The Return of the Dragonhawk

Chapter 35 -- The Burdens of Authority

Rhoz did not follow the crowd of spectators which moved around Praxenkyr's outer wall like a restless river, watching the progress of the mages below. She stood perfectly still, staring onto the battlefield. The taste of victory was like a bitter medicine hidden in a sweet to make it more palatable. It was good to know that she would sleep in her own bed again tonight, safe from the molestations of the enemy; but, as her excitement ebbed, her grief swelled. So much blood -- and for what?

It would better if the common folk refused to go to war, she thought. Then one man's lust for power and gain could not put the whole world out of joint.

She devoutly hoped that Halgrim had met his end with the Kasivir fleet. Nonetheless, she was inclined to agree with the Vacina Calchis that he was much too clever and resourceful for that.

She felt for her runestones, then remembered that they were still beside the bed with her signet ring, where she had left them before departing on her flight the night before. If only Alyx were by her side! He understood war, and would know how to comfort her. But he had undertaken new responsibilities.

Rhoz wondered how he was weathering the transition from Dragonkeeper to Magister. In Draklunys, his word was law as long as he lived, by virtue of his bloodline; but these children would challenge him to earn their respect.

She smiled the secret smile of a woman in love, forgetting everything but the wonder of her Alyx. She had seen a hitherto unknown side of him when he took charge of his pupils, firm and tender at the same time. He would be a better father than either Muktar or Abbelard.

Her daydream of a family of impossibly flawless children was abruptly shattered by the memory of her encounter with Alyx on the wall. He had seemed as remote as a stranger today. She had heard no trace of joy in his greeting. Rhoz! I have been looking for you. After that single cryptic sentence, uttered in a voice with the ragged edge of a broken sword, he had hardly spoken to her. 

 Did he resent her for taking action to save Praxenkyr while he slept? Or did he imagine that she meant to take advantage of her metamorphic abilities to escape Halgrim's trap? Or had she misinterpreted his curtness? His mind had most likely been preoccupied with his pupils and the upcoming lessons.

The flock of warrior hawks returned from their mission and wheeled towards the southern wall of Praxenkyr, seeking their human partners. Rhoz had never seen so many hawks flocked together. The ekketiren were larger than the message hawks: their claws were tipped with magically forged silver that was as strong as the finest steel and took an edge as sharp as a razor. These fierce raptors must be terrifying indeed when they dived into a man's face with their talons outspread.

A single hawk separated from the flock and winged towards Rhoz. She recognized her instantly, and held out her arms as if to embrace the bird as she landed on the parapet.

"Grandmother!"

You seem sad, Arabelle observed, fluffing her feathers.

"Alyx is angry with me -- or perhaps I just imagine he is."

That is something you must take up with him. If you have any doubts, do not let them fester.

"I thought our hearts would open to each other when we became bed partners, but it seems that we have drawn back instead."

Bodies can be joined in a twinkling, but melding souls is more complicated. You are both afraid to tell the truth, for fear of offending.

"Yes," Rhoz said in a low tone. "Everything was simpler when I thought we were going to die before the next sunset."