The Return of the Dragonhawk

Chapter 17 -- A Very Different Birthday

"Someone is coming!" Rhoz shouted.

Brelathan pulled his stallion Sablefyre around with a flourish and raced back to her side. "Where?" he demanded. He had been riding ahead, sword at the ready to protect his sworn ladylove. Despite her protests, Brelathan considered it his sacred duty to watch over Rhoz day and night.

"On the main road," she told him, pointing in the general direction where Astyanace had seen the small party of riders. "They are just clearing the swamp now."

Except for Brelathan's constant nagging about feminine deportment and the hazards of riding without saddle or bridle, it had been a delight to trot through the springtime forest, alive with bird calls and the scurrying of tiny feet, emerging into the pasture lands which unrolled before them like a carpet of wildflowers flooded with sunlight. Even the jagged grey teeth of the Dragonhold Mountains seemed less forbidding against the flawlessly blue sky. The morning had passed so enjoyably that Rhoz almost forgot that this was no pleasure ride, but the grim business of border patrol. Dys was a nation again, but could not remain so without constant vigilance.

She dismounted and lay on her back so that she could give her full attention to the hawk who rode the winds beyond the reach of her human vision.

"Friend or foe?" Brelathan demanded.

"I cannot tell yet. But it is only a small party -- less than a dozen."

Rhoz closed her eyes again, trying to ignore the squeaking leather of Brelathan's boots as he paced back and forth. She let herself sink deeper into Astyanace's consciousness, guiding her closer to the newcomers. When the hawk's sharp eyes were able to distinguish faces, Rhoz leaped to her feet with an exclamation of delight.

"It's Lyn!" She jumped onto Panax's back, almost sliding off his other side in her eagerness, and thundered towards the highway with Brelathan in hot pursuit. Sablefyre's longer legs soon caught up and stretched past them. The visitors had already dismounted to exchange greetings with Brelathan when Panax skidded to a stop.

"You look like a wild centaur!" Alyn cried out in the tongue of Dys, laughing and holding out her arms as Rhoz slid from her pony's back. Panax sniffed Alyn curiously as she held Rhoz close.

"Oh -- this is the best birthday present I could have! I was beginning to think I would never see you again!" Rhoz exclaimed in her own tongue, tears stinging her eyes.

"So was I." Alyn switched to Akynadarian and spoke rapidly into Rhoz ear. "Those jittery nobles of the Conclave of Kyra cannot see their way clear to relieving me of the burden of being their Battle Queen! They still hope to force father's abdication and put me in his place. The Vacina Calchis arrived at just the right moment. She helped to persuade them that my presence was indispensable at the parley table, if only to ensure trustworthy translations."

Alyn turned towards the other members of the party for formal introductions. "Akyna Rhoz Inteza Minor, I present to you Lord Amech, Peregret's newly appointed ambassador to Dys, and the Vacina Calchis, Vacinatrix Princeps of Helion."

Rhoz greeted Lord Amech with the ceremonial salutation of Peregret, returning his bow with a gracious nod of her head. Then she turned to face the Vacinatrix Princeps, Chief Prophetess and de facto ruler of Helion.

The Vacinatrix pulled back the hood of her midnight blue travelling cloak bordered with flying hawks embroidered in silver. Her bony face was dominated by icy aquamarine eyes that glittered on each side of a misaligned, battle-scarred nose. Her intricate braids of pale silver-frosted gold lay close to her head like a shining helmet from which not a single hair might dare escape. Her male translator, clad in sky blue and silver livery, stood at her shoulder like a statue.