At that moment, a number of disparate bits of information came together for Vetch, like broken bits of a wine jar flying back together again and giving him the shape of the thing.
First—Ari had studied to be a scribe, and as a scribe, had been sent here to serve in the compound. A scribe was needed here, certainly, but he must have had a great deal of free time. Many Jousters could read and write on their own, and wouldn't need his services.
Second—Vetch recalled Ari had said that he had 'found' a dragon egg—and after all he had learned, Vetch couldn't imagine anyone climbing into a nest after a dragon egg! He already knew, of course, that Ari's education had been cut short before he could be recruited into one of the Temples. He had thought that it was because Ari had hatched Kashet, but what if he had things back-Ward, that Ari had been bound over to work here first, and only after serving as the compound's junior scribe and learning all he could about dragons, had he hatched Kashet?
Third—Vetch had the key fact that he had not known before this, that a Jousting dragon had escaped to mate and lay eggs at least once before today. That changed the shape of his speculations, entirely.
Ari must have served here and become interested in the dragons for their own sake, then perhaps he rose to become one of Haraket's helpers, either in his capacity as scribe or because of his interest in the dragons and their ways; that would account for the unspoken bond between the men.
But more times than not, any boy in training to be a scribe ended up attached to a temple, not attached to the Jousters' Compound. What had led to Ari's needing to leave his studies? Because he wasn't that old, yet he had been flying Kashet for years—so he had to have hatched Kashet while he was in his teens. So he couldn't have truly finished his education as a scribe.
Unless perhaps he had been attending one of the temple schools, when his family fell on hard times and could no longer pay for the schooling. Hadn't he said once that he was the youngest boy, and it was his uncle who was the head of the household? He had—he'd said his uncle, also a scribe, had made Ari's mother his second wife after Ari's father died.
Yes; that must have been it. All the pieces fell neatly into place. Vetch could picture it in his mind's eye. Ari's father sending him to school, dying, leaving his widow and son to be supported by his uncle, who eventually married her. Then, the additional strain of a second wife and children on the family finances forced Ari to become a 'common' scribe before his education was complete, and he took a position here in the Jousters' Compound. Ari must have gotten hold of a fertile egg from one of those chance matings, perhaps from the dragon of a Jouster he had served as a scribe, or gotten directly from Haraket as an experiment, or perhaps just because he'd been bold enough to take one before they put it on the midden.
Vetch knew better than to blurt out his conclusion, though. Nor did he blurt out his reaction—that what Ari had done, he, Vetch, could do. 'You should rest, Master,' was what he said instead. 'Your room is ready; Haraket has already seen to that.'
'And whatever Haraket sent you to tell me originally is now of minimal importance, compared with the impact all of this will have on affairs in the entire compound,' Ari said, and shook his head, crossly. 'Evil spirits plague Reaten with boils! I'll have to take his patrols now, doubtless, while he lies abed, being made much of by all his noble friends!'
Then, perhaps, he bethought him of what Vetch had told him, and his irritation eased a little. 'Or perhaps not. It's an interesting thing with noble friends; when your star is rising they are all for standing near you and bathing in your reflected glory. But when your star falls, no one can escape from your vicinity fast enough.'
Vetch just nodded; agreeing was harmless enough, but he must not say anything that could be construed as criticism of his masters.
Ari patted Vetch on the head. 'Get Kashet an extra treat; you know, bullock hearts, if there are any. He more than deserves them. Then go to the kitchen and tell them I want my dinner in my room.'
'Haraket's seen to that, sir,' Vetch said. 'And he said something about a hot bath and a massage slave.'
Now Ari smiled, just a little. 'Good old Haraket! Well, I'll take him up on all of it; I'm for a cool swim first, in the Atet pool, and perhaps after that I'll feel less like strangling Reaten, then finding Horeb, ripping off his arm, and beating him to death with it.' The corners of his mouth turned up a little more. 'After all, it would be ill-done of me to deprive both the Commander of Dragons and Haraket of that privilege.'
He levered himself up off the edge of the sandpit, and as he stalked off out of the pen, Vetch noticed that he was favoring one leg. He must have injured it somehow—either in the rescue, or when he and Kashet were bringing Coresan to earth. Typical of him not to have mentioned it.
Haraket will have had a massage slave sent, he remembered. And perhaps that will help.
Vetch did as he was told, and while he was getting Kashet's treat, he heard that, not unexpectedly, the request for someone to bring Ari his supper and someone else to see to a massage nearly brought on a fight among the servants over who was to have the honor. Ari's very self-effacement in not lingering to be made a hero of, had had the effect of making him more of a hero than he would have been if he had stayed about to preen rather than bringing Coresan in. Or at least that was true among the servants. What those wealthy spectators had thought of Ari's heroic efforts today—well, Vetch couldn't begin to guess.
But there was another repercussion to all of this. When Vetch went back to the butchers to return the barrow for Kashet's feed and his treat, there was a drama being enacted right in the center of the court.
