The Return of the Dragonhawk

Chapter 51 - Ohar and Axen

"What think you?" Alyx asked Ghugo Faraight as the first of the new banners bearing the Ohar and Axen was unfurled.

They were sitting stirrup to stirrup at the edge of the parade ground near Draklunys, where the dais had once again been erected, this time for a celebration of the birth of the New Alliance. The land was in the full flower of spring, and thousands had gathered to gape at the dragon who sat on the dais, giving the appearance of being in charge of the preparations.

"Very handsome," Ghugo said, "though there was no need to give Eelor Kato its independence."

"Better a loyal ally than a treacherous slave," Alyx said.

"Where did you gather that piece of dubious wisdom?"

"I made it up myself."

"Your libertarian ideas will be the undoing of you some day, mark my words!" Ghugo said. "Common people need a firm hand to guide them, for they cannot see beyond their own bellies."

Alyx' face clouded for a moment. "I have seen the fruit of oppression," he said softly. "I want to be remembered for something more."

"And you will be, never fear," Lothar growled on his left side. "When you are old, you will put all your sayings in a great book, and pompous priests will call it a new revelation and misinterpret it for generations to come."

Alyx grinned. "And you?"

"I will continue to sire sons and daughters, and have more grandchildren and great-grandchildren than anyone can count."

Their conversation was drowned out by the cheering as the Ohar and Axen rippled in the wind. Alyx gazed at the banner, his throat tight. Perhaps he was dreaming, and he would awaken on the hard ground somewhere in the woods with his ragtag raiders around him and the old bitterness gnawing in his heart.

"Come." Ghugo plucked his sleeve. "Our presence is required in the Great Hall."

Alyx started, wondering how long he had sat musing. The wedding! How could he have forgotten the wedding, even for an instant?

He pulled Blizzard around and set him cantering towards Draklunys. The fresh spring breeze against his face, laced with the scent of wild hyacinths, removed all doubt as to the reality of the moment. He laughed out loud and pressed Blizzard's sides, sweeping up to the base of the mountain at breakneck speed.

His dearest friend would wed today, with his beloved Rhoz standing by her side. Drawn by the Azure Dragon's promise that she would stand in his fire on her wedding day, Alyn had returned to Dys with Acontis to plight her troth. No grand state wedding this, but a simple ceremony among friends, following an ancient rite of Helion, from the time when men and women bound themselves together as equals.

Blizzard charged up the mountain, slowing his pace as the slope steepened. As so often happened when he was riding, Alyx became homesick for the feel of Dragonfyre between his thighs, and resolved to visit the Dragonhold again as soon as the ambassadorial solemnities were over.

The gate to Draklunys stood open for a steady stream of traffic. A small knot of onlookers had gathered in one corner of the courtyard, where a man was beating a boy with a whip. The youngster was kneeling with his back to Alyx, keeping heroic silence as the lash rose and fell upon his shoulders. Lord Trevolta stood watching with an expression of delight that turned Alyx' stomach. He kneed Blizzard forward and leaped to the ground, grabbing the tormentor's wrist. It was only then that he realized that the victim was none other than Donn.