The Bond (Book 2) (47 page)

A young woman stood at the podium before the Council. It was Millinith. Gregor’s description had been accurate, though she looked younger than expected. She kept looking about, particularly at a door to the right. When she caught sight of Baronel, her eyes grew large. Glancing at the man, Lord Eldin thought he caught sight of a wink.

The banging of a gavel, thrice, announced the start of the meeting.

“You are Master Millinith?” The Chair, a woman who looked to be in at least her fiftieth year, sat at the center of the Council. Four members sat to her left, four to her right, and nine were seated in a row behind her.

“I am, madam Chair.”

“I see on the application that Lord Baronel is your sponsor?”

“That’s correct, madam Chair.” Baronel stood and smiled.

“You are Lord Baronel? Good.” Turning to Millinith, she said, “You have at least the requisite five Accepted, I assume?”

“We currently have eight, madam Chair.”

“Good, good. Now, owning to the nature of the guild, the Council will need to see several dragons.” She paused as the crowd began to murmur. “Saying the word ‘dragons’ makes me smile. I never thought to see one in my life.” She looked at Millinith. “I will get to see one, yes? And in fact, I will need to see at least four.”

Lord Eldin frowned. From what he’d heard, they had enough. So much for that avenue of interference.

“How about five, madam Chair?” Baronel’s smile, though not smug, was annoying none-the-less.

The crowd’s murmurs grew louder as two large doors at the left of the room opened. A boy and a dragon walked in, side-by-side.

“Aeron and Anaya, madam Chair.” The girl at the podium announced their names.

Lord Eldin watched as they walked to the center of the room. So that was Aeron and his dragon Anaya. The boy didn’t seem remarkable. The dragon, however, was impressive.

“Willem and Balam,” the girl continued. “Renata and Xochi. Jessip and Zolin. Fillion and Coatl.”

The murmurs, whispers and mutterings of the audience were so loud, now, that they nearly drowned the girl’s words.

“And the last of our current Accepted, Sharrah, Cheddar and Liara. Gregor is our healer.”

Lord Eldin grunted. His son looked older, but happy.

The gavel banged twice as the Chair tried to maintain control over the excited audience. “There will be order in here or I will have the room cleared!”

Looking back at the dragons, Lord Eldin could see why people were so out of sorts. Dragons were enormous.

A thought occurred to him, and he stood. “Are we safe in the same room with the dragons? Can we trust children to maintain control over those titanic beasts? And why were children even allowed to make pets of them?”

Gregor looked surprised to see him. “Father?”

Baronel turned, a frown on his face. “Eldin—”

The gavel banged. “Order!” After a glance at those who had spoken, the Chair turned her gaze on him. “Who are you?”

“I am Lord Eldin.”

She stared at him.

He bowed his head, slightly. “Madam Chair.”

“They are not pets.” The first boy, Aeron, spoke. “They are our partners, our companions.” The other children nodded.

The Chair glanced at the boy and then back at him. “I will not tolerate outbursts in my meeting, Lord Eldin. If you have a question, you will first ask to speak.”

“Yes, madam Chair.” He sat down.

No matter. The seed had been planted. And there were still the three craft guilds that had been persuaded not to support Baronel.

The Chair returned her attention to the Millinith girl.  “Have your dragons had any offspring?”

“No, madam Chair, they are not yet of reproductive age.”

“I see.” After shuffling through papers in front of her, she said, “Your petition for Magic Craft as your primary has been approved by their guild.”

Lord Eldin looked up at Baronel. “Magic Craft?” he hissed.

“Dragons are creatures of magic,” Baronel murmured. “They can cast spells. Naturally, Magic Craft came to mind.”

So, they had a primary craft. That wouldn’t matter when it came time for the vote. He had hoped to sway the Council’s opinion against children consorting with dragons even more with the newspaper article, but that hadn’t quite gone as planned. Still, as this was a guild application, Baronel needed a secondary supporting craft. What would he do for that?

“Let us see. Your secondary petition was for Healing Craft.”

Preposterous! Lord Eldin started to stand and protest.

“Alas, it was declined.”

Thank the gods. He sat back down. How could Healing Craft possibly be tied to dragons anyway? A glance at Baronel revealed that he wasn’t smiling any more.

“May I ask why it was declined?” Millinith said.

The Chair turned to someone in the row behind her. “Representative?”

When the Animal Craft representative stood—Lord Eldin recognized her from the sketches—Millinith took in a sharp breath.

“It was declined,” the representative said, “because
we
wish to be secondary.”

What? Lord Eldin sat forward. Why would they—

“Caryn?” Millinith seemed to know the woman.

“Representative Caryn, if you please.” Turning to the Chair, she said, “Can the application be modified to reflect Animal Craft as secondary?”

“Indeed it can.”

Lord Eldin looked from one to the other. What was going on here? Standing, he said, “Madam Chair, if I may ask a question?”

“Questions and comments from the public are welcome and are an important part of the approval process.” The Chair stared at him. “As long as they are pertinent. What is your question, Lord Eldin?”

“It’s for Representative, ah, Caryn, was it?” He turned to her. “Why is the Animal Craft Guild supporting this effort? Aren’t dragons direct competition for horses, mules, and such? Their delivery escapade should have proved that. If anything, I would think your guild would oppose it.”

“It was you!” Gregor looked at him. All of the children by the dragons and even Millinith turned to him. “You’re the one who worked against us.”

The disbelief and betrayal in his son’s eyes cut Lord Eldin deeper than he expected.

“Control yourself, young man.” The Chair stared at Gregor until he nodded. Turning to the Animal Craft representative, she said, “What of Lord Eldin’s question?”

Representative Caryn looked at the dragons a moment and said, “If you’d seen how they worked with the mail couriers delivering the horse vaccine on that ‘escapade,’ you’d understand. Besides, if they were competition, why would they have helped? No, dragons are something else entirely.”

“They’re something else, alright.” Lord Eldin looked at the enormous beasts. “Dangerous.” He glanced at the Investigation and Smith representatives. They were both staring at the dragons, nodding in agreement. Perhaps all was not lost.

“Do you have another question, Lord Eldin?”

“No, madam Chair. Not at the moment.” He sat.

Unlike a business, only two votes were required to decline a guild application. Lord Eldin allowed himself a tiny smile.

“The main requirements seem to have been met.” The Chair gathered the papers before her, and after a couple of taps on the table, set the neat pile down. “Barring questions from the guild representatives, or more from the public, all that remains is the vote.”

Lord Eldin crossed his arms. Yes, let’s move on to that. Baronel wore a smug expression again, but it would be wiped from his face soon.

The Chair addressed Millinith. “One of the responsibilities of this august body when considering a guild application, perhaps its most important responsibility, is determining whether the proposed guild’s members and the public at large will be safe. Safe from whatever activities the guild will be involved in.”

Lord Eldin stared at the Chair. This sounded promising.

She glanced at him momentarily before returning her gaze to Millinith. “Though I don’t approve of his initial outburst, Lord Eldin did bring up a few very good points.”

He held back laughter. Maybe this farce would be over even before the vote!

“Dragons are indeed titanic beasts. Much larger than I ever assumed possible. One can only imagine the destruction they could unleash.”

The crowd murmured in agreement. Some of the children, standing next to their dragons, looked upset.

“Though the dragons do seem to be well-behaved, we must consider every possibility and weigh it in our decision.” She looked at the boys and girls near the dragons. “And the Accepted do seem to be awfully young.”

“No younger than Accepted in any craft, madam Chair,” Millinith said.

Was there a touch of desperation in the girl’s voice?

“True enough. Still, can we be confident ones so young can control their enormous pets?”

Lord Eldin smiled. Perfect! What are you going to do now, Baronel?

+ + + + +

“They aren’t pets!” Aeron had tried to keep the anger from his voice, but wasn’t completely successful. He saw where this was going. Curse Halitos and his gods-damned story.

Aeron took a breath and tried for calm. “If madam Chair will allow, I’d like to try to clear up a few things.”

His friends stared at him with wide eyes. There weren’t supposed to do anything during the meeting, but to hells with that. He wasn’t going stand by and let that ass, Lord Eldin, win this battle for their future!

The Chair glanced around the Council. Several representatives nodded. Turning back to him, she said, “You said that before, that they aren’t pets. What do you mean by that?”

Aeron shook his head. “That’s the biggest misconception people have. You see, dragons aren’t pets, they aren’t mere animals. They’re just like us. They are people.”

“People?” Lord Eldin looked amused. “Those are creatures—enormous beasts!—not people.”

The Chair glanced at the man, but instead of calling him out for interrupting, she nodded.

Aeron clenched his jaw.

Stay calm. Explain it to them

He glanced at Anaya. She was right. He had to maintain his composure. Angry retorts would serve no one but that jackass.

“They have minds,” he said, “they think and reason. They have emotions, too. They care for and love others, feel sorrow and loss, just as we do. They are not animals.”

Murmurs of assent came from the other dragonlinked and Anaya chirped.

“And despite what some have implied,” Aeron said, “they’re not competition for horses. They never were and never will be. That is not our purpose.”

The Chair, who was looking at Anaya, turned to him. “Oh? Well, what do
you
think your purpose is?” Her smile seemed condescending.

“We ‘think’ nothing,” Renata said.

He wasn’t the only one, it seemed, who was tired of merely standing by. Renata’s conviction was clear in the set of her jaw, the intensity of her gaze.

Nodding, he turned to the Council. “We
know
what our purpose is.”

“We feel it in our bones,” Willem said.

“We feel it in our blood.” Sharrah reached for Cheddar’s hand.

Clasping it, Cheddar said, “In each and every breath.”

“We feel it every glorious day we spend with our bond-mates.” Fillion placed his hand on Coatl’s shoulder.

“And every day we spend with our friends,” Liara said.

“Our purpose,” Jessip said, “is to fight nahual.”

The rumbling growl from all the dragons surprised everyone.

First to recover, Gregor said, “Not just for the sake of killing them, but in order to keep people safe. We help people and dragons. We’ll likely help any who need it.”

The Chair stared at them. “Even sick horses.”

“Just so.” Master Millinith nodded.

“Ridiculous!” Lord Eldin stood. “Keep people safe? They can’t even control their dragons in here! I don’t know about anyone else, but to me those growls sounded menacing. And I, for one, don’t believe their story about nahual investigations, about killing those beasts. How can a
 . . . child”—he spat the word—“kill a nahual? Those beasts have bested men, much less striplings.”

“He brings up a good point,” the Chair said. She turned to Aeron. “How are we to believe that you can kill a nahual? You? All alone?”

He frowned. Why was it so hard for them to believe? Just because he was young, didn’t mean he was powerless. And he wasn’t—

Aeron is not alone. I am with him. Always.
Anaya gave out a short bark and stepped up beside him.

Pride and love surged in his heart. He reached up and patted her neck.
Gods, but I love you.

Anaya nuzzled his cheek.

“D–Did she say that?” The Chair stared at Anaya.

“She did.” Aeron eyed the Council. “Never forget, madam Chair, members of the Council, our bond-mates are ever with us.”

Willem is not alone.