“Where is this feast to be?” NoSohoth asked.

“Dairuss, of course,” the Copper said. “I must congratulate my brother on his triumph. Istach, would you be kind enough to act as the Tyr’s messenger, and tell your parents that we are coming to celebrate his new position?”

“Yes, Tyr,” Istach said. NoSohoth stamped at her not using the more proper “my Tyr” but it did a little good to have the old goldeater get some exercise being aggravated.

“A feast,” AuRon asked. “Here?”

“That is what they said. They shall be here in nineteen days. I flew hard, Father, to bring you the news. To tell the truth I’m famished.”

AuRon and Natasatch had taken possession of an old Ghioz mine in the Red Mountains above the City of the Golden Dome. Naf had worked out a signal with the mirror or a firework if he was needed, day or night. So far, he’d not called on his dragon Protector, but he had sent gifts in the form of herds of sheep and goats and a few blighter herdsmen. They were cattle thieves captured in the borderlands and pardoned to serve the dragons. AuRon didn’t think much of them, but Natasatch was training them with a will, eager to start having her own servants to attend them.

“It would help if we knew what a feast entailed,” Natasatch said, dryly.

AuRon had been around the Lavadome dragons enough to at least know what a feast entailed. “Oh, roast cattle, pork, mutton, fish and fowl, if any are about for the welcoming mouthful and aftersnacks. If there’s any gold or silver about it would be considered polite to at least offer the guests a taste.”

“We don’t have anything like that to give our guests. Just Naf’s sheep and goats, and it doesn’t sound like the whole herd would feed them all. How many guests will there be, Istach?”

“Guests imply I invited them,” AuRon said. “I didn’t.”

Natasatch sighed. “The Tyr will go where he will in the lands of his Alliance. I just wish he hadn’t decided to come so soon. We’ve hardly settled in.”

“He said something about bringing the Aerial Host,” Istach added.

“Aerial Host. More like Aerial Appetites. Dairuss isn’t a rich land. If half the Lavadome descends on me, they’ll eat these hills dry.”

“Perhaps if you serve him a poor meal, they won’t visit again,” Istach said.

Natasatch glared at her.

“Perhaps Naf could be convinced to offer a bounty on scrawny old crows. I’d like to set a platter of beaks and feathers in front of my brother. The arrogance.”

“Your son will be with them, I expect. We wouldn’t want to shame AuSurath among his new comrades in the Host.”

“It is an honor to host the Tyr,” Istach said. “You should make an effort.”

“Is that why you keep our daughter around?” AuRon asked. “To gang up on me like a wolf pack?”

“Very well. Istach, do you have any strength left in your wings?” Natasatch asked.

“A little mutton would help.”

“After you’ve eaten, fly down to Ghioz and tell Imfamnia that we must entertain the Tyr. She’s experienced with this sort of thing. I’d like to hear her advice.”

“When did you meet Imfamnia?” AuRon asked.

“She flew by when you were out on one of your surveying the countryside flights with our good king. Her mate wasn’t feeling well and she needed to get out. It was just a social call. She offered her advice in our role as Protector.”

AuRon didn’t know why that troubled him, but it did. “You could have told me.”

She clacked her griff in reply.

“Well, if we’re going to ask for advice, let’s at least fly down to her rather than bring her here. I don’t like her poking around Dairuss.”

AuRon recognized the Ghioz Protector’s resort. NiVom and Istach had settled in to the old carving on the mountainside. The face had scaffolding over it and works were being carried out on an enormous scale.

“A feast?” Imfamnia said, upon their arrival the next day. “Why didn’t you say so as soon as you landed?”

She shared a quick prrum with Natasatch, who said: “I’m still getting used to all the traditions between Protectors. Istach said something about asking permission to land, making sure I didn’t alight above you…”

“Oh—we’re equals and friends, Dearflame. Don’t trouble yourself about protocol. We’re neighbors. What’s more, we’re few dragons in a land of many men. We must learn to rely on each other.”

Imfamnia guided them inside. Some of the doors and passageways had been enlarged to accommodate dragons. The floors shone brighter than they had even under the Red Queen.

“Mind your claws, please,” Imfamnia said.

“I’m to host an Imperial Feast,” AuRon said. “The Tyr is coming, along with some of the court and members of the Aerial Host.”

Imfamnia’s scale raised and resettled as she thought. “An Imperial Feast, no less. I’m only too happy to be of service to my neighbor. I must call my mate. NiVom!” She sent a human servant scurrying with a nip, his head tucked in between his shoulders like a turtle.

“I’m worried about having enough for them to eat,” Natasatch said. “Dairuss isn’t crawling with cattle. From what I understand lambing season is coming up and the herds can’t be disturbed.”

“When is it to be?”

“Sixteen days’ time.”

“Oh, food’s no trouble at all, then,” Imfamnia said. “We’ll load a few barges with cattle, and we’ll have them at the door of your King Naf’s dome in three days’ time, with a day to spare in case of mischance. Just don’t hold it up in the mountains, or anything. Somewhere easy to drive cattle from the riverbank.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Natasatch said.

“What do you want in return?” AuRon asked.

Imfamnia waved a sii in the air. “Oh, call it a gift, in honor of your new rank as Protector of a key province.”

“You’re very kind,” Natasatch said.

“Will you be serving gold coin or silver to welcome your guests?”

“Coin?” AuRon asked.

“You grays are always forgetting coin. Yes, coin puts everyone in a pleasantly satisfied mood.”

“There’s precious little coin in Dairuss. It’s a poor province.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can urge your thralls—”

“Slaves, you mean,” AuRon said. “We don’t keep slaves, whatever you call them.”

AuRon, don’t start a quarrel with someone who is trying to be kind to us, Natasatch thought to him.

“Well, if it’s simply a bit of coin holding you back, I’d be happy to loan you some,” Imfamnia said.

“I’m grateful for your help with the food, but I must not accept coin,” AuRon said.

AuRon! Natasatch thought.

She led them into a balcony room AuRon remembered from his previous visits. The blood and flame had long since been washed away, as had the Red Queen’s taste in two-color decor. The Protectors of Ghioz preferred white and gold, accented with a little blue of various shades here and there.

“What’s keeping my mate? Dearflames, I must insist on supplying you with some coin. The Red Queen had centuries’ worth of coin tucked away. We’re always sniffing out new troves. You know the Ghioz of old buried their parents with it.”

“They don’t object to their ancestors being dug up?” AuRon asked.

“Ghioz? The only thing they regret is that they didn’t find the grave first. Even for humans they’re unusually bad.”

“If there’s to be an Imperial Feast I must get my scale into shape.” She rapped her tail against a gong and humans began to flow in from crevices like water into a leaky boat, lugging wooden boxes full of tools.

Her scale looked perfect to AuRon, but then dragonelles had a better eye for that sort of thing.

“There’s just one, tiny problem, AuRon. The Tyr—well, he’s banned me from his court. We had rather a misunderstanding about something that wasn’t my fault at all; it was my foolish first mate and his friend the Dragonblade. They somehow blame me for letting the dragonriders into the Lavadome.”

“I’ve heard a little about it. Your first mate was Tyr SiMevolant then, I believe.”

“Yes, and he was cruel and stupid. But he thought the Dragonblade was just what we needed to survive in a world of men. Have you seen his blade? I was shaking so hard my scale half-dropped out for fear. Yet Tyr RuGaard seems to believe I had something to do with those men taking over the Lavadome.”

AuRon rather doubted she had been that terrified. Though she did have a reputation for running from a fight. But enough of the past. “If I’m to be hosting this feast, I’ll say who’s to be invited and who’s not. You and your mate will be my guests. It’s the least I can do for your help with the victuals. But I’ll have to refuse your offer of coin. The food is generosity enough.”