Khisanth turned back halfway and laughed ironically. "I'd say it was already worth your while, since I'm one of the only two dragons you still have on your side."
"Thanks to you, that's true enough." Maldeev blinked in disbelief at the dragon's gall.
Khisanth didn't flinch from his reproach. "Once I learned of the betrayal, I did what I thought best to minimize the damage." Her eyes narrowed as she added, "If their human riders had been the least bit perceptive or intelligent, the dragons couldn't have plotted without their knowledge."
It was Jahef s turn to flinch. Khisanth had unwittingly laid bare the unspoken crux of the tension between Jahet and Maldeev. Why hadn't his commanders known? Why hadn't she known, as the leader of the dragons? It didn't help that Khisanth had obviously avoided implying the latter about her friend. The question was obvious.
The conversation's turn made Maldeev uncomfortable as well. "Clearly, their human commanders were inferior. As you well know, they've paid the price."
Khisanth did know. She and Jahet had been given the honor, for the amusement of the remaining troops, of tearing apart second-in-command Wakar and the other two officers, including Dimitras, in a dragon tug-of-war on the drill field.
Maldeev arched one brow at Khisanth. "Surely, you don't risk my wrath-twice-simply to point out my faults." Jahet
knew his calm tone of voice meant Maldeev was far angrier than if he'd shouted.
"No," Khisanth agreed, nodding once. "I've come to tell you both that I've decided to comply with your request to take a rider."
The announcement hung in the air between all three of them for several moments. Finally, Maldeev turned away and busied himself stirring the fire. "Fine," he said. "I've selected several for you to choose from. I'll arrange for you to interview them immediately."
"I will not."
Maldeev looked up.
"My compliance with your ultimatum has two conditions. First, I will choose my rider entirely on my own, and in my own time. Second, you'll guarantee my position as second-in-command to Jahet from this moment on."
"Thaf s extortion," fumed Maldeev.
Khisanth's expression was mild. "That's a narrow way of viewing it. As I see it, my proposal allows each of us to get what he wants."
"What would prevent you from delaying the decision for shy;ever, once you're handed the position you've long coveted?" Maldeev demanded.
"It is not in my interest to do so," was Khisanth's unnerv-ingly calm response.
Maldeev was about to argue further when Jahet leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I've said before that self-interest is a black dragon's only motivation. Go ahead and agree. Once we replace the other dragons, we can always renege if we need to."
Maldeev clenched and unclenched his fists. He didn't like being squeezed into making any decision. Yet he was intelli shy;gent enough to see the value in this-and even to add wit and pluck to Khisanth's long list of attributes.
"All right," the highlord growled at last. "You shall have this your way." He squinted up at her. "See that I'm not dis shy;appointed."
Just then, Maldeev's new second-in-command cleared his throat loudly just outside the door. "Sir," he called, without stepping in to intrude, "the wall sentries have spotted the draconians approaching from the northwest."
"Excellent, Salah Khan." Maldeev nearly smiled, but man shy;aged only a joyous scowl. Initially, the highlord had dreaded the arrival of these odd and grotesque mutations of Good dragon eggs. He was of the old military school. They'd had no magic, dragons, or any of the other oddities of modern warfare. Combat then was between men on foot or horse shy;back, with swords and clubs. But now, with his troop num shy;bers so low, he welcomed the injection of strength. Draconians were rumored to be exceptionally strong.
The highlord snatched up his trademark mask from the back of the enormous throne and pulled it down low over his face, to end at his collar. Rubbing his hands together, Mal shy;deev strode eagerly toward the courtyard, his hobnailed boots pounding across the floorboards. Without turning his head, he called back to the dragons, as if he'd just remem shy;bered them, "Come along and review my new troops."
The two dragons looked at each other before following at some distance. "You've certainly had a change of heart," said Jahet. Her conversational tone sounded tight, forced. "Did your mysterious disappearance from the battlefield have anything to do with this metamorphosis?"
Khisanth well knew that rumors and speculation were rampant on the subject. She had no interest in or concern with quelling them. There was something mystical-pro shy;phetic, even-about her journey to the Abyss and the Queen of Darkness, something that made Khisanth want to hug the details to herself.
"I've had an awakening, yes," said the newly appointed second-in-command. "You could even take a measure of credit for talking me into it," she added. "Make no mistake, though. My goals have not changed, simply my route to them. I intend to play an important role in returning the dragons to rule."
"Does that important role require you to step on me?"
Khisanth heard her friend's thinly disguised suspicions. "I
think there'll be enough positions for all dragons worthy of serving our queen."
They caught up with Maldeev then at the far southern edge of the drill field, and both fell into an unusually strained silence. At least the rain had stopped.
"There they are," breathed Maldeev with near reverence, pointing to the endless stream of creatures marching against the gray sky. Their formation was tight, a narrow ribbon in the grassy northwestern foothills, made greener by the day's rain. The beleaguered highlord could scarcely contain his excitement at the sight of the approaching dragon men.
Maldeev had never before seen a draconian, let alone met one. His awed tones were based solely on the draconians' reputation as the meanest, most fearless and indestructible fighting creatures ever known. They were also known to be fond of ale and spirits, which made them especially sadistic. Heeding the advice of the Red Wing commander with whom he'd arranged delivery of the draconians, Maldeev had removed all spirits from the reach of the troops. The human rank and file had grumbled in protest, but Maldeev sus shy;pected they'd all agree once they encountered a drunken dra shy;conian, as would inevitably happen, despite his best efforts.
The sounds of shuffling troops on the move got louder as the dragon men approached. Now Maldeev could clearly see the face of Horak, the human with whom Maldeev had exchanged missives. The Red Wing commander would join the Black Wing to lead the draconian forces in the upcoming war. Horak's back was ramrod straight in his bright plate mail. Poking through the narrow openings in his imposing great helm were wayward tendrils of copper-colored hair. Horak had a quill-thin, carrot-colored mustache and slight beard that was likely the result of many days on the trail.
Raising high a banner on his pike, which still held the sym shy;bol of Ariakas's Red Wing, Horak signaled his troops to halt some two hundred yards from where Maldeev and his imposing black dragons waited. The armored horseman spurred his black gelding in the ribs and galloped swiftly up to Maldeev, kicking clouds of choking dust up from the field.
Horak pivoted to stop as if on a steel piece. He pushed his helm back so that its face rested atop his red head.
"Field Commander Horak," he said crisply. His gelding pranced fitfully after the long trek. "I'm pleased to report that we lost only eleven of five hundred twenty-three draconians in two hundred miles, due mainly to infighting. The rigors of trail life seem to bring out the worst in them."