"Are you actually supporting him?" Laynin asked. She lowered herself into a chair, careful not to disturb the baby sleeping in the sling on her chest. Once settled comfortably, she looked up at at Ara, eyes searching for some clarity. She had tried to keep her tone neutral, but it was laced with her dislike of Sandvaal.
"It seems like the course which is the least likely to result in another war," Ara replied evenly. She folded her hands in front of her and lay them in her lap. "What would you have me do? Dargyn is tired of fighting. We all need to recover from it and do what we can to prevent it from happening again."
"By doing nothing." Laynin sighed.
"I've seen his plans. There is little more to be done. While we burned and mourned the dead, he put people in place to ensure his success."
"He's taken full advantage of the situation."
"Some would say he has vision."
Laynin's brow wrinkled. "It sounds as though you admire him."
Ara unfolded and re-folded her hands, the only sign of her discomfort. "No one wants another war. If this is the price we have to pay, then we will pay it."
"Magin in prison?" Laynin challenged. "That doesn't sound like freedom, or a fair price for innocent people."
The draakin leader looked toward the window. "I hate to think of any person suffering so others can be free, but again, what would you have me do?"
"Tell Sandvaal to let them go?" Laynin suggested.
Ara snorted. "He wouldn't listen to me. Or you, or else you wouldn't be here."
Laynin started to reply, but stopped and composed herself. "I didn't come here to argue with you. I wanted to get back to work. I know the healers are busy tending to the wounded, but some are starting to return home. Perhaps Risper and I could fly some of them. Or… something. Anything to be useful."
"So many wounded," Ara said softly. "Some may be capable of sitting on a dragon. Others though…" She shook her head and looked regretful. "Sometimes I wish—"
"Wish what?" Laynin prompted gently.
Ara licked her lips. "So many things. "If I'd pursued Rosharias sixteen years ago, this wouldn't be happening. If I hadn't allowed the kings to set up camp in Tsaisa, things might be very different."
"That's true," Laynin said softly. "There would be blood soaking different fields. And the war would still be going. Without us—"
"That's another point," Ara interrupted. "If the draakin had been involved earlier, so many people would still be alive."
Laynin blinked, surprised by this admission. "You wish you hadn't held us back?"
Ara's lips moved. "I," she said eventually, "I can't help but wonder how much would have changed if I hadn't. The kings would still be alive."
"That's not a given," Laynin said dryly.
"Perhaps not, but it's a reasonably safe bet."
"Sandvaal would have found a way." Laynin looked down at Rhyen, his face all the more innocent in sleep. Would he inherit his father's ruthlessness? She hoped not. She'd do all she could to raise him to be kind and gentle. More like Travin than Sandvaal. The bard occupied a good deal of her thoughts these days.
"Yes he would. I'm not sure we would have won without him," Ara said softly.
Laynin's face jerked upward.
"Think about it," Ara continued, eyes glazed. "Would King Drexin have asked us to send the dragons to war? Or King Percier? Both of them would have wanted to seek a diplomatic solution before they involved us. In the meantime, Rosharias would have insisted they surrender or die. We needed someone as ruthless as Rosharias."
"You might have volunteered, or insisted," Laynin suggested.
"Possibly," Ara replied, but her expression said otherwise.
"If war broke out again, would you hesitate next time?"
"Honestly Laynin, I don't know. As much as I regret not acting, it was the right thing to do. The dragons weren't meant to kill people. They're more than that. Better than that."
"Which brings us back to the current situation," Laynin said with a sigh. "The draakin are supporting Sandvaal, even if magin die."
"There is no alternative," Ara replied. "But we will watch him and do what we can to prevent him from gaining too much power."
Laynin nodded, but she suspected it was far too late for that.
Tell me the truth, is he the cutest baby you've ever seen?
He is indeed, adorable. Risper's head poked over her shoulder, peering at Rhyen. His breath grazed her neck, tempering the cool breeze which blew across the Dragonhall rooftop. In spite of the chill, Laynin sat leaning against Risper's leg, enjoying the peace of the late afternoon. She could hardly remember the last time she was up here and not tense, watching soldiers and scanning the road for potential attackers.
I would bet you were cute as a hatchling, she said with a smile.
Naturally. All baby dragons are, he said, with only a hint of conceit. Although, there was one dragon who was not.
Oh? she asked with a laugh. Why was that?
He exhaled softly and lay his head on the stones of the roof. He hatched with his wings fused to his body, and his head at a peculiar angle. It was as though he ran out of room in the egg and failed to grow as he should.
Poor thing. What happened?
At first, everyone thought he would die. With his twisted head and neck, they thought he may not eat. Some said it was just as well. With no working wings, what good would he be?
That's terrible. Just because he was a bit different, doesn't mean he should die.
Indeed not. But if he could not eat, he would suffer and no one wished for that.
I suppose they wouldn't. What happened to him?
He began to eat. At first they had to grind down everything so he could swallow, but he managed. After a few days, his body started to loosen and his head and neck straightened out. His wings, however, were still attached. The skin of his sails were fused to his body. Although there was talk of him being unable to fly, he bonded to a young woman. She did everything for him and with him, and he grew.
Then one day a healer suggested trying to cut his wings free. His draakin and he talked about it for days, or so I am told. A decision like that is not made lightly.
I would imagine it isn't. Laynin adjusted her position to get more comfortable. Rhyen would need to feed soon, but she'd enjoy this time with Risper in the meantime. What did they decide?
They decided it would be too risky. His body might become infected and kill him, and he may be in a lot of pain. A magin healer would not be able to help if that happened. Dragons do not heal as humans do. If the surgery went badly, he would suffer a great deal before he died. In addition, his draakin loved him, regardless of his ability to fly. To her, that did not matter in the least. So they refused.
There's no dragon like that now, Laynin pointed out.
Indeed not. His draakin became ill one winter, with a terrible fever. She did not recover. Some said no one would bond him after she died, but I believe he refused to bond again. She was the one person who had seen only him, and not the things he could not do. He loved her with his whole heart, and could not bear to live without her.
Laynin found herself looking through a sheen of tears. Poor dragon. I didn't know dragons hearts could break like that. She wiped her eyes with her upper arm, leaving moisture on the soft cotton.
Every time we lose our draakin, Laynin dear, he replied. Sometimes I think I might not bond again, but I always find a spark in a new draakin. Something compelling. Perhaps after you, I will not bond again. He sounded so melancholy at the idea that her heart ached for him.
You will, she assured him. At least I hope you will. I wouldn't like to think of you pining away for me. The idea of him with someone else was slightly disconcerting, but it was the way of things. She certainly preferred that to him dying.
Maybe I will bond Rhyen after you're gone. And his child, and his child's child.
She laughed softly. At least I know they would be in good hands. Or claws. Or wings.
He rumbled. All of those things. If they are your descendants, they would be extraordinary, and good people.
Her smile faded slightly. With Sandvaal's blood running through their veins.
Indeed, but blood doesn't make all of a person. If they are raised to be good people, they will be.
No pressure, she said dryly. She squinted, catching a sign of movement in the direction of Sandvaal's camp. Men drew wagons pulled by horses forward and others loaded boxes onto the back. Others moved around pulling down tents and starting to fold them.
Laynin blinked. "I can't believe what I'm seeing," she said out loud.
"Believe it," a voice said from behind her.
She turned to see Fanad, his eyes on the camp, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was difficult to read, but he appeared unimpressed.
"You won't be as happy to see them go as I will?" she asked.
"Oh, I'm happy to see them go." He lowered his arms and stepped closer. "But they've made life interesting."
"That's certainly one way to put it," she said bitterly.
"I know it must feel like the world has turned upside down," he said, with more sympathy than she'd seen from him before. He moved to sit beside her. "Neither Zannis nor Luthin liked me much, but draakin are family in a way. I feel as though I lost a brother and sister, although we fought like siblings." He looked down and started tracing circles on the stone with his fingertip. "You've lost more than I have, but I never thanked you for saving me and Fashfi that time."
"I should say the same to you for helping Risper and I. And little Rhyen." She gave the baby a fond smile. "I know we've had our differences, but I don't want to argue with you anymore. I think sometimes we think we have our dragons and that's all we need. But the draakin—we need each other too."
"Yes we do. And now the army is leaving, we'll have more time, fewer distractions and nowhere to hide from each other." He gave her a rare smile.
She chuckled. "Now I'm starting to think you're warning me that I should expect to fall over you at every turn."
It was his turn to laugh. "No, I think I'll always be quiet and stay out of the way, but I want to be there more, for everyone. There's been a lot of needless heartache. If only we'd struck sooner—"
Her smile evaporated. "Yes, well we didn't. The past is the past, there's nothing we can do about it now." She spoke more curtly than she'd intended to.
His expression closed immediately."I know, you're right, of course," he replied. And just like that, the wall which had always existed between them was back, although now it wasn't as firm or high as it had been. They may never been friends, but they might not be as antagonistic as they had been.
Her attention returned to the camp. She couldn't have made out Sandvaal from here, but he was sure to be there, issuing orders and organising things.