Alta

“Oh, don’t start cheering until after you’ve had a taste of what those two beasts I’m going to start you on can think up in the way of torment for a new flyer!” he warned them, laughing. “Don’t forget for a moment that these are mean old cows who would much rather be in their sand wallows being treated like princesses than have to work for their meat. It’s going to be especially bad for the first two to ride them, in the morning. They hate getting up, and they’ll take it out on you!”

“But you and Avatre will be there to teach them better manners,” said Gan gaily. “There’s nothing to worry about, is there, lads?”

Kiron sighed. Enough enthusiasm to build a palace and not a brick of common sense among them. Well, they would see soon enough for themselves that he hadn’t been joking. The first few days were going to be—interesting.

No wonder Haraket was bald. He must have torn his own hair out long before I ever came to the compound.

He had to wonder, though. Were all young riders such overconfident idiots?

Sut-ke-re, rider of Jatel, laughed when he asked that question aloud. “Ah, Kiron,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye, “Are not most young men in general overconfident idiots? I think that is the essence of a young man.”

“Well—” he said, and flushed when he thought of what he had done to win Avatre for himself. It had been insane. He should never have been able to pull it off. At least he hadn’t been overconfident—he’d been terrified every moment of every day that he would be caught—but he’d been a fool to even try it in the first place. “I suppose so. If not overconfident, then—at least, we are all foolhardy. And as for idiots—well, I suppose we are that, too.”

“I think it is in the nature of young men,” Sut-ke-re said, pulling off his short wig and rubbing his shaved head as he squinted up at the sun. “Young men are willing to take risks that older men would not even think of trying. Young men believe they are immortal, I do think. I know that they are impatient with tradition. If they were not, they would never attempt the half of what they do, and no new thing would ever be tried.”

“Such as growing dragons from the egg?” Kiron hazarded.

“Such as growing dragons from the egg,” Sut-ke-re confirmed. “Now, here is my dilemma. On the one hand, I would rather that your wing did traditional training. On the other hand, there are no dragons to spare for traditional training, and even if there were, there are young men two or three years older than your boys are, who have had other sorts of military training, who are waiting for a dragon. There are always more trained warriors wanting to be Jousters than there are dragons. And I agree with you that putting two fledgling flyers into the air at the same time is foolhardy. So I agreed, and so did Ke-shuth.”

“Jouster,” said Kiron, trying to put as much gratitude as he could muster into his voice, “Thank you.”

Sut-ke-re shrugged. “I can see no reason to object to your borrowing Jatel before I am ready to ride out, for she is a lazy cow and could surely stand to be ridden far more in a day than I ride her. And Keshuth will be pleased to have his slug Orthele warmed up and more inclined to move when he comes to take her out as well.”

So, he had gotten past the second hurdle with not so much as a single objection! “Thank you, Jouster Sut-ke-re,” Kiron said again, with relief as well as gratitude. He bowed slightly, and turned to go give the boys the good news.

“Just you keep them out of trouble!” Sut-ke-re called after him, though there was amusement in his voice. “If ever I turn up and there’s a sprained foot or a strained wing, a broken strap or an exhausted dragon, there will be a reckoning!”

This made for a change in the babies’ routine. The dragonets were no longer clamoring for food constantly; they were content with several large meals every day now, which made it possible for the boys to get away long enough to train in between feedings. But for the two on the morning flights of the new stage of training, the dragonets had to be fed by someone else, otherwise the two boys in question would not have time to fly before the wings went up.

That “someone” was Aket-ten.

She had, in fact, volunteered for the duty, and Kiron had been concerned that she would not be up to it. Feeding the babies was still a messy, bloody job, and he would not have blamed her for taking one look and deciding it was not for her.

In fact, she took to it without a flinch or a word of complaint, and by the time Toreth and Huras were ready for their first real flights, she had fed every one of the babies, under the supervision of its “mother,” at least twice.