Page 6 of Dragon Valley
“Well met, chief. Thank you for receiving us. It’s an honor.” A hint of a smile twitched at Captain Aron’s lips. “We speak the same language. That at least, is a relief.”
“You’re using military rank and titles,” Chief Rhazel observed. “Are you leading an army into my valley, Captain?”
Every Rider stiffened and behind us, our dragons growled in return. If it was a fight they wanted, they had no chance.
“I am, chief,” the captain admitted. “But not as an attack or to provoke any kind of conflict. Your Riders have probably observed that my army isn’t exactly in top fighting shape. We have many sick, injured, and malnourished. To be perfectly frank, we’ve come humbly before you to ask for aid. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the nation of Tannia has been in a civil war for the past three years.”
“And why should I involve my land and my people in your war?” Chief Rhazel asked. “The clans of Dragon Valley and outside citizens of Tannia have a long, bloody history. We’ve both managed happily as separate nations for the past two decades. Why would I risk taking you in, given what has happened in the past?”
“I understand your reluctance, chief,” the captain replied. “But with all due respect, your people are going to get involved in this war sooner or later. It’s only by the grace of the Gods that we have come to you first, with hopes of diplomacy and putting our history behind us to forge a new relationship for the future. If it were the opposing side coming to you today, they would be in much better fighting shape with weapons and technology that could potentially take down a dragon. And they wouldn’t be interested in talking.”
Behind us, all of our dragons lifted their heads and roared. Personally insulted at having their power questioned, they beat their wings and slammed their tails on the ground with enough force to make sizable craters. Some of Captain Aron’s lieutenants flinched and raised their arms, but Aron and Caden remained calm and stoic.
“Our beasts can understand you perfectly as well, Captain,” Chief Rhazel said with a smug chuckle. “And they’re not happy with your claim. No human has successfully killed a dragon in centuries. What makes your enemy so powerful?”
“They’re the richest people in the nation,” Aron answered bluntly. “And their resources run far and wide. I can tell you they’re already testing weapons that can shatter dragon hide. If they’re successful in defeating us, they’ll come for you next and do whatever they can to draw you outside of your protective barrier.”
That seemed to sober Chief Rhazel’s mood. All smugness dropped from his face and deep furrows of concern replaced it. There was no humor or evasiveness in Captain Aron’s words, only blunt facts.
“So who are you and who are you fighting?” Chief asked. “What is this civil war all about? And I’d still like to know how helping you would benefit us.”
“I’d be happy to discuss all of that with you but with how long it would take, I’m afraid neither of us would be very comfortable standing here.”
He turned around and gestured to someone where the rest of the army held back. Two people sprung into action, carrying something large and unwieldy between them. They were breathing heavily by the time they reached us and dropped a large, wooden box on the grass. I could have climbed inside and stretched out easily. They opened the lid and Aron swept an arm over the contents.
“As a peace offering and gesture of good will, we’ve brought gifts for you to distribute as you see fit. Including charred animal sacrifices for the Dragon God.”
Azaria and her father exchanged curious glances. No outsiders had attempted to appease the Dragon God before.
At Chief Rhazel’s curt nod, us Riders gathered around the box to see inside. It was separated into two large compartments with cuts of freshly charred meat on one side and various gifts and small items on the other. Azaria immediately picked up a necklace and held it aloft, the round, multicolored stones casting different hues of light as she inspected it.
“What are these beads made from?” she asked.
“Those are called pearls,” Aron answered. “They were harvested from oysters, a shelled creature also used for food in Siren’s Bay. The black pearls are especially rare, I hear.”
She and I dug through the gift side of the box, while the men took the chunks of meat to the dragons for inspection. Dragons were known for being able to smell if gifts had pure intentions or if the gifters planned a betrayal.
“What are these?” I asked, holding up jars with what looked like dried herbs inside them.
“That’s tea,” Caden said, fixating his sky-blue gaze on me. “It’s a plant you dry up and soak in hot water for a few minutes. Then you drink that water. Different teas have different effects on your health.”
I wrinkled my nose. That didn’t sound appetizing. “How does it taste?”
“Depends on which one you use,” he said, a playful gleam in his eyes. “This one’s my favorite.” He dug through the box and pulled out another jar. “This one’s called chamomile.”
I squinted at the dried-up flowers in the jar. “I think that flower grows here in the valley. The dragons love eating it, believe it or not. We call it manzanilla.”
“Really?” A smile threatened to spread across his lips. “I can’t picture a dragon eating flowers of all things.”
“Oh, it’s like a drug to them,” I said. “They roll around in it, eat it, and act like idiots. At least mine does.”
“Which one’s yours?” His eyes flickered past me to observe our mounts just as they received the meat offerings.
“The little golden one near the back,” I said, pointing. “Her name is Dusa.”
With a victorious growl, Black Malak tore into the half cow he received. He lifted it in his jaws and swallowed it in a few gulps. Within seconds, the other dragons jumped forward to get a piece of the meat offered. Poor little Dusa would be lucky if she got a mouthful. At only ten years old, she was still a juvenile. The other dragons were all so much bigger than her.
“Our dragons and by association, the Dragon God is pleased with your offering. You will not be harmed when you cross the barrier,” Chief said when he returned to us. “Your other gifts are also very generous.” He met Captain Aron’s eyes with a steady, firm gaze. In that moment, he was the strong, diplomatic chief we all once knew. “You and your lieutenants are welcome guests in our home. We are willing to hear you, but make no promises yet regarding aid to your army.”
