shrewdly. “In the depths of the night we count those whose lives our actions have cost, yet the gods never tell us the numbers of those whose lives were spared because of what we have done. You may choose to think on that, when the night seems long.” He blinked owlishly above his veil. “And that is as it is. Your part is yet to come, and after that, it is in the hands of the gods. Fly fast and safe, Jouster. We will meet in Sanctuary.”
Aket-ten was already in the saddle again, buckling on her restraining strap. She looked back at him, grinned, but gestured upward. He took the hint, and signaled Avatre to kneel, climbing up in the saddle himself.
“Ride swift and safe, Mouth of the Bedu!” he replied, as he buckled on his strap. “We meet in Sanctuary!”
His last sight of them, as the two dragons clawed for height into the clear sky, was of the four camels plodding back into the desert. He hoped that whatever was to come, Sanctuary would live up to its name.
TWENTY
IT didn’t look like anything at all, really; just a faint, grayish haze on the surface of the three ripe tala berries in Kiron’s hand. It could have been dust, except that dust didn’t rub off. It could have been almost anything, or nothing at all, just an odd color on the hard little berries. Kiron handed them back to Heklatis, who took them with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “The harvest looks good this year,” he said.
“Yes,” Heklatis replied blandly. “They’re all like that, plump and well-colored. From here to the southern border of Tia, or so I’m told by the few who venture there. Whatever else, the rains were good for the tala.”
Lord Khumun nodded gravely. “So a week to dry, and then we can use them, which is just as well, since I think we have scarcely a week in stockpile.” He knew, of course. He had frowned at the odd color of the berries, had looked up at Heklatis who had nodded, then both of them smiled, just a little. Kiron contained his glee with an effort, for he knew that the Tians had no more tala stockpiled than the Altans did. The Altan agents had not been able to steal any tala, but they had done the next best thing; during the rains, they had made holes in the roofs of the storage rooms where it was kept, to deny it to the enemy. The rain and the rot that followed spoiled it, or most of it. Only the tala actually stored at the Jousters’ Compound had been spared.
Lord Khumun’s smile was a weary one; once the rains had ended, his lot had been fraught with difficulty, for the Magus placed in governance over all of them had flexed his muscles and ordered impossible things. A return to traditional Jousting; that had been the first thing, of course—well, he could order all he wanted, but the Magi could not compel obedience on the battlefield, at least, not yet, and the Jousters had bowed their heads and continued with Kiron’s tactics. But besides that, he had ordered all of them into the sky, twice a day, every day, with no rest and little recovery for the injured, and that was taking a toll on them. As tired as they had been during the rains, they were bone-weary now. Lord Khumun’s sad smile told Kiron that he would be glad to see an end to the situation at last, even though it meant there would be no more Jousters and he would have no more command.
Kiron could not imagine what the Magi were thinking of. Were they trying to be rid of the Jousters themselves? It seemed unlikely—
Or were they only trying to get rid of the old Jousters, seeking to replace them with young men of their choosing?
Kiron decided to ask Heklatis about that, this evening. Right now, he had a practice session to run.
They had gone back to using that distant practice field the day that the rains started to taper off, even though the senior Jousters were so much in the air that they didn’t have time, much less the need, to practice. Kiron didn’t want an audience where the Magi could see that they had gathered one. He did not want attention drawn to his wing.
They did have an audience, though, for their new exercises, which were quite exciting, even though there wasn’t