Page 8 of Dragon Valley
I did my best to swallow it down as we approached their settlement. We had to convince them to allow our whole army to enter the valley to rest and recuperate. As we walked and observed our surroundings, I did some quick estimations. Just the southern end of the valley where we entered was big enough to set up a full camp. If they allowed us to stay a month, maybe two, we’d be well-fed and have enough injuries healed to have another fighting chance.
A woman fed logs and dried branches to a large, central fire pit as we walked up. Another rubbed spices and herbs onto piles of fish that looked partially boiled already. No sign of the chief. Or Nadiyah.
A young man pushed opened the animal-skin door of the largest structure circled around the fire. I recognized him as one of the Riders who stood next to the Chief. He was almost as tall as Aron, and built like a soldier. He looked just as strong as he was fast.
“Come in. Sit and eat as our honored guests.” He stood to the side and held the door open for us.
“Thank you.” Aron nodded to him before stepping inside. I did the same as I followed him in.
The building we stood in was like a tent but more reinforced. It was roomy and roughly circular in shape with a tall ceiling. Layers of animal skins stretched over a thick, supportive frame made of wooden beams. In the center, a small fire pit had been dug in the ground flanked by a primitive chimney directing the smoke up through a hole in the roof.
The floor was covered in soft animal furs that made me want to lie down and not wake up until the war was over. Chief Rhazel sat next to the fire on a cushion and gestured to two more cushions in front of him.
“Please, sit.”
Aron and I sat down and I produced the bottle of wine from under my arm.
“Chief Rhazel, we’re grateful for your hospitality and wish we could give more in return. Please accept this wine to enjoy with your meal that you’re so generously sharing with us.”
I glanced at Aron and he gave me a slight nod of encouragement. When I looked back at Chief Rhazel, his dark, weathered face was expressionless. My stomach began to sink. Did I do something wrong?
“Ahahahaha!”
The chief burst into booming, cackling laughter, slapping his thighs and nearly rolling off his cushion into the fire. I looked at Aron again but he seemed just as confused as I was.
“You outsiders,” the Chief gasped, wiping at his eyes. “Groveling like dogs to your masters.”
Aron’s face hardened. I saw and understood the flare of anger in his eyes. Our people were dropping like flies. We surrendered not only the last of our prized possessions, but our pride to seek aid from these people. And their leader was laughing at us.
“My father doesn’t mean to insult you,” said the Rider who invited us into the pavilion. “But we don’t subscribe to bribes or flattery. All the riches in the world won’t sway us into supporting you. We allowed you into our valley because our dragons sensed that you were honest and would not betray us. We are willing to listen because we are fair and just, contrary to what you may have heard.” That last statement was added snidely. “If the threat of your enemy is real, we want to know and be prepared.”
“We have no intention of bribing you. I apologize if we came across that way,” Aron replied. “Unfortunately, flattery and gifts is often how deals are made in our world. It’s customary for guests to bring gifts for a host. The wine is just a gesture of kindness and gratitude, not ass kissing.”
“Ass kissing,” Chief Rhazel chuckled. “I like that outsider expression.” He waved his hands erratically at his son. “Find some horns! We need something to drink the wine out of. And check on the food, I’m sure our guests are hungry.” He offered a smile to us. “You’ve arrived on a blessed day, outsiders. Tonight is a seasonal feast celebrating the fish swimming upstream to spawn. I hope you enjoy fish, but we have elk from a recent hunt as well if you don’t.”
“After months of stale bread and gnawing on chicken bones,” Aron smiled back, “we’ll feel like we’re feasting in the Gods’ Hall, I’m sure.”
The Chief’s son returned with hollowed out horns for us to drink out of and passed them out to us. The dark-haired female Rider and Nadiyah followed on his heels, carrying long, flat dishes piled with whole crispy fish, thick slabs of meat, loaves of flat bread, and various roasted vegetables. My stomach groaned audibly enough for the whole tent to hear.
“May I pour your drink, Chief?” Aron offered.
Chief Rhazel nodded, holding out his cup for Aron to pour. I noticed his wrinkled hands shook a little. When I glanced up, his son was scowling at me.
“Um, these are impressive horns,” I said, holding up my large cup to inspect. “They must have come from massive animals. Mountain goats?”
“Try again,” the chief’s son scoffed. “These are dragon horns.”
Of course. I should have known.
Nadiyah and the other woman placed the food in front of the fire and joined us on cushions in a semicircle. When they were situated with horns full of wine, Aron raised his high.
“To our gracious hosts and neighbors,” he said. “May this be the start of a long and prosperous relationship between our people.”
“To our ass-kissing guests,” Chief Rhazel cackled, eliciting snorts and chuckles from everyone. Then more solemnly, “May the Dragon God carry you on His back to the victory you seek.”
We all drank deeply, the momentary silence broken by Nadiyah.
“Ooh, this is good!” she declared, licking her lips. “It’s sweet.”
