Linsha clenched her hands at her sides and resisted every instinct she had that screamed at her to draw her sword. Against that ebony monster, she knew her tiny blade could do no damage, and it would probably only irritate Sable. She could only pray fervently that Lord Bight knew what he was doing.
The governor stood motionless, his head tilted up to watch the dragon, his hands and the wooden box in plain view.
Sable circled around again, then banked her great wings and landed on the flat plateau. The ground trembled under her massive weight, and her huge body blocked the light of the setting sun. She settled her wings close to her dusky body and surveyed the two people not more than twenty feet away. Her yellow eyes gleamed like twin fires in the twilight.
“Hogan Bight,” she hissed. “Aren’t you dead yet?”
He laughed and sketched a bow. “Onysablet, how pleased I am to see you.”
The dragon lowered her long head close to Linsha. Her ivory horns twitched in irritation.
The lady Knight froze. The reek of decay and foul muck filled her nostrils, and the heat of the dragon’s breath blew over her like a hot furnace. But she refused to move or react to the dragon, even though it took everything she had to resist the dragonfear.
“Who is this worthless bit of refuse? I hope this is another addition for my zoo,” Sable said maliciously. “I’m rather short of females.”
A shudder shook Linsha from head to foot, and she almost bolted. Sable’s zoo was nothing but a collection of hideous creatures created by her revolting experiments with parasites, slaves, swamp creatures, and anyone unlucky enough to be caught in her domain.
Lord Bight shook his head. He put his hand on Linsha’s shoulder, and she felt reassurance in his touch and strength in his nearness.
“Sorry, Your Mightiness,” he said lightly. “This one is not available. However, I have brought something I think you will appreciate more.” He unfastened the catch on the wooden box, lifted the lid, and carefully withdrew a glass jar that rested snugly in a nest of cotton. He held up the jar for Sable’s inspection. The jar held some dirty water that partially obscured a loathsome creature that swam about within.
Sable dipped her neck to peer closely at the thing. “What is it? I can barely make it out.”
“A cutthrull slug,” he announced with visible pride.
The dragon’s head shot up and her eyes flared in excitement. “From the caverns of Mount Thunderhorn?”
“The same. The shadowpeople found this for me. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”
Stunned, Linsha tore her eyes away from the dragon to stare at the man, wondering if she understood him clearly.
“And what makes this a special occasion, little man?” Sable purred, her yellow eyes greedily fastened on the jar.
“I wish to appeal to your scientific nature,” Lord Bight replied. “I have come across an interesting disease, and I thought perhaps, with your vast knowledge and years of research, you might be able to identify it.”
Intrigued and a little flattered, Sable crouched closer to the ground. She crossed her forearms and looked down her long snout at Bight. “Describe it.”
He did so, in clear and precise terms, without once mentioning the fact that the disease was imperiling Sanction.
Sable’s expression turned contemplative—an effect that Linsha found disconcerting. “Where did you witness this disease?”
“On a ship from Palanthas. Most of the crew had died from it.”
The dragon curled a lip thoughtfully. “Since you rarely leave that ridiculous little lair you call Sanction, it must have come into your harbor.” She paused as if dissecting this information. “I’m surprised the ship made it past those dark ships near the bay. Pirates are always on the lookout for an easy prize. Hmmm… let me think.” She gazed sightlessly into the distance, oblivious to the drops of acid that fell from her teeth to the ground. “It sounds similar to a plague I noted before the last Cataclysm. Killed mostly humans. Unfortunately it died out before I grew interested enough to study it.”
“How? How did it die out?” he asked, trying not to sound too insistent.
“I don’t remember. Some thought it was induced by magic because it flared up so quickly.” Sable suddenly snorted and sprang to her feet. “That is all I remember. I have talked enough, Bight. May I have the jar, or do I melt you and your female into an insignificant puddle?”
He laughed. “You can try, Sable, and I will never bring specimens for your collection again.”
“Ha! Most of them are worthless anyway. I don’t know why I bother coming.”
In spite of her words, she watched avidly while Lord Bight placed the jar and its creature back in its packing and fastened the lid. With a delicacy Linsha wouldn’t have believed possible for such a large dragon, the black clamped three claws around the box and lifted it carefully. She executed a little run toward the edge of the plateau before she jumped skyward and her wings took their first great sweep downward. The force of the air thrust beneath her knocked Linsha and Lord Bight to the ground. Without a final word or farewell, Sable glided into the approaching darkness and passed away on silent wings.
A very long moment of silence followed.
Linsha was so flabbergasted she didn’t know what to say She climbed to her feet and stared at Lord Bight, who appeared deep in thought. Emotions seethed within her: disbelief, amazement, disappointment, relief, awe, confusion.
“Is that it?” she finally exploded with the first thought that came into words. “We left Sanction in the middle of a crisis and walked for an entire day to give a jar of waste water to a dragon? For what?”
He rose and answered calmly, “Actually that was not just dirty water. It was a cutthrull slug, a very rare and particularly viscous little parasite that Sable has wanted for her collection.”
“Is that how you bribe her to stay away from Sanction? An odd parasite here, a slave there? I can’t believe she accepts it. There has to be something more.”
“Why?”
Linsha heard the sharp edge of his query and realized her questioning was pushing the limits of her position as squire. She toned down her inquisitor’s voice and returned to being Lynn. She lifted her hands in a careless gesture. “Sorry, Your Excellency. The dragon scared me witless. I guess I just overreacted.”
“She does have that effect.”
“But I still don’t understand how a dragon overlord like Sable doesn’t just melt you and take Sanction for her own.”
Lord Bight cocked one eyebrow and flashed his enigmatic smile. “Sable and I have a diplomatic relationship. The creatures I bring her are only a small part of it.”
A diplomatic relationship. The Clandestine Circle would love that ambiguous response. In fact, Linsha couldn’t wait to tell them. For years the Knights of Solamnia had thought it strange that the lord governor seemed to devote most of his efforts toward foiling Sable while the Dark Knights continued to camp at his back door. Why, they wondered, didn’t he do something to rid Sanction of them permanently? Some in the Circle feared he was secretly laying the groundwork for a profitable treaty with the Dark Knights.
Except, Linsha thought, what good did it do to rid yourself of one enemy when a more powerful one could just move in and turn all your hard work to swamp? Lord Bight was not all-powerful, despite how he acted sometimes, and his resources were not limitless. Perhaps he decided to resolve his problems with the worst enemy first and merely keep the others at bay until he was ready to give them his full attention. She couldn’t believe that he would willingly relinquish control of the city to anyone, dragon, or Knight, or even volcano. Lord Bight would deal with the Knights of Takhisis when he was ready. Unfortunately, none of this explained why Sable respected his presence in Sanction.