Topic: The Rise of the Dragonstar

[Cran]

I promised you some more 'dragon' chapters - here is the first one. It comes from Part 3 - The Rise of the Dragonstar in the draft story - this is about 2 and half Cycles after Nylor's escape from Asteron ... of course, some of the details are likely to change as the redraft of the rest of the story continues, but the essence of it should remain...

Now, if I remember my own story correctly,
When we last left our hero ...
Pursued by derags, he found himself trapped on a low hill in a clearing, and he found a large hole in the ground that turned out to be a cave entrance. Wounded, he fell into the hole, dragged himself deeper into the cave, saw a bright light, and passed out (yet again).


Chapter 44

Nylor carefully opened his eyes again. He was still in the cavern. The blazing crystal still bathed him in a strong white light. The grey, half-hidden shape still lay beyond the glare. And his leg still hurt. ?Nothing has changed, so it?s not a dream.?
He looked around for his pack, but failed to find it. ?Great!? His voice sounded hollow. ?No food, no kava, no crenus.? Gritting his teeth, Nylor climbed to his feet and leaned against the cavern wall, this time it was warm and dry. By placing his hand between his eyes and the bright crystal, he could see more of the cavern.
The glowing gem sat atop a natural pedestal, and scattered around this flat-topped stalagmite were more of the smaller glowing stones, similar to the one in his belt-pouch. The grey shape seemed more familiar now. It lifted its huge head and turned towards the Noric Lord. Without the direct glare of the crystal blinding his eyes, Nylor could see that the dragon was not really grey, but its hide shone with rainbow hints, like pearl. His mind formed the question. ?Vanemut??
?I(-the-dragon) accept that sound,? the dragon responded, ?and you(dra-gul!) limp(again!) in pain(again!). Rest dra-gul, and let us compare adventures.?
Nylor did limp to the dragon. He relaxed against her soft, resilient hide, and rested in her serenity. Vanemut brought her huge head around to gently nuzzle him, and her throat rumbled a comforting sigh. Their minds met, and the edges of their thoughts meshed and became as one ? a sharing. Nylor laughed. ?Now I know how Aron and Tasha feel when they go into their silences together.?
Of all the incidents which Vanemut shared, there were three which dominated Nylor?s interest. Because they were bursts of image, sound, memory, and deduction, and they flowed into Nylor all at once, along with the other hundred or so experiences that the dragon wished to share, it took some time for the Noric to sift through, and rearrange things so that his mind could interpret them. What he ended up with was something like this:
?Van(I-the-dragon)emut flying, cool morning air, early thermals just starting to be felt against wingtips, Fire(Le?hmord)Home below, hungry, hunting, woolly rock-jumpers(mmm, delicious!) leaping (three of them) from shadow of me(the-dragon), leap left, leap right, following into mist rising, now diving, diving, pull-up-quick! Strekker(demon-of-stone) in the mist! Twist, fly, follow strekker, it clutches something, something is human! Something is remembered, Akori-human! Something is dra-gul?s friend (so says Aurelan-of-grey)! Follow, follow into FireHome.
?Van(I)emut seeks to aid, Akori(pain), into caverns, strekker to Aurelan(nasty-bent-deformed-not-grey), strekker drops Akori(in-pain),  Aurelan(nasty) pleased with strekker, Aurelan(nasty) not pleased with strekker, Aurelan(deformed-nasty) screams, hits, sends away strekker, Akori(pain-no-hand-no-sword) moves, Aurelan(nasty) hits Akori(pain), Van(I)emut flies at Aurelan(nasty), pushing, snapping, anger! Akori(pain) stands, calls Van(I)emut, must allow Akori(pain) as dra-gul, flying, flying, seeking Aurelan(grey), find Aurelan(grey) near human city(ruined).?
And:
?Van(I)emut resting, wings stretch under warm sun, itch behind left eye-ridge, itch under right wing, sense (pain) of something, something is Gro?hd(-below-Fire(Le?hmord)Home)-dweller, some (pain) of (flesh-meat-not very tasty), much (pain) of (heart-spirit), Gro?hd(below)-dweller follows track of woolly rock jumpers (mmm delicious!), Gro?hd-dweller seeks (shelter-sanctuary) in Fire(Le?hmord)Home, Gro?hd-dweller weak(hunger-pain), Van(I)emut hunts, woolly rock jumpers (mmm delicious!), diving, diving left, strike!, bite(mmm)!, fly, swoop left, spin right, strike!, bite(mmm)!, grasp left, grasp right, fly to Gro?hd-dweller(hungry-sad), share woolly rock jumpers (mmm delicious!), share (pain-sadness-horror-anger-loss), Gro?hd-dweller alone(lonely-sad)!, all gone(dead)!, rest, rest(heal) Gro?hd-dweller, rest(heal).?
And:
?Van(I)emut-much-younger, warmth and belly-full, all(dragonkin)-resting, Red(Uriga)-Star high(bright), (sky)fires falling, falling-boom!-die, falling-boom!-die, falling-boom!-not die!, Van(I)emut-much-younger seeks (sky)fire that did not die(!), (sky)fire(bright) in ground-hole(bigger-than-dragonmother!), little stars(not-die!) all around,  Van(I)emut-much-younger wants(takes) little brights(!), brings all little brights(!) to Low(here-this-place)Home, derags(edible-but-not-tasty) try to take little brights(!), Van(I)emut-much-younger flies at derags(edible-but-not-hungry), strike!, strike!, derags(edible) flee, Aurelan(grey) speaks(shares) of dra-gul, speaks(shares) of Dragonstar, time(will-come), time(is-now).?
This last memory-sharing brought out one of Nylor?s own, of the morning they prepared to leave Mindenor, of Janyn quoting from the Book of Vision (?and the lords find hope, their swords to march, when the Dragonstar rises?), of the odd look on Aron?s face when he heard that line. Nylor peered through narrowed eyes at the crystal, and thought, ?Aron said I?ll find what I?m looking for; he must have known since that morning!? The Noric Lord smiled.

***

If anyone had been on or near that hill at the darkest hour of that cold evening, and looking in the right direction, they could not have missed the tiny bright star that seemed to erupt from the ground and climb on dragon?s wings into the chill dark sky. They might even have glimpsed the figure perched upon the mighty dragon?s shoulders, the figure whose long fingers held the starstone high above it for a short while, before covering it and holding it close to its belly. If anyone had been there, but the hill was empty of watching eyes that evening.
Nylor laughed, engulfed once again by the thrill of flying. He let himself drown in the awesome sensations that flooded him, mind and body. The cold night air that rushed at and past him, stinging his exposed face with unseen needles of ice, so cold that his eyes turned dry, and his nose wet; so fast that the air felt like a solid thing, pushing, trying to unseat him; the rhythmic knotting and stretching of the massive muscles against his inner thighs, the added whooshing rush of the huge wings stroking the air.
He saw magical redlit landscape seemed to move slowly beneath them while they hung motionless in the ever-changing sky, and the clouds, sometimes thin wisps above him, mostly thick and fluffy below him, occasionally a red fog that surrounded and wet him. The only disappointment was that he could not Graverren in this light, neither approaching nor rushing between the icy peaks. They had left those mountains far behind by the time Uriga had lifted above the clouded horizon.
?Where(-in-the-warm-hunting(Thoria)-ground) for dra-gul?? Vanemut?s questing thought flowed into the Noric?s reverie.
?Sumenor,? Nylor replied, though his voice meant nothing in the rushing gale, ?if that?s not too far for one flight?? He instantly regretted the afterthought.
The dragon expressed surprise and chagrin. ?The city(-of-Su-and-men-of-the-sun) shall see(witness) the Dragon(dra-gul)star before it next sees its symbol(Su-golden-sun).? Vanemut pretended not to hear Nylor?s apology as she drew her wings close and dived.
Closer to the ground, and in the thicker air, Nylor could better appreciate just how fast they were travelling and he gasped, gulping more air than he intended. The wind roared in his ears and twisted his face into a grotesque grin. To his left, the ruddy wall of the Nether Mountains rushed past, and to his right, the low forest of Vergonia. The mountains edged closer, and closer, until Nylor thought he could almost reach over and pluck a bush or a rock from the rushing slopes. Shadowed valleys appeared and fell behind, before Nylor could get a good look at them.
Nylor looked ahead, blinking furiously to keep his eyeballs moist, and his chest thumped. The dragon was flying straight at a mountain, and she was flying faster! Nylor tried to shout, and couldn?t. He tried to think, and couldn?t. All he could do was stare with wind-pained eyes at the dark red peak that was growing before them. Closer, he could see the folds and the crags; closer, the rocks and the bushes became quite clear and distinct; closer, he believed he could make out the individual leaves and grasses and grains of dirt. Nylor wondered about preparing himself for impact with the mountain, and almost instant death, just as a powerful hand wrenched him backwards; an invisible hand, stronger even than the howling wind, a hand that pushed him even more into the dragon?s labouring shoulders, as Vanemut skimmed the peak, close enough that the wind of her passing dislodged some small rocks and gravel.
Then Nylor?s mind lit up, brighter than the crystal, brighter even than the sun, but warm and sweet. And in the light was laughter, long and deep, and thrilling love, and pleasure, and sheer joy! Vanemut was having fun!
They flew over Mistrun, a black valley in the shadow of the east ridge of the Nether Mountains, but the line separating shadow from redlit land moved eastward as he watched, the shadow retreating as Uriga climbed still higher. A light in the distance approached them, and grew. It became many points of light, and then Eltin was behind them. Nylor tensed as they approached, and then were over, the high marshes, even as he reminded himself that the demons there could rise no higher than the mist; the mist was thin this night.
From his high vantage, Nylor could see how the main channel of the Cor?lin wound through the choking swamp, dividing and dividing again, and always rejoining, a boggy delta at the northern foot of the Mistrun valley. Ahead, but growing with every wingbeat, Nylor could see the worn rocks, a row of broken teeth across their path, that marked the end of the wetlands. The dragon shifted slightly and aimed for the roiling cloud between two of the rocks. In less than a wingbeat, they entered the cloud and burst out beyond it.
Nylor caught his breath as the ground fell away sharply into deep shadow. Looking back, he could just see the retreating grey column that was the Thunder Falls. Smaller, thinner, and less imposing in the autumn season, but half a Cycle before, and in half a Cycle again, with the Upper Cor?lin swollen from the spring thaw, and the first rains of the Cycle, the Thunder Falls truly live up to their name, even in places as far away as Tren and Feld.
The Nether Mountains now formed a wall to their right, and ahead just beyond where the river divided, cutting two deep canyons, there a bright light shone from the long tapering finger of land. Tren was one of the first Thorian settlements, and the only one to survive from the long past before the Age of Fire, when the first Thorians arrived in their sea-battered ships and fought the ancient Denoran for a foothold in Ele. Ideally placed between the natural moats of the Cor?lin and Argil rivers, Tren needed only one strong wall across the finger, just above the knuckle where the fortress was built. There, the Thorians could retreat and defend their position almost indefinitely.
Vanemut followed the red ribbon of the Argil, until it flowed out into the Trival waters; the stretch of sea that separated Thoria from the lush but forbidding island of Eldinor. The Trival seemed to go on forever, but Nylor sat almost mesmerised staring at Uriga?s reflection sparking and dashing across the waters beneath them, keeping pace. On the edges of his vision were the mysterious forest island to the west, and the slowly moving distant coast and further distant mountains to the east.
Uriga was just past its zenith, and the eastern sky began to lighten. Nylor rubbed his aching eyes and windburned face, with fingers that felt stiff and numb. In the red-grey predawn, he could just make out the growing towers of Sumenor, the City of the Sun, the Crown of Great Thoria. Nylor unwrapped the glowing starstone, then looked again at the approaching city. Despite his dry, cracked lips, Nylor smiled.

***            ***            ***

 

[piersdad]

chapter 44 ?? you are busy
love the thought sharing thing a very hard thing to write.
i tried a cut and paste and put the thoughts in bold and made the reading a little easier

?Van(I-the-dragon)emut flying, cool morning air, early thermals just starting to be felt against wingtips, Fire(Le?hmord)Home below, hungry, hunting, woolly rock-jumpers(mmm, delicious!)

easy to do in a published book but difficult to do here.
i think the actual printing of the thought sharing wil be criticle

Home below, hungry, hunting, woolly rock-jumpers(mmm, delicious!)
on a web site it could be spectacular?

written and printed exactly right and you have a sort of twist that could catch on in writing history.
have you? read any other examples of this sort of writing.

[Cran]

  All up, the 3 parts of the story comprise 70 chapters, and about a dozen interludes, over 674 pages - not all that big in today's terms (where 900+ pages seems to be the norm)

As far as I know, I'm the first one to try thoughts (using single quotes) and dragon telepathy (thoughts within thoughts) like this ... and it's still evolving -
it seems to work best with italics in the brackets (or softer font colour),
but pasting into a post loses all the formatting ... 

The best way would be as a sound track ... easier to overlay echoes and background thoughts that way ... have to wait until someone buys the film rights... 

Other forms of expressing thoughts or telepathic communications have been as normal-unformatted-unquoted statements (which can be impossible to tell from narrative);
no spacing between words (which can be just hideous);
and alternating lines of unformatted text between two characters (which can be confusing).

[piersdad]

yes change of font to leave some parts just skipped but adsorbed .
when i pasted it to word and put the message in bold and the bracketed things in normal the whole sequence was a lot clearer.
when publishing the printer would be of some help.

so what happened to the snowlion.
i was looking at a tv article on vultures and i imagined a dragon with vulture wings a soft fur and a friendly face  with the aerobatics of a swallow.
i have added a new heading for poetry

[Cran]

piersdad - so what happened to the snowlion.

In chapter thirty something (once it's redrafted to fit the snowlion instead of the wolf), the snowlion encounters a small pride, and after only a brief soul-searching, goes with them (back to her own kind) ... 

Yes, there have been dragons (and other mythical creatures) with feathered wings ... I can't remember if the Luck Dragon (from the Never Ending Story) had feathers and fur, or just fur ... damn! I'll just have to watch it again 

[piersdad]

the luck dragon was depicted with soft fur and big endearing eyes

i took it as an inspiration for my own dragons  with green fur instead

[Cran]

all I could remember was that he had a head that reminded me of a friendly dog, and a body like the Asian dragons - long and snake-like 

I'd better get on with typing in chapter 45, where the Dragonstar meets the King of Thoria - not the usual kind of international meeting of heads of state... 

Unless you'd rather I went back to something else... chapter 6? some poetry? I still haven't dragged out any of the old short stories... 

[piersdad]

just do what ever you want as i can wait it is better you do some thing you feel the want-to-do  than some thing forced

[Cran]

I'm a student, and an ex-journo ... I do my best work when staring at looming deadlines 
[hey! an 'angry mob' smilie! ... I can use that when I type up the 'fall of Fortune' (near the end of Part 1)  ]
I've done some of chapter 45 ...

So, when we last left our hero ...
Despite his dry, cracked lips, Nylor smiled.


Chapter 45
There came an insistent pounding upon the heavy wooden door. Felessar opened his eyes and rolled out of his bed, a well-balanced golden knife in his hand as he crouched to face the intruder. The king?s bodyguards stepped forward out of the shadows, both of them armed with sword and dirk. Was that idiot, Urvilan, trying another coup? An assassination?
They tensed when the door burst open, then relaxed when the king's servant, Shenal, stumbled in, his face flushed in the light of the lamp he held before him, his eyes wide and excited, his mouth moving but unable to do more than suck air and expel it, with a chesty gasp. He staggered towards the Thorian king, then fell to his knees, his free hand pointing back to the door. Felessar placed a strong hand on the wheezing man?s shoulder.
?What is it, Shenal? Fire? Invasion??
The gasping manservant shook his balding head. Grey and brown wisps of hair floated out, then fell back over his ears. ?Sire ? the Dragon ? star ? Sire?? But Felessar was no longer in the room.
He ran along the wide passage to the stairwell, ignoring, if not oblivious to, the wide-eyed stares of his guards and servants. He took the stairs two at a time, something he hadn?t done since he was an exuberant boy  prince, playing Heroes and Maidens with his cousins, when, with Aryl, he had to rescue the fair Marene from the dread clutches of the evil Lords Anomin and Arodin. The game was called off because the young Felessar had slipped and scraped the skin from his knee and shin on one of the stone steps. It hurt more than anything at the time, but shortly after, he proudly displayed his wounds to the others; mighty wounds, and worthy, for so young a hero! This time he did not slip.
He ran through a doorway and out onto the open level of the lookout tower. He leaned against the rail, and stared in amazement. The dragon flew in a tight circle over and around the tower. The tall rider held aloft a star, a brilliant white star! The dragon, a frighteningly magnificent creature, landed so very gently on the wall beneath the tower. Rising up on massive haunches, and with huge wings spread for balance, the dragon rested its smaller front claws on the rail, either side of Felessar, much as a tall hound rests atop the railing of a fence. The long lustrous neck curled back to one side, so that the jewelled eyes of the mighty beast were next to and level with the rider, who was now level with the king. Both dragon and rider looked at him. Felessar stared back, feeling little like a king, and very much like an excited child.
The dragon and rider edged closer, close enough for the two men to clasp hands in greeting. Felessar could see now the dry cracking skin, red and burned, on the other?s face and hands, and the pale blue eyes, red-rimmed, and sunken. Felessar moved to speak, but the rider spoke first.
?King Felessar, ahhh?? he rasped, before falling forward. Felessar tightened his grip, and hauled the unconscious man over the rail. Other hands grabbed the rider and gently lowered him to the stone floor. The dragon?s head peered in over the rail, nudging Felessar aside, and began a high-pitched keening. The Thorian king pushed at the huge head.
?Back off! He needs air, and a healer! Someone, get a healer up here! Byron or Enpor, if he?s around!? He pushed at the dragon again. ?Please move back! Look, dragon.? He faced one crystal eye. ?Your rider is burned, badly burned, and dehydrated as well. You must have been flying all night, and too fast! Don?t you know what all that wind and cold can do to a human?? He pointed to Nylor. ?Well, that?s what it does! So, no matter what he tells you, if you take him up again without any protection for his face or hands, then go slow!?
   ?I ? will ...? The thought sounded somewhere inside his ears, among a rush of sensory impressions that were simply too fast or fleeting to follow, and Felessar wasn?t sure if he could trust his ears or the idea that the dragon had answered. More people arrived, and Felessar turned to see who they were. There was a face he wanted to see.
?Ah, Enpor, we have a bad case of thrill-seeking windburn for you.? The masterhealer gave his king a strange look, then bent to his charge. Lifting Nylor?s hands, he inspected the fingers, then concentrated on the red dry face.
?We might save his fingernails. He won?t want to touch salt or acid fruit on those lips for a long time.? Enpor?s commentary fell to a few hums and illegible sounds, as he continued his impromptu examination. He stood up. ?Well, bring him to my rooms. Felessar, when you are better prepared, I?ll see you there.? The grim-faced masterhealer turned and left.
Felessar nodded, then turned back to the dragon. ?Did you just say ?I will???
?I ? did ...? As before, the Thorian monarch could only understand the words, not the imaginary storm which carried them. The dragon lowered its head beyond the rail, its thought was sad, contrite. Felessar leaned over the rail, watching as the dragon leapt down, or more accurately floated down, to the courtyard. Guards, servants, and animals scattered to get out of its way. The dragon curled up on the flagstones, its pearl-lustred head resting on its forelegs, and once again Felessar was reminded of a faithful hound. Felessar wondered if he?d been too harsh on the wondrous beast.
?I apologise for my abruptness. I?m sure you were not aware of our weaknesses. You are still very young, as dragons go, and you must have flown far this night. Rest, mighty one, your rider will be fine.?
Vanemut raised her head slightly. ??young ? I (she-dragon) ? vowed ? Su(you)menor ? see dra-gul (?star) ? before ? the sun ??
Felessar looked to the east, at the bright flame just peeking over the wide gap between the Northash and Nether mountains. He smiled. ?Well, my lady, your vow is kept.?
The king of Great Thoria gazed at the dragon again, and boyish thoughts whirled in his mind. What a wonderful experience it must be to ride a dragon. How he wished he could trade places with that young man, yes, even burned as he was! Let him deal with self-important senators and over-dressed ambassadors, the war, merchants? petitions for negotiated trade agreements, and those awful public functions; and let Felessar sit astride the greatest creature in Ele, and feel the rush of wind as he flew over land and sea, and through the clouds!
These thoughts were interrupted by his closest adviser, Sara. ?Please put this on, Sire. As attractive as I, and many others, might find you, if you persist in running around naked at this time of day, you will probably catch a chill.?

[to be continued ...] 

[piersdad]

These thoughts were interrupted by his closest adviser, Sara. “Please put this on, Sire. As attractive as I, and many others, might find you, if you persist in running around naked at this time of day, you will probably catch a chill.”

“Ah, Enpor, we have a bad case of thrill-seeking windburn for you.”

lol i love it.
suddenly amongst all the kerfuffle reality strikes.

this is really good chapter i was really engrossed in it.

i love the way the story jumps from fantasy to reality and back it creates memory flags that enable you to remember  and comprehend the story.
a tired dragon sleeping, an embarrased king, the whole arrival of the dragon seems real as you describe what would really happen if you were a journo doing your job
 

[Cran]

Thank you 
I've just been looking ahead through the chapter ... and wondering whether to do a Readers Digest version, because it goes a bit 'off-topic' for a while, describing the 'almost-but-not-quite-romance' relationship between Sara and Felessar ... and then a scene in the Healer's rooms ... and then some discussion and presentation of flying gear ... and then he's off again.

The rest of the original chapter 45 from that point will be split off and made into a new chapter 46 (meaning that every chapter from then on will have to be bumped up 1  )  - because there is a distinct contrast in how the arrival of a dragon is going to be treated in Tren (bit of bad history between dragons and Tren ... long story ... have it mind for the Tales volume). 

And then, chapter 47 (now 48), which is the Dragonstar's arrival in Meribren from Finder's point of view ... which might work as a stand-alone short story, but would work even better if I introduced you to Finder first ... and that means putting in at least chapter 10 from Part 1, and possibly one of the chapters from Part 2 ... hmmm ...

Votes, anyone? 

[piersdad]

with out re reading oll the other chapters finder is an unknown.

Felessar is the thorian  king  the healer is a doctor
some how you have to describe a kink in each character so that they stick in memory.
the healer -- doctor stern words to a dragon--
thorian king -- balanced gold knife  naked and not realising it.
sara --a close adviser concerned for dignity of king. etc etc.

each little insight to the character helps make them real.

in harry potter books the character each have some memoriable kink that makes them real to the reader.

so you have done a great job so far 
i log ine 3 times a day incase there is more.
btw the shout should be 700 posts not 300  lol


 

[Cran]

Ah yes, of 300 of the 700 are yours, and yours alone - a significant milestone for you.   

Soon, (maybe by Christmas?), the forum will have 1000 posts - and maybe 2000 visitors (passed the 1000 visits, by the way) - 

I'll check over Chapter (48), and see if it really needs an intro - I might be able to summarise one for the post.

[piersdad]

oh i see 303 posts personally never even looked at that stat.
as piers38 said slowly is best and he was right
get to see what is best and then let the customers and viewers arrive.

early mistakes will not put too many people off.

[Cran]

Well, we'll try it... 

I've put in the first half (thereabouts) of chapter 48 ...
but I've included an excerpt from chapter 7 to preempt one question that would have cropped up ...

excerpt from chapter 7
?
In the Great Hall, servants and junior guards were rushing about, trying to complete their duties before midmorning and the scheduled start of the Feastday activities. Nylor, walking a little unsteadily due to his incomplete convalescence, leaned on Vanor?s shoulder for support as the Thorian led the way along the busy passages and hallways to the main hall.
?Hey! Look out Imron!? Vanor shouted at a boy who had almost collided with them at an intersection of two passages. ?Why don?t you watch where I?m going??
The somewhat flustered Imron, caught between a smile and a sneer, replied. ?Well, why don?t you go where I?m watching? Is he the Noric exile whose illustrious presence has caused me to be lumbered with your duties, as well as mine?? He inclined his head at Nylor.
?Imron, this is Nylor, and he don?t gen our speaks too well, so Tradetalk around him, okay? And tell the others to do the same.?
?Okay.? Imron agreed.
?Good. Nylor, this is Imron, bright-eyed and brilliant flea for the Captain of the Hall Guard, and the most blackmarked boy in the League of Pranksters.?
Nylor was confused. ?Flea? Blackmarked? League of Pranksters??
?Ah, I should have realised they are Thorian speaks.? Vanor explained. ?A ?flea? is what we call a page-in-service or a junior attendant.?
?Some apprentices are fleas, too.? Imron put in.
?I?m telling him, okay?? Vanor frowned at the smaller boy. ?For instance, I?m Lord Anomin?s flea.? There was pride in his voice when he said it.
?But why flea?? Nylor persisted.
?I?m getting to that. In the course of our duties, we frequently interrupt adults or get in their way. The story goes that, years ago, one boy so annoyed the Chief Steward that he screamed at the boy that he was getting under his skin, sapping his strength, and generally being irritating, just like a huge flea! The Lord Protector heard about it, and liked it, so he proclaimed that from then on, all pages, attendants, and yes, hall apprentices are to be called fleas. So, we?re fleas!?
 ?Whenever a flea gets into trouble,? Imron took over, ?and one of the stewards finds out, that flea gets a black mark against his record of service.?
?And the League of Pranksters?? Nylor prompted.
?The League of Pranksters,? Vanor got in first, ?is a group of fleas who spend their free time planning and performing various mischiefs, and other diversions.?
?Led by you, I imagine.? The young Noric offered.
Vanor looked at Imron and shrugged, ?What can I say? He?s quick.?
?Well, you might be able to stand around talking all day, but I?ve got duties to do. Yours.? Imron waved, then rushed past them.
?

end of excerpt



Chapter 48

Into Nylor?s moving dream intruded the thought, ?Wake, dra-gul.?
?So soon?? Nylor stretched the sleep from his limbs, and looked down past the leading edge of the dragon?s wing to see the growing island of light in the otherwise dark sea of low woodland. His eyes burned a little when he pulled the bright crystal out of its wrapping and held it aloft. Vanemut circled the town twice, before descending to the ceremonial square. ?What a treat this would have been for the mid-season festival. You, dear one,? Nylor added as he replaced the starstone, and rubbed Vanemut?s neck, ?would have enjoyed the harvest feast!?
Vanemut indicated that she was not hungry at this time, and in a rush of sensory impressions, there was a succession of woolly rock-jumpers (mmm delicious!) from her recent hunt near Tren.


***

Finder sat up impatiently, angry that his sleep had been disturbed by the running and shouting in the passageway beyond his door. He climbed out of his bed and dressed quickly, trying to make out what the noisemakers were shouting. He froze.
?Someone said war!? Grabbing his knife-belt, Finder ran into the hallway. ?But how? The Denoran were forced back to the old frontier.? He pushed past a couple of guards, who were arguing about which direction they should be heading. ?What is it? A new invasion?? He reached Anomin?s door, but stopped again and stared at the two guards, who had just turned the corner and left his view. ?Dragons? He said dragons!? Finder opened the door and looked in. Anomin was not there.
The voice of Stern, Peren?s flea, and Finder?s strongest rival, sounded close behind him. It sounded smug. ?Lord Anomin is in the courtyard, greeting the Dragonstar.?
?I know that!? Finder snapped. His mind raced. He could not allow himself to be shown up before another flea, especially not Stern! That could cost him the unofficial rank he had inherited from Vanor, and fought hard to retain. His eyes flashed around the room, and settled on a small, intricately carved wooden box. ?He wants this.? Finder gathered up the box and ushered the other boy out of the room.
?What is it?? Stern asked, unconvinced.
?It?s a box, of course.? The next few steps would be crucial, Finder knew, to his face-saving plan. He would have to second-guess not only Stern, who is shrewd and cunning and has always had his eye on Finder?s rank, but also their masters, Lord Steward Peren and Lord Protector Anomin, who was famous for being unpredictable!
?Greeting the Dragonstar, in the courtyard?? Finder?s thought tried to include an image of the event. He had to make some assumptions. ?The Dragonstar, a star? No, not in the courtyard; he?d be in the tower. A dragon? Can dragons talk? A person? Has to be a person! I hope it?s someone friendly.?
Finder walked briskly and confidently past the huge doors that opened onto the courtyard. Stern had started towards the doors, as he called to Finder?s back, ?hey! Where are you going??
?To the main hall, of course!? Finder shouted over his shoulder. He could hear Stern running to catch up. ?This is it,? Finder decided.
They entered the main hall together, and Finder almost laughed with relief. The hall was packed with people; guards, fleas, stewards, even kitchen hands! But the only faces Finder noticed were Anomin?s, and the only one who could be the Dragonstar. ?Is that Nylor?? The Noric, whose startling pale blue eyes were even more evident in a face so flushed and burned, spotted the Thorian boy?s approach, and he smiled recognition.
The two fleas made their way towards the Lord Protector, and Finder concentrated on how he was going to give the box to his master, without having to explain in front of Stern why he was bringing a box he hadn?t been sent for. If he could keep Stern far enough away, the overall noise might hide any conversation between Lord Anomin and himself, as long as his master did not become too angry or vocal.
?I?ve been called,? Stern said as he started to move off in a different direction. Finder looked past the retreating boy, to see that Peren was signalling for his flea. It was a minor relief, but Finder could not relax completely, not yet. He would still be visible to Stern, and to almost every flea in the hall, if things went wrong. He still had to hand over the box, the vital ingredient in his hastily devised plan.
As he neared the table, Finder noticed Nylor?s face and hands. That Nylor was the Dragonstar, Finder was thoroughly convinced. How else could a man?s skin be made so raw, if not by being caught in a dragon?s breath? It must have been an awful, and thrilling, experience, fighting and taming a dragon!
Nylor smiled and sipped the steaming kava that Anomin had handed him. The hot liquid, even the steam rising from the brew, hurt his lips, so he blew across the near full mug to cool it. The Lord Protector apologised for the drink?s heat as he filled another mug from the large pot that had been placed on his table. He raised an enquiring eyebrow at the Noric Lord, who had frowned pleasantly and taken another sip.
?It is different,? Nylor decided, ?slightly more spice and stronger that the Telkenor blend. I like it.?
Anomin grinned. ?It?s Mindenor kava; a gift from Orlan. He gave me some boxes of the powdered blend, and twenty cuttings of his best cropping bushes. Peren gave sixteen of them to our local growers, and we?ve put the other four into the kitchen gardens. Give us two Cycles, and the Vergonia blend will be a prime trade product. I?ll give you some to take with you.? He saw that his flea had reached their table, and was once again impressed by the boy?s ability to anticipate his master. Finder?s hands were out of sight, apparently clasped behind his back. ?Ah, Finder, please go to my rooms and fetch a box, a small carved box on the shelf above my desk.?
Finder nodded, not taking his eyes from Nylor?s face and hands. He did, however, notice the strange helmet and thick gloves on the table; protection from dragon?s breath, no doubt. ?Does it hurt very much??
Nylor laughed. ?No, it doesn?t hurt now, but it itches like mad when the gel wears off.? He patted the helmet. ?Lesson to be learned, Finder. If you ever ride a dragon, protect your skin, or you?ll get the worst case of windburn you can imagine!?
?Windburn?? Finder was disappointed. His image of Nylor bravely facing a raging dragon, and taming it with skill, courage, and perhaps a little magic, and suffering from the burning fumes of dragon?s breath, had suddenly been shattered. ?It wasn?t dragon?s breath??
?No,? Nylor managed, between chuckles, ?my dragon?s breath has not burned, yet. Smells a bit strong after a feed, but she hasn?t breathed at me.?
?Finder?? Anomin interrupted, trying to get the boy?s attention. ?The box??
Finder blinked, and brought his hands forward, holding the box in one of them. ?This box, Master??
Anomin looked at the box in his flea?s hand, then at the boy?s face, then at Nylor, then back to the box. ?Finder!? The Lord Protector?s strong voice carried the full length of the hall, causing everyone to stop and turn. Finder winced, and knew that Stern, and every other flea in the hall could hear and see what was coming. Two black marks, at least! Anomin continued. ?Finder, you are a marvel beyond marvels!? He patted the boy?s arm and accepted the box.
Finder managed a modest smile, then turned away. He walked through the hall in a dream. He didn?t notice that Stern had joined him, nor did he see the five other fleas moving to meet him by the doors. His plan had worked ? more than worked!
Nylor leaned over and spoke in a low voice. ?How did Finder know that you wanted that box? Does he have the power??
Anomin smiled. ?No. At least, I don?t think so. If he did, I doubt he would get into so much trouble. But he is quick, and very good at second-guessing; quicker, I would say, than Vanor was at his age. Every flea likes to second-guess his master. It gives them status among their friends, and keeps them busy, instead of plotting pranks. And, thinking about it, it?s not all that difficult to work out. He would have known that I was greeting someone, and that I usually present a small gift to honoured guests. He could not help but know that the only thing I?ve been talking about, since returning from Mindenor, is the new kava. Naturally, this would be the ideal gift. But he still managed to put it all together rather quickly. And public praise from a master is a rare bonus. He?ll be basking in glory and walking on clouds for a while; probably stay out of trouble until at least tomorrow evening.?

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[stay tuned for the next episode - when Finder faces the dragon!