Ethshar.
“Ah. Well, then, Dumery of Shiphaven, I have been known, and know myself as, Aldagon, which is in the speech of the lost ancients ’She Who Is Great Among Dragons,’ or so I was once told. Some have called me Aldagon of Aldagmor, but that strikes me ill, since the land’s named for me.”
“It is?” the boy asked, startled.
“Aye,” the creature said, “Aldagmor means clearly, the Mountains of Aldagon, and the Aldagon so named is myself. I was here ere this land had any name in our common tongue.” Aldagon turned its-or rather, her head slightly and squinted at Dumery. “Me seems we’ve wandered a field in our converse, lad. I was asking whence you came, and why, and we’ve rambled off to names and whatnot whilst I have no sound reply from you.”
Dumery said nothing-not because he was stubborn or reluctant, but only because he didn’t know what to say.
Aldagon let out a long, earth-shaking draconic sigh. “Speak, lad, tell me the tale entire, in whatever words and manner that you choose, but you tell it all. How came you here?”
Dumery hesitated, but then explained, in awkward and stumbling sentences, that he had wanted to see dragons, and that he had seen Kensher Kinner’s son in Ethshar, and had followed him home to the dragon farm. There he had asked for an apprenticeship, had been refused, and had left in despair, only to lose the trail and head south, cross-country, toward Ethshar.
That was the tale as he told it, and Aldagon accepted it. No mention was made of burglaries or witches.
“You sought dragons, you say, and indeed you’ve found a surfeit of them, I’d venture-first came you to that accursed and damnable farm, and now to my nesting, where you find us all.” She flexed a wing slightly to indicate the half-dozen young dragons huddled on the far side of the lair.
Dumery nodded.
“Me seems you have an unusual favoring of fortune, to chance upon so many. In truth, I am not often to be found here; my common dwelling is to the east, beyond the mountains, where I’m little troubled by your kind. I take pleasure in converse with humans, but alas, few care to join me so; the more likely occurrence, should I appear amongst them, is a flurry of spears or spells, flung hither and yon for fear of me.”
Dumery gulped, and ventured, “Well, you do eat people, don’t you?”
“Nay,” she replied, with a shake of her head, “I’ve not tasted man-nor woman, nor child-for these two centuries and more, not since the Great War ended.”
“Oh.” The idea that this creature had been around during the Great War seemed absurd at first, but then Dumery looked at it again. Aldagon was immense, her head alone a good bit bigger than a farmer’s wagon. She had certainly needed a very long time to grow to such a size.
And she was clearly old. Her scales were thick and overlapped each other heavily, while the edges were all worn smooth. Her teeth were huge, but they, too, looked worn.
And if she had really been around back then it made her claim that Aldagmor had been named for her more reasonable, too-Dumery was rather vague on the details, but he thought that Aldagmor, like most of the rest of Sardiron, might have been part of the Northern Empire, so it wouldn’t have had any name that ordinary people could use until after the war was won.
“Were you really around during the War?” he asked.
“Oh, aye, of course,” Aldagon said. “I was born and bred for the war, these four hundred years past. I was hatched on just such a farm as you saw, though not that very one-the Ethsharite forces had not penetrated so far in my time. I was trained from the egg to fight and fly in the service of the Holy Kingdom of Ethshar, against the minions of the Empire, and for a century I burned the towns and camps of the Northerners, slew their sorcerers and the sorcerous beasts sent against me, and devoured whatever Northern soldiery I could find. I took many a blow in that service, and with damnably little in recompense.”
“Really?” Dumery asked.
“Aye, really,” Aldagon said. “Oh, at first I was but a beast, rampaging where my masters sent me, at the behest of a half-trained fool whose hand-signs I had been made to recognize, but when I had at last learned to speak I began to operate more freely, to take orders too complex for a beast, to fetch back what news I could, and my masters sent me ever farther afield in pursuit of sundry military goals. And what did I ever receive for my pains, but shouted commands, scant provision-for they wanted me always hungry, the better to feed on the foe-and the occasional whack on the snout?”
Dumery made a wordless noise of sympathy. Aldagon nodded.
“At last I thought better of it,” she continued. “I betook me across these mountains, and made my home upon their eastern slopes, where I could dine in peace upon the abundant wildlife and the stray Northern patrol that ventured by.”
“And you’ve been there ever since?” Dumery asked.
“That I have, save when the whimsy takes me, and I stray back this way, seeking a taste of beef, or to rescue a handful of my fellows from that foul farm where you were turned away.” Again, Aldagon gestured toward the young dragons.
“Oh,” Dumery said. “They didn’t just escape?”
“Nay, I brought them forth-save that one hatchling, he of the black scales, who I found wandering the mountaintop behind the farm, lost and alone. I know not how he came there.” She made a motion with her neck and shoulders that bore an uncanny resemblance to a shrug.
“Oh,” Dumery admitted, “I think that was my fault.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Aldagon eyed Dumery with interest.
“Speak, child,” she said. “Tell me how you came to send this youngling roaming free.”
Dumery cleared his throat uneasily, stalling for time to think about what he wanted to tell this gigantic beast. Despite its oath, he still feared that if he said the wrong thing he might be roasted, eaten, or both-after all, a fit of temper would only need to last an instant for a dragon as large as this one to kill him.
“First,” he said, “tell me about rescuing the others.”
“There’s little to tell,” Aldagon said, lashing her tail slightly and sending dry bones and broken branches flying. “I came upon that farm in the waning days of the war, when I chanced to be flying over the area and saw dragons beneath. Mine is a lonely life, lad, so I descended, only to see that my fellows were penned up like beasts, as had I been in my youth. I realized that it was but another breeding farm, and paid it no more heed-I had no wish to interfere in the Ethsharitic war effort. But then came rumors of peace, and I wondered what was to become of dragons, when they were needed no more in the great conflict, so I took to flying over that establishment every few days. To my confusion, I saw few changes. Still were there dragons penned there, and still did humans tend them, and assist in breeding them, and watch carefully over the hatchlings. But in time I did notice that all was not as it had been. Many of the hatchlings were slain, and yearlings as well. Those that reached an age to be trained were not trained, but were slaughtered instead. Wings were broken, and broken again, and I know not why. It seemed to me that this camp had become a mere prison, with no sound reason to continue. I mused upon this, and considered what action I should take. The thought that I might destroy the establishment and free my fellows occurred to me, but I pursued it not-surely some sound and logical reason existed for its continuance, and had I obliterated it I might be doing great harm, in some way I failed to comprehend. I might well, I thought, by such an action, have given your fellow men reason to hunt me down and slay me-something that none ever troubled to seriously attempt, though my presence was widely known. I bothered few, and the task of exterminating me, while certainly within the abilities of your kind, was apparently deemed to be not worth the effort required. Had I destroyed the camp, though, perchance that had provided the impetus needed to send wizards against me with spells sufficient to the task.”
“Are there spells that could kill you?” Dumery asked.
“Oh, assuredly,” Aldagon replied. She continued, “Thus it was, though, that I knew of that iniquitous place, yet feared to demolish it. Instead, I ventured near, and snatched free one of the largest dragons, whilst no humans
