For not just anyone could train the young hatchlings that way. The gosling hadn't followed any human as its mother, it had only followed Vetch. No, that task would have to be taken on by the Jouster who meant to fly that particular dragon. Which meant that the Jouster could not be fighting at the same time, because bringing in regular meals to keep a baby dragon's belly full would be a full-time job. As well as the cleanup, afterward.
Not that Vetch particularly wanted to see more Jousters in the air; not when they were leading the fight against his people…
It made him feel very queasy inside, to be reminded of that. Here he was, serving the enemy—
—not that he had a choice.
Not if he wanted to live, eat—not, in particular, if he wanted to do more than eke out a miserable existence.
He shook his head a little. Too many complicated things! he told himself fiercely, redoubling his efforts on the saddles. And what was the point of thinking about it, for what could he do? He was only a little boy. No matter what he did, no matter what became of him, nothing in the greater world would change. The war would still go on, and Ari would just find another boy for Kashet.
Shobek came over at that moment to inspect what he'd done, and grunted his satisfaction with the work.
Vetch noticed then that the other boys were putting their work aside for Shobek to inspect and gather up. Some he nodded over, some he scolded for shoddy workmanship. 'You'll only get it to do over again tomorrow,' he said crossly, as one of the boys looked sullen. 'Haven't you gotten that through your thick skull yet? Well?'
'Yes, Shobek,' the boy replied.
'Then if you don't want to keep seeing the same job on the same saddle again, over and over for the rest of your life, do it right tomorrow!' He looked around at the rest of the boys, whose attitude had changed, and who all looked eager to be gone from there. 'Well, off with you.'
They were off, like a shot. Vetch didn't know what to do, but he was saved from having to ask by the arrival of Haraket.
'You, Kashet's boy—remember that you are to come here right after pen cleaning after the noon meal,' the old man said, as Haraket took possession of him. 'Remember! Every day!'
'Yes, sir—' he called back over his shoulder, though he wasn't certain the old man heard him, for a new crop of six or eight boys came crowding in to fill the small room.
'Now,' Haraket said, as he led Vetch down a corridor decorated with royal hawks, the token of the god Haras. 'You will learn what it means to serve your Jouster as well as your dragon.'
VERY shortly, Vetch had a good idea where he was. They had gone this way earlier, in Vetch's whirlwind tour of the compound. This corridor, where the Temple of Haras also stood, marked, in fact, by the images of the god Haras, led to the Jousters' private quarters. This place wasn't so difficult to find his way around in after all!
The Jousters' importance would have been evident even to someone who didn't know what they were, just by virtue of the wall decorations on this corridor. Rather than simple carved images at the intersections of other corridors, the walls here were adorned with stunning, brilliantly colored paintings of the god Haras, in his falcon- headed human form, in his falcon form, in his form of Haras-re, the falcon of the sun. These paintings were huge, covering the entire wall, from top to bottom, and Vetch had never seen anything like them for sheer beauty. Certainly nothing could compare to them, even in the Temples he had been in. If this was what the corridor outside the Jousters' quarters looked like, what must the palace of the Great King be like? Were his paintings not paintings at all, but inlaid with precious materials?
They ended up at the doorway arch leading to the Jouster's quarters. This was a very large opening, with the royal hawks carved into the limestone wall in bas-relief on either side, and a third hawk with wings spread wide carved over the lintel, all so incredibly painted he expected them to spring to life at any moment.
