trained by their peers instead. The ones that Fisk and Vetch met with the next day were all from the Great King's Palace, and the households of one or two of his nobles, and all were dog boys but one, who tended the Great King's falcons.
This was a much, much older boy, not even a boy, really, for he must have been at least seventeen or eighteen. And he proved to be a great surprise to all concerned.
Haraket brought them all to the pen containing a young dragonet of a rich golden-brown color, again roughly the size of a fully-grown bull, that had been chained in place and was ignoring the barrow full of meat within his reach. His eyes were furious, and even Vetch was taken aback by the intelligent rage that was in them.
But the older boy wasn't in the least fearful.
'So, this's a dragonet?' he asked, looking at the young beast measuringly. 'My lord Haraket, I asked to come here. I had some thoughts, you see, and I wanted to see if I was right. If you would let me?'
Much to everyone's shock, including Haraket's, he had come prepared with a novel approach to taming a young dragonet, and he was fully prepared to test it. When Haraket nodded, speechlessly, he looked immensely satisfied.
'Thank you, my lord,' he said. Then he simply walked into the pen with the young dragonet with great steadiness and aplomb, fixing it with a challenging gaze. This clearly took the young thing aback; as it fanned its wings wide in confusion, and backed away from him, the boy took three swift steps and a lunge, and popped a bag with a hole in it over the surprised creature's head. While it went rigid in surprise, he worked the hole around to where the dragonet's muzzle was, got the golden-brown muzzle poking out of the bag so the dragonet could breathe, and tied the bag's mouth around the dragonet's neck to keep it in place.
It went suddenly still, and Vetch and the others could see its muscles relaxing.
'Good,' the boy said with satisfaction. 'They are like falcons, then. My lord, falcons rely on sight, and I guess these beasts do, too. If they can't see, they don't fight you.' And he picked up a piece of tala-dusted meat and slid it along the dragonet's mouth, teasing the corner of the mouth until the jaws opened a little, then popped the juicy chunk inside.
There was a sound of surprise, then the mouth snapped shut and the throat worked.
By now, even the trainer was watching in shock. 'He hasn't eaten all day!' the man exclaimed.
The boy just shrugged. 'No more do some falcons, taken from the nest too old to decide that a man's just a funny sort of mother. This works with them, though we use a leather thing that we call a hood instead of a bag; 'tween the bag and tala, they'll tame in a week, I guess, and maybe sooner.'
The trainer shook his head, though in amazement rather than disbelief. 'Let me get the others,' he said, and when he returned, it was with at least ten trainers. By that time, the rest of the boys had gathered around this older one, who was slowly feeding the dragon bits of meat, talking all the while in a calm voice.
'The falcons haven't the mind of these fellows,' he said, 'They just go straight into a trance when the hood's on their heads. Look! He's figured out already that I've got food, and now that he can't see me, he isn't afraid anymore, and his gut's telling him how hungry he is.'
Sure enough, the dragonet no longer had his jaws clamped shut; as soon as he swallowed the last bit, he gaped again for the next one to come.
'He's not in a trance, but as long as he can't see me, it's not so bad for him,' the young man continued. 'He's hungry enough that he'll put up with my voice so long as he keeps getting fed. Now, if I were the one in charge, that's what I'd say to do; treat them like young eyases, keep them hooded for the next couple of days, only feed them when they're in the hood, and after a couple of feedings, start to handle them all over between each bite so they get used to hands as well as voices.'
'And then?' Haraket's voice boomed from behind Vetch.
'Then I'd make him skip a meal so he's good and hungry, then take the hood off, and make it pretty clear that if he doesn't take the food from me, he won't get any.' The young man seemed pretty sure of his course of action, and Vetch was quite impressed. 'Never had tala to use on falcons, but if it works like you say, lord, he may tame down in a day or two, not a week.'
'Try it, Baken,' Haraket ordered instantly. 'And if he tames as well as you say, you will be in charge of training these others. What's more, at the end of the year, if the training of dragonets and boys works out properly, I'll free you and you'll begin serving here at a freedman's pay.'
The young man's eyes gleamed in a way that Vetch understood perfectly well, and a wave of raw envy came over him that nearly made him sick. Freed! Haraket was going to free this boy! How much would Vetch do if only he could have freedom at the end of it—
But of course, he never would, never could.
'You won't get any Kashets out of this,' Baken warned. 'I've heard about that Kashet. At best, these dragons will be proper-tamed, like the best of the ones you've got.'
