They're as bad as the Elvenlords, Keman thought, not for the first time.
For now they were relying on the things that had once been stockpiled in the Citadel; they hadn't been able to carry those things away with them, but the Citadel had somehow remained unpenetrated—or at least, no one had bothered to loot it or destroy what was in it. Shana had teams of the younger wizards working together to transport everything possible out of there and into the hands of those who actually owned the things or into the storage-rooms of their new home. Some things were in surplus—anything that didn't get used up or suffer much from
wear and tear. Nevertheless, they had more—many more— bodies to clothe and mouths to feed than they'd had back when only halfblooded Wizards lived in the old Citadel.
But if they could set up a trading-agreement with a real El-ven estate ... well, then their transportation magics could be used to swap hides and meat, raw lumber, even the gems and precious metals that were so easy for the dragons to coax up out of the earth, for most of those things that they now depended on the Traders and Iron People for.
Don't depend on that egg to hatch just yet, Keman, he warned himself. Report to Shana first. It's more important to get to the point where we 've got an agreement with this Kyrtian that will prevent him and the army from coming after us!
Their relief party arrived just then, two stripling humans that had been recruited from the ranks of the gladiators and looked it—muscled everywhere, including between their ears. They presented themselves with the proper password, and he and Dora gratefully surrendered their arms to the new sentries and plodded down the hill to their own campsite. They had managed to make themselves unpopular, not by unpleasant behavior, but simply by being unfriendly and taciturn. No one disliked them, but no one wanted to associate with them either. Humans, in Keman's experience, when away from their familiar surroundings, needed to socialize. When any particular human offered a cold shoulder, he was generally shut out tacitly.
So Keman and Dora had a little fire to themselves; they undertook their duties in silence, and now they collected their rations from the common camp-kitchen without comment beyond a grunt or a nod. They brought their food back to their camp, and to all appearances settled down to their belated dinners.
Ah, but beneath the surface, thoughts were flying between them. They were, in fact, mostly finished with that rather meager (by draconic standards) meal, before the exchanges got beyond incredulous :Can you believe what he said?: and similar exclamations of astonishment.
:How soon tonight do you think Shana will try and make contact with us?: Dora asked at last. :We have to tell her about
this! If we can somehow get this Kyrtian on our side, it will make all the difference!:
Keman's face showed no expression, but there was nothing but glee in his thoughts. :It's what we've needed all along, really—what Shana has needed—: he amended.
:Oh, we dragons have thrown our lot in with the Wizards now, no matter what some of us think,: Dora said cheerfully. :It's what we need, an ally and a person inside the ranks of the Elvenlords.:
Keman thought a chuckle. :It wouldn 't hurt the Trader clans to discover they've got some competition, either.: He was beginning to resent the casual way in which the Traders had assumed that the Wizards were totally at their mercy now when it came to things that the Wizards couldn't produce. His persistent fear was that the Traders would learn that the Iron Folk most valued and needed the metal that gave them their name, and would find a way to supply it in quantity, thereby giving the Iron People no reason to continue their alliance with the Wizards. That could be a disaster; without the Iron People, the Wizards didn't have a lot of fighting-types if it came to real combat.
:But if we can get this new commander on our side, we won't need any fighters!: Dora reminded him excitedly.
:I wouldn't want to abandon the alliance, though,: he replied with caution, as he took her tin plate and his own, and scraped coals into both of them to burn off the remains of their stew— the most common way any of these humans here cleaned their dishes when they were done with them. Even the cooks cleaned their great pots this way sometimes. Especially lately, with Kyrtian moving the army from dawn to just before dark, chasing the Young Lords' army.
:Well, do you think you've sufficiently calmed down enough to help me reach Shana?: he teased, as he sat down across the fire from her.
Her reply was not translatable, but was rude. He almost cracked his disguise with a grin, then they settled into their task—looking from the outside as if they were two middle-aged, weary men dozing by their fire.
Shana had hardly been able to believe what Keman told her; in fact, the moment he'd told her what Lord Kyrtian was plotting with his aunt Morthena, she'd asked him to wait for a moment. Then, her blood singing with excitement, she ran to get Lorryn so that he could hear and verify it before it actually sank in as truth.
She pounded down the rough stone corridors, red hair streaming behind her, from her chambers to the common-room, where he was sitting with Zed and one or two others, practicing working in concert and using gemstones to focus and amplify their powers. These were the skills that the younger wizards had developed that enabled them to do so much more than their elders—abilities which Caellach Gwain and his cronies resented without actually troubling themselves to learn.
"Keman has some news," she said breathlessly, as the little group looked up with some surprise at her hasty entrance. "I'd like to hear what you think about it, if you can spare the time, Lorryn."
"Certainly; we were just about finished anyway." Lorryn stood up, and handed the basket-full of baby chicks he'd been cradling in his lap to Zed with a grin. "I never thought that I'd find myself purloining chickens with magic when I ran off to join the Wizards!"
"Hah. Can you think of any better way to practice the 'safe' transportation spell?" Zed countered, with his own wide grin splitting his tanned and swarthy face. "If you flatten a chick or two, it's no great loss."
"But they're so—well, cute—I'd feel guilty," Lorryn protested, looking down at the yellow balls of fluff while they cheeped sleepily.
Zed only grinned wider. "All the more incentive, then," he pointed out.
"Let's take a walk," Shana suggested—a good excuse to get away from the others. She didn't want to raise hopes that might be crushed; Lorryn could be trusted to consider all possible outcomes and not just the most desired. Together they could discuss possibilities—grim as well as hopeful.
Which is just another reason why I'm glad he's with me. She'd fallen into the habit of considering him as a partner so quickly it was almost as magical as any spell. How not? She knew she could depend on him to do something when she asked him to, but even more importantly, she knew she could depend on him to do something he saw needed doing even if she didn't ask.
After a quick walk up to one of the concealed exits on the top of the hill covering their cave-complex, the two of them were out under the stars. It wasn't likely that they'd be overheard, but Shana related what Keman had told her mind-to-mind anyway. Just because something wasn't likely that was no reason to assume it wouldn't happen.
And the Old Whiners are just as like to set someone to spy on us as not, she thought resentfully. The fat would be in the fire if they even thought that I was going to open negotiations with an Elvenlord!
:Ancestors!: Lorryn exclaimed, .-This is fantastic news! I would never, ever have anticipated this!:
While Shana went to get Lorryn, Keman had been waiting patiently; now she sat down on a rock and concentrated on the focus-stone in her hand, contacting him once again.
:I have Lorryn,: she told him, opening her thoughts slightly so that Lorryn could sense what Keman was telling her. :Can you go through all that again for both of us?:
Keman was only too willing to; Shana sensed both Lorryn's growing excitement and that of Dora behind Keman's carefully controlled thoughts. But Lorryn sobered immediately after the first burst of incredulous enthusiasm, and didn't interrupt anymore while Keman concluded his report to Shana. It was difficult enough for them to maintain contact at such extreme distance, and Shana appreciated that he kept his own thoughts quiet while she and her foster-brother finished their business.
But Keman had an idea of his own for their situation, that he voiced before they broke off contact.:Shana, why don't you ask Mother and Kalamadea to find iron for you ? Oh, I know it interferes too much even with our magic for them to bring it to the surface, but surely they can find it, and once it's been found, you can work out how to mine it. Surely the Iron People know how!:
.7 can ask,: she replied.
:Good! The more claws we have sharpened, the better,: was his final reply.
"That's not a bad thought," Shana said aloud, as a mental silence filled the place where Keman's word-thoughts had been. She headed back down into the caverns, with Lorryn following beside her. "But I thought the dragons didn't much like being around iron—"
"They don't," Lorryn agreed, "But Father Dragon and your foster-mother Alara are likely to agree to do just about anything within reason that you ask them to, don't you think?"
"Hmm. Somehow I can't believe that it's going to be that easy," Shana told him, skeptically. "Still, there's no harm in asking."
"And no time like the present," Lorryn agreed. She was not at all displeased when he took her hand and squeezed it encouragingly, then didn't bother to let it go as they descended once again into the Citadel corridors.
And when they found the two dragons who (next to Keman) had most closely aligned themselves with the Wizards, she put the question to them.
They had made themselves real lairs here, which was no great difficulty for a dragon, a creature who could shape rock and earth to its will. The two of them were in Alara's lair, reclining in their natural forms in smooth hollows filled with the soft sand that dragons preferred to rest in. Father Dragon— Kalamadea by actual name—was not at his full size in here, for dragons never really stopped growing as long as they lived, and Father Dragon was very, very old and his size was immense. He would hardly have fit in one of Alara's hollows if he hadn't shifted part of his bulk into the Out first.
Even so, both of them were huge, dwarfing the two half-bloods next to them. Alara's scarlet-scaled torso could have served as a hut if it were hollow.
"I thought what you needed were gemstones and precious metals to trade with," Alara responded to Shana's question, her bobbing head indicating her confusion. "That's what we've all been looking for. That's what you asked us to find."