Haplo grinned sourly, shook his head. Built by dwarves! Centuries old. What a crock. She believes it, though. And she hates. Yes, Jarre is beginning to hate in earnest. Can’t get enough hate, can you, Sang-drax?
Haplo drifted along, going docilely where he was led. What did it matter where? His cell was always around him. The dog left Jarre, returned to its master’s side, growled at any elf who came too close.
But Haplo had learned something. The serpents didn’t know the truth about the Kicksey-winsey. They assumed the dwarves had shut it down. And that was good, he supposed, although what difference it might make was beyond him to figure out.
Yes, good for him. Good for Bane, who would be able to get the machine up and running. Good for the dwarves and for Limbeck.
But not, probably, good for Jarre.
That was the only incident worthy of note during the entire voyage, except for one last conversation with Sang-drax, shortly before the dragonship arrived in the imperial capital.
Once they left Tolthom (after beating off the angry mob, who discovered that there was more water on board, bound for the main continent), the trip to Aristagon was completed rapidly. The human galley slaves were worked to the point of exhaustion, at which point they were flogged and ordered to work some more. The dragonship was alone in Deepsky, an easy target.
Only a year before, lumbering, water-laden dragonships such as these would have been escorted by a fleet of small warships. Built along the same lines as the larger dragonships, the warships were able to maneuver quickly in the air and carried various pyrotechnic magicks designed to battle human raiders. But not anymore. Now the dragonships were on their own.
The emperor’s official public position was that the humans had become such a weak threat that escorts were no longer necessary.
“The truth of the matter,” Sang-drax informed Haplo on the final night of their voyage, “is that the armies of the Tribus elves are spread too thin. The warships are being used to keep Prince Rees’ahn and his rebels bottled up in the Kirikai Out-lands. So far, it’s working. Rees’ahn hasn’t a dragonship to his name. But if he allies with King Stephen, Rees’ahn will have dragons, enough to launch an all-out invasion. So the warships are not only keeping Rees’ahn in, they’re busy keeping Stephen out.”
“What’s stopped them from allying before this?” Haplo asked churlishly. He detested talking to the serpent-elf, but he was forced to do so in order to find out what was going on.
Sang-drax grinned. He knew Haplo’s dilemma, and reveled in it. “Old fears, old mistrust, old hatred, old prejudices. Flames that are easy to kindle, hard to douse.”
“And you serpents are busy fanning them.”
“Naturally. We have people working for both sides. Or should I say against both sides. But I don’t mind telling you that it’s been difficult and that we are not easy in our minds. One reason we appreciate Bane. A remarkably clever child. A credit to his father. And I don’t mean Stephen.”
“Why? What has Bane got to do with it? You must know that rigmarole he told you in the tunnel was a pack of lies.” Haplo was uneasy. Had Bane said anything to Sang-drax about the Kicksey-winsey?
“Oh, yes, we know he’s lying. But others don’t. Nor will they.”
“My lord has taken a fancy to the child,” Haplo warned quietly. “He won’t like it if anything happens to Bane.”
“Implying that we might do something to harm him. I assure you, Patryn, that we will guard this human child with as much care as if he were one of our own hatchlings. It’s all been his idea, you see. And we find that you mortal beings work much more efficiently when your own greed and ambition fuel the engine.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Come, come. Life must hold a few surprises, master. I wouldn’t want you to grow bored.”
The following morning, the dragonship landed in Paxaria, whose name means Land of Peaceful Souls.
Anciently, the Paxaria (Souls at Peace) were the dominating clan in the elven realms.
The founder of the clan, according to elven legend, was Paxar Kethin, who purportedly “fell from the firmament” when he was a baby and landed in a beautiful valley, from which he took his name. Minutes were to him as years. He grew to manhood on the spot and determined that he would found a great city here, having seen the three riverbeds and the Everwell in a vision while still in his mother’s womb.