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Book: Dragonlance 08 - Dragons of the Highlord Skies by Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman
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Authors: Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman
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ensorcelled during the night. She must suspect nothing. As for the cut on her wrist, warriors were always cutting themselves on their armor or their weapons. She would think nothing of such a small mark.
Kit wrapped her arms around the pillow, and murmuring a word that sounded like “tanning,” she sighed, smiled, and drifted back to sleep. Iolanthe couldn’t imagine why Kit would be dreaming about tanning leather hides, but one never knew. Tucking the lock of hair in a velvet bag, Iolanthe tied the bag to her belt and left Kit’s bedside.
The snail-slime trail of silver gleamed faintly on the wall, marking the exit. Iolanthe walked through the silver doorway and stepped into the curtained alcove of her own home, her night’s work a success.
4
A Dragon and his rider.
itiara’s mount, a blue dragon named Skie, waited for her in a secret location outside of the city. Stalls for dragons were provided near each of the military quarters of the Highlords in Neraka, but just as Kitiara preferred to stay in an inn rather than the cramped quarters of military housing, Skie liked his privacy and comfort too well to live in the crowded conditions of the dragon stables. He did pay his fellow dragons a visit, however, and he was ready with the latest gossip and news of dragonkind for Kitiara when she arrived.
The blue dragon had spent a comfortable evening. He’d gone out hunting that morning and brought down a fat deer. After dining, he’d found a patch of autumn sunlight, and lying down, he extended his blue wings. Resting his head on the warm rocks, he basked in the warmth. When Kitiara arrived, he roused himself, shaking his head with its blue mane and flicking his long scaly tail.
The greeting between Highlord and dragon was warm. Skie was the only being Kitiara truly trusted and the dragon was devoted to his rider, something rare for dragons, who generally disdained all lower forms of life. Skie admired Kitiara’s courage and her cool-headed skill in battle, and thus he was willing to overlook her defects, putting them down to the fact that she had been born, lamentably, a human.
“What a dragon she would have made!” Skie often commented regretfully.
Kitiara patted the blue’s long scaled neck with her hand and asked if he had eaten. Skie indicated the remains of a deer carcass nearby. Few other human riders ever bothered to check on the welfare of their dragons, but Kitiara never forgot. She nodded and then, instead of mounting, as he expected, she stood by his side, her hand resting on his neck, staring at her boots.
Skie saw at once that something was wrong.
“What did the emperor think of your plan to attack the High Clerist’s Tower?” Skie asked.
Kitiara sighed. “He thinks it is too reckless, too risky, so he did not approve it. That is true, I suppose, but to my mind we risk far more by curling up all snug and complacent in our dens.”
“The man is a fool,” Skie remarked.
“No, if Ariakas were a fool, I would not mind so much,” said Kitiara somberly. “He is a brilliant commander. Witness the fact that his armies control almost all of Ansalon. But those very victories will be his downfall. Back at the start of the war, when he had nothing to lose, he would have taken my advice and attacked the High Clerist’s Tower. Since then, he has grown too fond of victory. He is afraid of defeat so he bets only on the sure thing. Hazarding little, he wonders why his winnings decrease.”
Skie shook his head. His belly rumbled. He’d eaten too fast and the deer wasn’t sitting well.
“Did you visit the dragon mews?” Kitiara asked. “What news did you hear?”
“As you say, the emperor’s war is going well,” Skie returned in grudging tones. “The Black Dragon Highlord, Lucien of Takar, has strengthened his hold on the eastern lands, putting down minor uprisings and rebellions, though his greatest achievement appears to have been forcing those lay-about slugs of black dragons to crawl out
Kit wrapped her arms around the pillow, and murmuring a word that sounded like “tanning,” she sighed, smiled, and drifted back to sleep. Iolanthe couldn’t imagine why Kit would be dreaming about tanning leather hides, but one never knew. Tucking the lock of hair in a velvet bag, Iolanthe tied the bag to her belt and left Kit’s bedside.
The snail-slime trail of silver gleamed faintly on the wall, marking the exit. Iolanthe walked through the silver doorway and stepped into the curtained alcove of her own home, her night’s work a success.
4
A Dragon and his rider.
itiara’s mount, a blue dragon named Skie, waited for her in a secret location outside of the city. Stalls for dragons were provided near each of the military quarters of the Highlords in Neraka, but just as Kitiara preferred to stay in an inn rather than the cramped quarters of military housing, Skie liked his privacy and comfort too well to live in the crowded conditions of the dragon stables. He did pay his fellow dragons a visit, however, and he was ready with the latest gossip and news of dragonkind for Kitiara when she arrived.
The blue dragon had spent a comfortable evening. He’d gone out hunting that morning and brought down a fat deer. After dining, he’d found a patch of autumn sunlight, and lying down, he extended his blue wings. Resting his head on the warm rocks, he basked in the warmth. When Kitiara arrived, he roused himself, shaking his head with its blue mane and flicking his long scaly tail.
The greeting between Highlord and dragon was warm. Skie was the only being Kitiara truly trusted and the dragon was devoted to his rider, something rare for dragons, who generally disdained all lower forms of life. Skie admired Kitiara’s courage and her cool-headed skill in battle, and thus he was willing to overlook her defects, putting them down to the fact that she had been born, lamentably, a human.
“What a dragon she would have made!” Skie often commented regretfully.
Kitiara patted the blue’s long scaled neck with her hand and asked if he had eaten. Skie indicated the remains of a deer carcass nearby. Few other human riders ever bothered to check on the welfare of their dragons, but Kitiara never forgot. She nodded and then, instead of mounting, as he expected, she stood by his side, her hand resting on his neck, staring at her boots.
Skie saw at once that something was wrong.
“What did the emperor think of your plan to attack the High Clerist’s Tower?” Skie asked.
Kitiara sighed. “He thinks it is too reckless, too risky, so he did not approve it. That is true, I suppose, but to my mind we risk far more by curling up all snug and complacent in our dens.”
“The man is a fool,” Skie remarked.
“No, if Ariakas were a fool, I would not mind so much,” said Kitiara somberly. “He is a brilliant commander. Witness the fact that his armies control almost all of Ansalon. But those very victories will be his downfall. Back at the start of the war, when he had nothing to lose, he would have taken my advice and attacked the High Clerist’s Tower. Since then, he has grown too fond of victory. He is afraid of defeat so he bets only on the sure thing. Hazarding little, he wonders why his winnings decrease.”
Skie shook his head. His belly rumbled. He’d eaten too fast and the deer wasn’t sitting well.
“Did you visit the dragon mews?” Kitiara asked. “What news did you hear?”
“As you say, the emperor’s war is going well,” Skie returned in grudging tones. “The Black Dragon Highlord, Lucien of Takar, has strengthened his hold on the eastern lands, putting down minor uprisings and rebellions, though his greatest achievement appears to have been forcing those lay-about slugs of black dragons to crawl out
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