When the buffeting had ceased, Vetch looked up; Coresan was a tiny figure against the hot blue sky, still climbing, and still under control, back to her old self, but with a superior level of obedience as far as Vetch could tell. He glanced over at Haraket, who smiled with satisfaction.
'I think he'll do,' the Overseer said aloud, and there was no mistaking the pleasure in it. 'We'll see how Reaten does with Beskela.'
Vetch's mouth dropped open at that. Beskela! The male was the oldest dragon in the compound, so old that the blue of his main color had deepened to near-black! If there was a lazier dragon here, Vetch had yet to hear about it. He had gotten rotated back to the new lot of Jousters because his old Jouster had been killed by a lucky arrow from an archer on the ground, and Beskela had elected to return to the compound rather than fly off to freedom as nearly any other dragon would have.
And that was a measure of how lazy he was. Beskela had learned the most key of lessons, which was where the food came from. He knew that—unlike the case of a dragon in the wild, who, when he failed make a kill, didn't eat—in the compound, meals arrived on time and in full supply whether a dragon exerted himself to the fullest or not. Beskela liked captivity, so long as no one made him work too hard. And it was rather difficult to force a creature the size of a dragon to do much of anything it didn't want to.
Vetch hid his smirk behind his hand. If there was ever a Jouster who deserved being assigned to Beskela, it was Reaten. Patrols would take twice as long to compete as Beskela lounged his way through the sky, and Reaten could pretty much forget about the Gold of Honor, for at the first sight of a fight in the offing, Beskela would do his best to keep as far away as possible from the combat. Failing that, he would hold back, and shy off every time his Jouster tried to close in. That was assuming he didn't flee altogether, refusing to answer the guide reins.
Oh, yes, this was certainly a case of the right chickens coming home to roost.
On the other hand, if a Jouster couldn't master a dragon like Coresan, at least with Beskela he could get patrolling done and wouldn't get anyone else in trouble.
Vetch went back to work, his jealousy fading. Coresan had a good Jouster, it seemed, one of whom Haraket approved. For that, he was grateful. Coresan was no Kashet, but he had been getting rather fond of her.
Still, it rankled, to be treated as if he was nothing more than a mobile saddle rack, and otherwise ignored.
When Coresan came back in, it was very clear that her new Jouster was going to continue ignoring Vetch, and it was only because he had gotten to like Coresan that Vetch didn't go straight to Haraket and demand to be put back on his old duties, serving Ari only. This was like the treatment he had gotten from the other dragon boys, only worse. Why, he didn't even learn the Jouster's name for three days, and then only discovered it when he overheard another Jouster asking, 'Well, Neftat, and how do you like our prime virago, Coresan? Or do you wish you had Beskela back?'
Neftat asked him nothing about Coresan—though he did examine every inch of her every time he took her out. He continued to act as if Vetch was a mere convenience, of no import except that he kept the dragon fed, watered, clean, and comfortable.
Still, he treated Coresan well, and paid as much heed to her moods as an attentive lover would have. She was out of shape, and he was putting her back in shape on a reasonable schedule, being neither too demanding nor too lax. He was a good rider for her.
But.
Finally, he couldn't stand it. He went to Haraket.
But once he got the Overseer's attention, he hesitated. How could he, a mere serf, complain about a Jouster?
He decided that it wouldn't be a complaint, exactly.
'Overseer,' he said, choosing his words with the greatest of care, 'What is my—my relationship to be to Coresan's Jouster?'
'Relationship?' Haraket asked, with a lifted brow. 'None, and I told him as much. You aren't Coresan's boy— you're Kashet's. I don't want him giving you orders that may conflict with something Ari's asked you to do, so I told him to leave you alone while I find Coresan a good boy.'
Suddenly, Vetch was very glad that he hadn't voiced an actual complaint, for he would have looked very stupid. 'Thank you, Overseer,' he said, with utmost politeness. 'I—ah—wasn't sure what I should be doing, with regard to Jouster Neftat.' And he bowed properly, and got out of Haraket's way as quickly as he could, thanking the gods that he had learned to think before he blurted something out. How much less trouble he would have been in, if only he had kept his mouth shut over the years! He took care to smile at Neftat from then on, even if the latter didn't appear to take any notice.
At least with both Coresan and Seftu back on patrol, Ari could stop doing double-duty. Vetch had the idea that he was sleeping a good deal. Certainly Kashet was!
Haraket was as good as his word, too. By the time the planting season was over, in fact, within a moon,
