Page 19 of Consorting with Dragons

I turned and signaled Captain Brodor, my second in command, who was watching us closely from the gangway. He knew all about the voracious appetites of hatchlings, as he had a dragon of his own, and he had a quick word with one of his aides. We had set some meat aside for him, just in case.

The crewman sprinted back up to the ship to get the food for the hatchling. The vetamis were carnivores, so even though he was small, he still had sharp teeth and claws for hunting and tearing apart his food, along with strong jaws and a heavy skull to help him grind bones.

“We’re getting you something,” I said, kneeling down to his level and addressing him directly.

He nodded, forgiving me a little and began licking one of his paws.

“In the meantime, perhaps you’d like to come with me?” I asked him. “You can eat something, and I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

He looked up at me inquiringly.

“Your new rider,” I said gesturing at my helmsman, Lt. Worving, who was standing on the gangway, staring at us with fascination. “He’d very much like to meet you.”

The little dragon flicked his gaze toward my Rider and looked him up and down.

“No. I stay here,” he said, showing absolutely no interest in anyone else, and he put his little head down on Rylan’s chest.

It was important not to upset a hatchling, and I knew how stubborn they could be, but I tried again. Obviously, this was an untenable situation—the dragon seemed to have chosen Rylan. But Rylan wasn’t any kind of Dragon Rider. He wasn’t even Horvathian. I sat back on my heels and tried to come up with some idea that might help me lure the little dragon away, but I couldn’t think of a thing. It was a catastrophically bad situation, because not only was he a beautiful little dragon, with a unique color we hadn’t seen before, but he also had a talent for speaking and communicating that we needed to study. If we could somehow enhance all of our dragons’ abilities to communicate as easily and clearly as this, it would be an innovation that could have a huge effect on our training programs and our battle plans.

I felt a little paw land on my chest and looked up into those black, shiny eyes, only a few inches from my face. He hadn’t left Rylan’s lap but had turned his head toward me.

“I need something to eat.” He dug his little claws into my chest just the tiniest bit, and I could see he was quickly losing patience—and seemed to blame me.

“Of course. I’ll check on it. It should be coming soon.” I turned my head to call to my second. “Captain Brodor! Where’s the food for the hatchling?”

“Checking on it, sir,” I heard him yell, but I never took my eyes away from the little vetami. They could be very unpredictable, even this small, and they were born with a fullset of those sharp, carnivorous teeth that could just as easily rip into my chest as into the food that was supposed to be coming. It was important not to show any fear of them, so I covered his little paw with my hand, prepared to yank it away if he dug those claws in any deeper.

But Rylan spoke up, drawing his attention. “Be careful, dear, and don’t hurt the Marshal General. Your food is coming soon, so you must be patient.”

Almost instantly, the claws retracted, and the hatchling pulled back his paw. “I wasn’t going to hurt him,” he said, turning his head toward Rylan. “He’s nice and he said he’d get me food. I was just reminding him a little.”

“Oh, I see. Well, you’re very clever to think of it, in case he had forgotten, but it’s not good manners to touch someone without asking them first. Especially with those sharp claws of yours. They’re very impressive and pretty and really sharp.”

He preened at the praise Rylan was giving him but began to pout a little too. “But I touched you, andyoudidn’t mind.”

“That’s true, but you were worried and just being kind. And you had your pretty claws retracted. That was a really sweet thing to do. It was just the claws that you shouldn’t have threatened the nice officer with. And you should always say please and thank you. Why don’t you tell him you’re sorry?” He was petting the hatchling’s head as he gently reprimanded him, and the little dragon actually preened, like he was proud of himself. Gods, Rylan was good with him, but this was quickly getting out of hand.

“I like you,” The hatchling said, nuzzling his face into Rylan’s chest again. He turned to look at me. “And you too. I’m sorry, but I do hope they hurry. Um…please.”

Captain Brodor laid a hand on my shoulder then after that remarkable little speech, and I turned to see a huge chunk of raw meat attached to what looked like part of a leg bone from awild bovid, one of the mountain animals with the long, curved horns we called agoral. It should fill the little hatchling up and the bone should keep him busy a while. I slowly got to my feet and motioned for Brodor to lay the haunch of meat on the ground where I’d been sitting, and as soon as he did, the dragon jumped down from Rylan’s lap and hunched over it, growling his pleasure. I quickly held out a hand to draw Rylan to his feet. The vetami glanced over at us but went right back to his meal.

“We need to talk,” I told Rylan in a soft voice, and he nodded quickly. “But you need to go inside. I’ll come to you as soon as I have him settled.”

“Should I tell him I’m leaving and going in?”

“Yes, but please tell him you’ll see him again soon. I don’t want to upset him. Can you make it back to the chair on your own?”

“Yes.”

Rylan got to his feet, wincing a little in pain, which caused the hatchling to glance up at him. Rylan smiled at him and said, “It’s okay. I’m fine. But I need to go inside for a while so I can rest. I’ve been sick, you see. But I’ll visit you again very soon.”

The dragon tipped his head to the side, but finally lowered it to his food again, which was apparently a much greater priority. Rylan slowly backed away and sat down in his chair.

“Bring me a harness for him,” I told Brodor. “And Worving, you come over here and help me put it on him after he eats.”

“Yes sir,” Worving said and moved slowly, as he’d been recently trained to, so as not to startle the young dragon, over to where we stood watching the hatchling finish his meal. I could only hope it wasn’t too late for the dragon to accept Worving as his new rider. I had a sinking feeling that the hatchling had set his sights on Rylan. And that would be an unmitigated disaster.

Chapter Seven

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