. What did he care? It was hair. It would grow back. In fact, he might keep it short. Get Theola to cut it for him. She’d do a much better job than the weyrboys, and it was certainly cooler in the heat of the afternoon.

  Rius shuffled her weight in the stall. Her wings flexed slightly, opening a bit. Tyber’s eyes widened at the sight of the blue flesh of her wings, nearly iridescent in the light. At the trailing ends of her wings, the blue faded into folds of black, and there, among the cloud of black shone a handful of white dots. Dots as bright and brilliant as the eyes of the gods above.

  He clenched his eyes shut. His shoulders and back tightened as if to close himself off completely, wrap himself up with all the muscle and flesh he had.

  The dragon would know. She would be able to see why he was there. The idea caused a thick, cold terror that he hadn’t expected.

  He couldn’t allow her to bond with him. He struggled to take care of his siblings. The last thing he needed was a young dragon imprinted upon him before he could get tossed from the academy. She deserved so much better than him.

  But why did he care?

  A rush of hot air blew past his face.

  Tyber tensed. Was the dragon about to set him on fire? Light him like a bundle of kindling for being a lying cheat? He deserved it.

  Something warm and damp struck him on his forehead.

  Tyber peered out from between his clenched eyelids.

  Rius’ muzzle hovered inches from his face. Her nostrils flared as air rushed in. She lifted her muzzle to his brow, then his hair.

  “She’s a good match for you,” Ander said.

  Tyber jumped and glanced back as if Ander had once again caught him red-handed at something.