his private study—Sioned and Urival were still in possession of the library, and he avoided her like poison—and saw the dark shapes rising in the sky. His heart soared with them, air filling his lungs as if he could call out to them and be heard. But in the next instant he remembered what their flight meant.
The vassals were jubilant that night in the Hall. Rohan watched them from the high table, drinking too much wine and pushing his food around on his plate. This would be the last Hatching Hunt, he vowed. What good was being a prince if one couldn’t issue an arbitrary order now and then? He listened to his vassals betting on who would kill the most hatchling dragons, and felt physically ill. Couldn’t they understand that something as beautiful as a dragon should be allowed to fly free as the Goddess had obviously intended?
The next day dawned cool and splendid. Rohan greeted it with a frown and reluctantly took his position at the head of the hunting party. He could feel stares like thin knives pricking into his back. His vassals were uneasy about him, and his obvious disapproval of their sport made them even more uncomfortable. That he had worked hard to gain their doubts was no comfort; that he had been trapped by tradition into this triennial slaughter infuriated him. The fierce blue of the sky and the dazzling sunlit sand was an insult to his black mood, and he further disgusted himself when he realized his feelings were being communicated to his horse. The stallion shifted restlessly between his thighs, and it took all Rohan’s skill to keep the horse calmed down.
Jahni and Maarken had the honor of riding between their father and their prince at the head of the hunt. The two boys chattered constantly with the excitement of the grown-up game, bouncing in their saddles and driving their ponies to distraction. Jahni pestered Rohan about how many talons and teeth they might collect from the sand, and Maarken complained for the hundredth time that morning about his father’s edict prohibiting them from entering the canyon with the rest of the hunt. Chay bore his sons’ entreaties with the patience of long practice until they spoke just once too often.
“If you won’t listen to your father, then take heed of your prince,” he snapped. “Don’t you remember what he told you last evening?”
Correctly assuming he was being called on to repeat his warning, Rohan said, “I don’t need to remind you, do I, how dangerous this will be? If you two don’t mind your horses and hold your tongues, I might begin to regret allowing you to come along at all.”
This unexpected sternness from the indulgent uncle they adored silenced both boys for the better part of a measure. At last Maarken slanted a look at Rohan and muttered, “You were much more fun before.”
Life had been much more fun before, Rohan told himself sourly. He had thought himself fully aware of the problems he would face as a ruling prince. But there were so many others for which he was unprepared and inexperienced—that damned word again, he thought in disgust, and turned in his saddle as one of the vassals called out the sighting of a she-dragon in the sky. Rohan did not look up with the others, though, for his gaze abruptly found Sioned. He felt the muscles of his jaw tighten and faced forward again. But the image of her straight-backed form in brown riding clothes, the coil of bright hair at her nape, and the delicate lines of her cheeks and brow stayed with him as if burned into his eyes. She would expect him to arrange some time alone for them, and all he could think about was avoiding her.
The hunt paused to watch the greenish bronze dragon float lazily on thermals, wings spread to reveal shining black undersides. Chay squinted into the glare and murmured, “Oh, but she’s a beauty, isn’t she? I don’t think I’ve seen that color more than two or three times before.”
“Will she attack us?” Jahni asked, both fearing and eager for a fight.
“No, she’s not interested in us,” Rohan replied. The dragon beat powerful wings, changing direction. “There, you see? She’s heading for the Veresch. Come on, let’s get moving again. I want to reach Rivenrock by noon.”
But just what he would do when he got there, he had no idea. He only knew he would not kill another dragon.