soon darkened with sweat and the thin gray silk of his tunic clung in damp patches to his chest and back. He told himself the salt sting in his eyes was sweat and that the hollow in his body was only the growling of an empty stomach. Over forty measures passed in silence. The sweltering air kept all animals in their shelters with barely enough energy to whimper their complaints to each other. A few birds were aloft on their way somewhere else, as birds always were in the Desert. Sometimes there came the soft shussh of shifting sand or a snort as one of the horses cleared its nostrils. But none of the men or women spoke for a long, tense time.
Finally Chay, who had let his horse lag behind Rohan’s to give the young man some privacy, caught up to him again. They rode ahead of the troops, out of earshot even in the profound stillness. Rohan glanced around at him. “Yes?” he prompted.
“You’ve never hunted a dragon before. It’s past mating now, and he’ll be even more vicious.”
“I promised Father.”
“Rohan, I wish you’d let me—”
“No. This dragon is mine.”
Chay glanced away. “As you wish, my prince,” he said stiffly.
“No! Chay, don’t—I never want that from you!”
The cry from the heart softened Chaynal. “I’ll have to call you that around the others, you know. But we’ll stay to each other as we’ve always been, if that’s what you want.”
Rohan nodded his gratitude. “I need that, Chay. I’m going to need your help.”
“You have it. You don’t need to ask.” Chay shrugged his shoulders against the heat. “I can almost hear the Merida getting ready. They’ll have seen the fires by evening and know Zehava’s dead. There’ll be trouble, Rohan.”
“I have a few ideas,” the young prince responded. “And not just for them.”
“Roelstra?” Chay guessed, and saw confirmation in the set of Rohan’s jaw. “You’d better be in one hell of a secure position before the Rialla.”
“I’ll be in what he’ll think is an untenable position. He’ll like that. He’ll think I’m ready to grab whatever support I can get, even from him. And support will come in the form of one of his doubtlessly charming daughters as my wife.”
“But Tobin said that Andrade—”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“You’re going to disobey the Lady of Goddess Keep?” Chay whistled softly between his teeth.
“I’m scared to death, if you must know,” he confessed. “She loomed over Tobin and me like a she-dragon when we were little, and the feeling lingers a bit. But I’m going to live my own life, not her version of it. And that’s why I’m going to need your support, especially at the Rialla.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, of course. But do you know what you’re doing?”
“Yes,” Rohan said flatly. “I’m going to build a princedom that doesn’t depend on my sword. Father said the promises of a prince die with him. Not this prince, Chay! When I die, my sons will inherit peace, not just the absence of war for a few seasons or years while enemies think up new ways to attack.” He paused for Chay’s reaction, and when none was forthcoming remarked, “You’re not being very enthusiastic.”
“It’s a fine idea,” Chaynal said carefully. “But I don’t think it’s very practical.”
“I’ll make it work. You’ll see.”
Rivenrock rose up before them. The reddish striations in the stone might have been dried blood, dragon or human. Rohan drew rein, contemplating the mouth of the canyon with its great spire.
“He’s still here.” Rohan pointed to dark patches of plants. “See the bittersweet along the cliff? He’s been cropping it to keep up his strength, because he’s not done mating. Usually it grows back almost overnight, but this is eaten right down to the ground.”
“It doesn’t take a dragon six days to mate his females,” Chay protested.
“Father wounded him badly. Can’t you sense that he’s still back there in the canyon?”
Chay saw and heard nothing, and said so. Rohan only smiled. All at once a shriek echoed off the canyon walls, its force clattering loose stones down to the gully. “He’s here,” Rohan repeated, and rode forward. Half a measure into the canyon he dismounted and unsheathed his sword, gesturing for Chaynal to do the same. “Maeta,” he said to the commander, “Keep everyone else back. You’re here to help me drag this monster home, and that’s all. Chay, come with me.”
“Your grace,” Maeta began, her eyes narrowing with worry—black eyes like Zehava’s, whose kinswoman she may or may