Chapter Thirty

Hal wrote his intentions to Lord Cantabri, but before he had a reply a royal messenger fought his way through the deep new year snows with a summons to King Asir's court.

"Which will be for what?" Hal wondered.

"Why, you dummy, your honors for being a good little hero about to go into retirement," Khiri said. "And then you'll get them all taken away for not being a good little hero who's going into retirement.

"You dummy."

The messenger was very glad to make his return to Rozen in one of Khiri's carriages, his horse tied behind. For an instant Hal had wondered why they were taking two carriages. Khiri had sighed in exasperation.

"Because, dummy, if there's another person in the nice warm carriage, I can't do this to you."

She slipped to her knees, and reached for him.

And so they set out, with three carriages, which included Lady Khiri's entourage and road supplies, slowly making their way east from country inn to country inn, until they reached the outskirts of the capital.

"I suppose we can find somewhere to put up," Hal said. "Still being unpaid, I can borrow money from you."

"You'll not borrow money from anyone," Khiri said. "We'll be staying at Sir Thom's."

"Oh. You wrote him?"

"Shut up, hero dummy. I don't need to."

And so it proved.

They were lavishly welcomed by Lowess, and given a separate suite.

"Now this shall be a tale," he said. "The bravest warrior, in love with Deraine's loveliest lady.

"I can hear the sound of whimperings from those not so fortunate already."

And he licked his lips.

Hal made himself visit the King's Own Menagerie to tell Saslic's father of her death.

"My only daughter," the man said sadly. "Bound and determined to fly, and to fight. My wife's gone, and now Saslic is with her.

"It's a cold, lonely world, Sir Hal. I'm glad to be old, and not long for it, for it holds little warmth for me, beyond my beasts."

The short, fat man was all business. He introduced himself as one of King Asir's equerries.

"Since you've already been presented at court," he said, "I shan't have to inform you as to protocol.

"The king proposes to make you a lord."

Hal blinked.

"In addition to other matters which he'll inform you of personally. One of the reasons I'm here is to ask what title you'd prefer to have.

"Lord Kailas of Caerly, perhaps?"

Hal smiled tightly. He found no need to mention the money he sent his parents every time he was paid.

"No," he said. "I don't think I'll be returning there, ever. Caerly's a good place to be from. A long ways from."

The equerry forced a smile in acknowledgement. "What, then?"

Hal had only to think for a minute.

"Lord Kailas… of Kalabas."

"Oh dear," the equerry said, sounding shaken. "The king will not be pleased with that, I know. Kalabas is something I doubt if he wants to be reminded of. Many of his most loyal subjects, including Lord Hamil, died there."

"I had… friends who died there, as well," Hal said.

The equerry saw the look in Hal's eyes, nodded tightly, didn't pursue the matter.

"Matters such as your pension, other benefits, can wait until later."

"As long as I'm ruining your master's, the king's, day, let me complete the job," Hal said, and went on.

"Oh dear, oh dear, the king will definitely be unhappy," was all the equerry had to say.

King Asir named Hal Lord Kailas of Kalabas with barely a flicker, said, as he had when he ennobled Lord Cantabri, there would be other honors as well, requested Lord Kailas' presence in his private chambers.

Another equerry escorted Kailas down a long corridor, into a surprisingly simply furnished room.

The king was pouring a drink from a decanter.

"You, sir?"

"With all pleasure, Your Majesty."

"I think I said something, back when I knighted you, that Deraine needed new thinkers."

"You did, sire."

"Why are new thinkers generally such pains in the ass?"

Hal sipped at his drink, realized he would probably never have as fine a brandy in his life, didn't respond.

"What I had proposed for you was giving you some estates, so you wouldn't starve, a proper pension so you could sire sons or bastards, depending on your feelings, who'd become warriors of Deraine as well fitted as you.

"Plus medals, of course. Umm… Member, King's Household; Defender of the Throne; and Hero of Deraine.

"I also proposed sending you on a grand tour of my kingdom, with recruiting officers in your wake, scooping up all those starry-eyed sorts who'd want to be just like Lord Hal.

"Instead, I get… What? You don't want a nice, safe life. You want to go back to the damned front, where you'll be lucky to live a month.

"Do you have any idea of how long a dragon flier lives these days?"

Hal shook his head.

"Two, perhaps three months, at best."

Hal jolted, and King Asir nodded.

"It's not just those damned black dragons of theirs, but their tactics have changed. The Roche are now more interested in fighting than scouting, and when our fliers cross the lines, they're immediately attacked, generally outnumbered.

"At the moment, and I do not wish this repeated, we have less than no idea what Queen Norcia and her confidant, Duke Yasin, intend for the spring."

"And that's why I have to go back, sir," Hal said.

"What good will you do, other than becoming another martyr for Deraine?" Asir asked bitterly.

"I have an idea on how things might be changed, sire. Ky Yasin—that's the Duke's brother—"

"I know well who the bastard is," the king said.

"Yasin showed up over Kalabas not just with black dragons, but with them in strength. Instead of a flight, he had a full squadron, maybe four flights.

"Four against one, for that's how we were deployed… Well, those odds are deadly."

"They are," the king agreed.

"Some time ago, my old squadron was attacked on the ground by three flights, and nearly wiped out. I retaliated by striking back against those Roche, again and again, until we'd put the fear of the gods in them."

"I'm aware of the action," Asir said. "I do more than sit on my arse on this damned throne, you know."

"Yessir. I want command of my old flight… And can we get rid of the new name, and just call it the Eleventh?"

"We can." Asir had a bit of a smile on his lips.

"Build it up, until it's the size of Yasin's. Or bigger. And send us after those damned black dragons. If we hound them from pillar to post, never giving them a moment to strut about… Sir, I think we can start bending the odds back to where they should be."

Hal didn't speak his other thought—that if it was now fighting in the skies, perhaps one-on-one combat might be a momentary tactic, and other ways of fighting should be explored.

"Well," the king said. "You certainly don't go by halves, do you?

"You realize you're probably guaranteeing you'll get killed."

Hal thought of Saslic's words, shrugged.

"There's one thing I'm good at," Asir went on, "and that's judging men.

So I know if I forbid this action of yours, all you'll do is slip away from your estates and somehow end up in Sagene as another dragon flier, probably named Anonymous.

"So I have no other options.

"Very well, Lord Kailas. We'll do as you 'suggest,'" the king said, now with a broader smile. "Now, get out of my sight, you blackmailing bastard."

Hal put his glass down, saluted.

"Oh. One more thing," Asir said. "I've heard a certain term used, and now declare it an official title, you to be the first to hold it.

"Dragonmaster."

"What a tale this will make," Sir Thom Lowess whispered, unable to speak through excitement. "What a tale!"