The Dragon Society (Obsidian Chronicles Book 2) (25 page)

"And you said they were trying to kill you, so I suppose it's not so terrible," she said. "But it's still not tight to use
that
to punish the dragons that killed your parents! The
babies
didn't kill your parents!"

"But they would have grown up to kill other innocent people, Hasty. That's what dragons
do."

"I thought they mostly stayed in deep caves, and only came out when the weather was right."

Arlian hesitated. The thought that the dragons might be emerging haunted him, but he did not want to tell Hasty that. It might still be possible to avert that disaster.

Still, Hasty seemed to have missed a crucial point

"But when the weather
is
right, they kill innocent people, and burn entire villages," Arlian said.

"And if you want to punish them for
that,
why, that" fine," Hasty said. "But the babies haven't
done
that yet."

"But they
will,
if they live long enough."

"Then it's not punishment," Hasty said. "It's preven-tion"

'True," Arlian conceded.

"So you aren't really avenging anything," Hasty said. "You aren't hurting the dragons that killed your family, you're just trying to make it harder for dragons to hurt anyone
else."

"Well, so far," Arlian agreed.

"Well, then," Hasty said. "So is that why you aren't happy? Because you haven't found the dragons that killed your parents and made them pay for their crimes?"

"I suppose so," Arlian said, startled. He had never thought of Hasty as capable of that much insight.

"So you're still trying to hunt them down? And if you find them and kill them,
then
you'll be happy?"

"If it doesn't cause open warfare between humans and dragons, I think so, yes."

"Why would it start a war? Are those particular dragons especially important?"

Arlian sighed. "Hasty, up until very recently, no one had ever killed a dragon. No one knew
how
until Enziet figured it out. We were no threat to them, so they were content to leave us alone while they slept underground. But if we start killing dragons,
any
dragons, then they'll fight back."

"And start a war?" She made a face. "I hate politics.

I used to hear the lords talking about it sometimes, back in Westguard, and I always hated it. All that fighting."

"That's the way things are."

"Well, it..." She stopped suddenly, staring at nothing, clearly thinking hard, then said, "But then you can't ever be happy!"

"What?"

"Well, you
can't
kill those dragons if it would start a war! You can't do that. So you'll never have your revenge, and you'll never be happy."

"It might be
worth
starting a war," Arlian said. "We could put an end to the dragons
forever,
so that no more innocents would
ever
die from their attacks."

Hasty shook her head. "Oh, no," she said. "If there were a war,
Vanni
might be killed. There mustn't be a war."

Vanniari had finished her meal and fallen asleep as they spoke, but now as Hasty made her vigorous protest the motion sent Vanniari's head flopping backward, awakening her. She let out a small wail, and Hasty quickly snatched the child back to her breast.

"I'm sorry," Arlian said. "I may not..

"I don't want to talk about this any more," Hasty said, cuddling her baby. "There
won't
be any war. The dragons have been in their caves for seven hundred years, and they'll
stay
there, won't they, Vanni?"

"Of course," Arlian said.

He left just a moment later, sooner than he had intended, and much sooner than his wont

He wished he were as sure as Hasty that there would be no war. He wished he could even be certain that the war had not already begun.

And he also wished he were as sure as he said he was that humanity would win such a war.

They would win only if people
fought
the drag-cms—and people like Hasty probably wouldn't. They would hide, or they would allow the dragons to enslave them as mankind had been enslaved long ago.

And the people who did so would probably be happier, and live longer, than the people who fought—yet the dragons
must
be fought.

Though he had to admit he found it hard to imagine how anyone, even someone armed with obsidian spears, could fight an attacking dragon. Catching them asleep was one thing, but fighting them openly ...

He decided he didn't want to think about it. He busied himself with his household affairs for a time, re-viewing expenditures and employment, but quickly tired of that as well. It was almost a relief when a footman, the young man named Wolt, informed him that he had visitors.

"Show them in," he said. "I'll meet them in the small salon."

"They asked that you meet them at the front door, my lord," the footman said.

Puzzled, Arlian said, "Oh? Who are they, then?"

"I do not know, my lord; they gave no names."

"You didn't recognize them?"

The footman hesitated. "I thought one might be Lord Hardior, perhaps."

"Hardior?" That was interesting. The Duke's adviser had said, at Nail's bedside, that he and Arlian should have a long talk, but as yet they had not spoken since then; perhaps he intended to pursue that now.

But if he wanted a long conversation, why not come inside and be comfortable? Meeting at the front door implied either that a quick exchange of some sort was desired, or that they wanted Arlian to accompany them elsewhere—did Hardior want to take Arlian to the Duke, perhaps?

And who were the other visitors?

"How many guests do 1 have, then?"

"Three gentlemen, my lord."

All male—that meant, at least, that Lady Opal was not among them.

"I'll come at once," Arlian said.

A moment later he stepped out the front door into the bright sun of early summer, and immediately recognized his three callers.

"Lord Door," he said. "Lord Hardior, Lord Zaner. I had not expected to see you today."

In fact, he had never really expected to see Door outside the hall of the Dragon Society at all; Door seemed to always be there, watching everyone who went in or out and making sure that only members were admitted.

Door cleared his throat as the other two looked at him expectantly. "Arlian of the Smoking Mountain, known as Lord Obsidian, sometimes called Lord Lanair or Triv of Westguard, you are summoned, under oaths you swore, to explain your actions to your peers," he announced.

Arlian stood silentiy for a moment, absorbing this.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; he knew that the Dragon Society could summon a member to a hearing if there was some suspicion that that member had broken some portion of the Society's oath.

He had himself tried to summon Lord Enziet on a charge of conspiring with the dragons, but Enziet had already left the city at the time.

He had never expected to be on this end of such a summons, though.

"Who accuses me7' he asked at last. "And in what manner am I alleged to have broken the Society's rules?"

"Lord Toribor has accused you of concealing information about the dragons, and of plotting the death of another member within Manfort's walls," Hardior replied. "I agreed to oversee a hearing on this matter."

Well, Arlian thought, so much for his attempt to mend fences with Toribor.

And concealing information—he could not really truthfully deny that. This hearing should prove interesting, to say the least.

He had some idea how it would work, from Enziet's never-held hearing. Rime had been the overseer for that, and Arlian had been the accuser, required to wait at the Society's meeting hall. Door had been the Society's herald in both matters—he had, Arlian had once been told, been the Society's herald in everything of the sort for at least the past hundred years.

There was a great deal he did
not
know, however.

"Forgive me, my lords, but might I ask how long this hearing is likely to take, and what preparation I am allowed, if any?"

"It will take as long as necessary to determine the facts of the case, and the appropriate response to them," Hardior said. "Minutes, hours, or days, I cannot say. As for preparation, you may have a moment to fetch any evidence you feel necessary, but no more than that. We do not care to risk your escape."

"I cannot think of any relevant evidence, my lords, but I pray you allow me to inform my staff that I will be absent for an indeterminate time."

" 'Indeterminate,' he says," Lord Zaner said. "That's one way of putting it."

Hardior hesitated. "Obsidian, you do realize that the penalties for breaking the Society's oath may include death?"

"Oh, certainly," Arlian said. "I understand that. I have faith in the common sense of my fellows, though, and do not expect any such verdict."

Zaner and Hardior exchanged glances. Arlian smiled.

Toribor wanted him dead, and presumably some of the other dragonhearts did as well, but Arlian thought, despite the obvious misgivings of his escort, that he would be able to convince a solid majority not to do anything so foolish as imposing a death sentence.

And he already knew much of what he would say.

This hearing settled the question that had troubled him ever since he spoke to the dragon's image in the bowl.

If the Dragon Society was going to demand the truth of him, they would have it—he would not be forsworn of the oath he had made upon joining.

That might bring the dragons down on Manfort—

but at this point, Arlian thought that
anything
he could do might bring such an attack. It might well be on its way even now. Better to go ahead and have it all out.

Come on," Zaner said. "Let's get on with it."

"A moment, please." Arlian turned and leaned back into the Old Palace, where Wolt was waiting. He took his second-best hat from the hook there.

'Tell my steward I have been summoned to a hearing," he said.

"A hearing, my lord? Before the Duke?"

"No. Before a far more dangerous court than that."

Then, before the man could respond, he stepped back out onto the path, closing the door behind him.

"I am at your service, my lords," he said.

Arlian did not remember ever seeing the Dragon Society's hall so full before. He could not think of a single member who was not present. Of course, with fewer than two score surviving members, and the room as large as it was, it was still far from actually being crowded.

Toribor had taken a seat near the center of the room, facing the door, ready to confront his foe; his head was turned slightly, so that his good eye was forward and the patch over the one he had lost to a dragon's attack so very long ago was slightly back. A small group was gathered about him.

Rime sat close by Toribor's right elbow, her legbone in her hand, tapping quietly on the tabletop. Flute stood just behind Rime, her hands clutching die back of Rime's chair. Lord Shatter sat to Toribor's left, and Lord Spider just beyond, with his wife, Lady Shard, beside him. Lord Ticker, whom Arlian had seen but never spoken to, was standing by Shard's shoulder.

The other members were scattered about, all watching intently as Arlian confronted his accuser.

Once Arlian and his three escorts were inside. Door resumed his accustomed place by the entrance, while Hardior and Zaner remained at Arlian's sides, but pulled up chairs and seated themselves facing Toribor's party. Arlian had no idea what the proper procedure was, but he suspected this affair might take a considerable length of time, so he grabbed a chair as well, tossing his hat onto a small table nearby.

He could not see any particular pattern in the seat-ing arrangements; Toribor was his chief accuser, certainly, but Zaner was Toribor's friend, while Arlian thought Rime preferred his own company to Belly's.

Shatter had never taken a side, so far as Arlian could recall, while Spider, Shard, and Ticker were almost strangers.

"I am here, as summoned," Arlian said.