Soar

Chapter 7

I was not eager to join the rest of Master Bennu's people for breakfast. Knowing Darriad would not be there, watching in his quiet way, made me uneasy. In the end, I grabbed some fruit and headed back to my wagon to eat it.

When I returned, I found a bird hopping along the ground in front of the dragon. The dragon watched its movements in silence, barely breathing. Hearing my approach, the bird turned its head to peer at me up its long black beak.

"There you are!"

Choking on a shriek, I whirled to find Tryven behind me, grinning.

He bent to collect the apple I had dropped and offered it to me. "I thought you saw me. Forgive me."

Wordlessly I took the apple and brushed it across my skirt to clean it. There were other people with Tryven. They had been talking to someone in a nearby wagon and now made their way over. The leader was a young man near my age. He walked with his head up and his shoulders back, and his considerable height added to his air of self-confidence. The two men behind him, with their light armor and blank expressions, were evidently his guards.

Tryven waved to the young man and said, "May I introduce Lord Darawn. And...." At that moment, he realized he did not know my name. Before he could ask, a shrill call from his bird distracted him.

The bird was perched on the dragon's head, preening herself.

"Hey!" Tryven shouted. "Sverrhu, leave him alone."

"Very quick to make friends, the pair of them," the dragon remarked, revealing a few teeth to show his displeasure. He gave his head a shake, upsetting the bird. With a squawk, she rejoined the boy.

"They said Bennu had a Shaderi girl this year," Lord Darawn said as if nothing had happened.

I glared at his self-assured manner. "Who would they be?"

He lifted one shoulder casually, unaffected by my lack of respect. "People like Tryven, mostly. Minstrels talk too much."

Tryven barked a laugh. "Hardly. All I do is repeat what I hear. It is the nobles who do most of the talking."

One guard turned his head to hide the twitch at a corner of his mouth.

When Darawn responded, he studiously ignored his guard. "You'll spout anything you hear, no matter how absurd. The talent," and he glanced at me, lifting an eyebrow, "would be hearing and not repeating."

Tryven's grin widened. "I'm no good with secrets." His bird twittered, as if sharing in some private joke, and he stroked her silver chest.

"What was that he said last week, my lord?" one of the guards asked, stepping forward with a clank of his sword. "About dragons?"

"Ah, yes." The nobleman raised a finger, wagging it at me. I stared back, unnerved by his attention. "This boy picked up some drunken ramblings about dragons."

Not sure if I ought to laugh, I glanced pointedly at the dragon behind me, who was slapping the ground with his tail. He grunted at the young lord's words.

"Real dragons," Lord Darawn amended. "Flying dragons."

"In the west," Tryven added. "Where most stories say they went after the war."

I could only nod as I looked between them.

Thoughtfully pursing his lips, Lord Darawn lifted his chin toward the dragon. "He looks like he might be able to fly."

"I wouldn't get too close," I warned as the men made to move closer. "He is not fond of strangers. And he was never taught to fly."

To my surprise, the nobleman obediently kept his distance. "He seems larger than last year."