Chapter Eleven
 

Xahar looked up as someone wandered up to where he was sitting in the garden, pouting at the now shorter locks of his hair.  "They chopped into my braid," he said grimly, holding up the full braid since it was now all trimmed off.  "By my mother's people's standards, I'm no longer a man."

Mica kissed him on the forehead.  "I can fix that for you, Xahar.  It won't remove the white streaks, but it could help you some."  The dancer gave him such a hopeful look that he pulled out the bag of materials he had brought with him, just in case.  He had hoped it was only a few pieces, not something that had meant he'd have to cut all of it.  "I need to mix this with some milk and some oil."

"We have scented," he offered, sounding a bit less pitiful. "Or I could make Ballor run out to get some regular stuff if you need something other than cooking oil."

"Cooking oil would be fine but we'll mix some of your special scented oil in," he promised, helping him up and into the house.  "We'll need a way to only do your hair.  If we put this on the rest of your body, even a drip, it'll make the hair on that spot grow too."  Xahar shuddered at the thought of body hair so he smiled gently.  "Do you have a pan?"

"We do," he agreed, leading him into the kitchen.  "Elevan, I'm stealing one of your smaller wash pans.  He's fixing my hair.  Cook, give him whatever he needs and where's my *special* oil? I thought I hid it in here and I don't remember....."  Elevan got up and handed over the small vial then got the wash tub for him.  "Bigger?" he suggested.  "We'll be washing my hair in it."  She gave him an odd look but went to get one of the clothes wash tubs, handing it over instead.  "Thank you.  Do we need water?" he asked.

"No, just milk and some oil."  Cook waved a hand at where they were, getting out of the way while he gathered things. "That's not going to be enough milk and it's spoiled," he noted, pouring it down the sink.  "Sorry."

"No, I hadn't checked it today," Cook admitted.  "How about the oil?"

He sniffed it.  "Not rancid, it'll be fine.  I'll need about two jugs of milk to do this properly, otherwise it could make weak hair."

"Liset!" Xahar yelled. "Go get me two jugs of milk!"

"I'm in the bath!"

"Then send Ballor or we can't fix my hair!"

"You could go, boss," she called back, sounding less than tolerant at the moment.

"I don't want to be seen like this!" he shouted, sounding angry.  He heard a sigh and Ballor came out of the study and went to take his beltpouch and get some milk.  "Thank you!" he shouted, running over to hug him. "I love you!"

"I still only like girls, boss," he complained, getting free and going to do that small run.  If only so his boss would quit pouting!

Xahar carried everything into one of the rooms he hadn't decorated yet, letting his friend bring the bag of stuff for his hair.  He took off the scarf covering what was left of his hair, then fingercombed it so it wouldn't have any knots to get in the way.  He finally got up and ran up the stairs, coming back down with a comb; he really didn't want knots to interfere with his hair.  He was pulling the comb frantically through it when Mica stopped im and took the comb, pulling him over to sit in front of him so he could do it for himself.  Xahar slumped.  "You think I'm foolish to care so much."

"We all care about something, for some of us it's something personal that leads to good memories of our former lives, like your mother.  For me it's my uncle and my time training for my mastery."  He shrugged lightly, grinning when the young man looked back at him.  "Your hair is part of your act, your career, it would be like me suddenly wearing your clothes to do my work in.  It wouldn't look the same and it wouldn't feel right to me when I did my magic, which would throw it off horribly and nothing would ever work right until I got back to my normal self.  Your dancing would be the same.  No one would ever look at you that way again if you didn't have the hair flowing around your back, being a counter- point to your movement, a shadow basically."  He stopped combing when Ballor came in, taking the milk to sniff.  "Excellent, thank you, Ballor."

"You're welcome.  Will we have to get a priest or anything to banish any nether spirits?"

Mica laughed and shook his head.  "No, I don't usually use those unless I want to scare my students into obedience or not going there themselves."  Ballor grinned at that and left, closing the door gently behind him. Mica sniffed the milk again then carefully poured one jug into the washpan, then visually measured out some oil, using his fingers to swirl it around.  He handed over the second jug.  "Put that out of the way."  Xahar carefully put it further away and got to his knees, watching as the herbs and things were poured into the milk mixture.  He used his fingers to smash it around, then motioned him closer.  "I'm going to have to work this through your hair.  All the way from the roots down.  So bend down closer, that way none spills."  Xahar nodded and bent down closer, letting the ends of his hair fall into the mixture.  "Good."  He scooped up some in his hand and worked it into the younger man's scalp, weathering his hiss at how it heated.  "It's making it make new hair.  It's going to be a bit warm.  Sorry."  He scooped up more and worked it in another spot, making sure it overlapped.  Once he had the full scalp covered he went to work on the rest of the mass.  It was very soft.  "I talked to your alchemist but he's being difficult."

"Oh, we're going to have to talk," Xahar said dryly.  "I'm tired of paying that much for a five gold piece gel and an additive."  He glanced back.  "Will I need more to strengthen it and make it soft again?"

"You may," he offered, "but I'm sure we can do that."  He finished setting the mixture in, making sure he had it all covered.  He found a few spots and worked on them as well, accidentally getting some on the dancer's forehead, but that would only extend his hairline a few centimeters.  He found a few dry hairs behind his ears and worked on those as well, then got the small ones at the nape of his neck, again, making a few extra centimeters of hair.  He squeezed the moisture out, then waited, watching the trees outside for a few minutes.  When he looked back, the hair had grown a little bit but not much.  "Hmm, not as much as I was hoping for.  Do we have a towel?"

"Yeah, sure.  Can I have a towel?"

"Wet or dry?"  Cook yelled.

"Dry, it needs to be dry to help him."  One was brought in by Liset, who wrinkled her nose at the smell and walked out with a shudder.  She slammed the door, making Xahar jump but Mica prevented him from tipping over the milk mixture.  He smiled as he wrapped up the mass of hair, then helped Xahar sit down comfortably.  "We'll have to give it time.  It looks like it's growing about an inch an hour."

"Considering I had been growing the other since I was fourteen summers at my manhood celebration?  That's fine," he promised with a grin and a small blush.  "You're sure it'll work?"

"It already has started to, we just have to give it some time."  He smiled at him.  "Now, let's get back to talking about your training.  I do sense a gift in you and it would be a shame, if not harmful to you, to keep it so hidden, Xahar."

"It's just not me.  I've already done my training.  Training is for those who are the same age I was when I was kidnaped and brought to Numfria to train to dance."

"You were?" he asked, sounding shocked.

Xahar nodded.  "I was.  I was kidnaped by one of the warriors over here on a diplomatic mission.  The diplomat looked me over, paid my father a paltry sum, and decided I could probably learn to dance and that I was very pretty.  He called me almost Elven without the attitude."

"You don't like elves?"

"I loathe elves," Xahar admitted.  "My father was one of the knights in the last elf/human war and I've hated them for quite a while.  Even without his nudging I'd have hated them simply because they hate me.  They sneer at me, hate my hair, and hate my dancing.  I can't find pleasure in the company of such individuals and hating them is easier than just mild disgust at their lack of acknowledgment of anything beautiful outside their own little areas.  Therefore, they suck and I don't put up with them."

"You know an envoy is in town thanks to the marriage?"

"Yes, and if the queen forgets I hate elves, I'll be subtly and totally ill for a few hours.  She knows I loathe them, I nearly vomited on the last one who showed up.  Hopefully she got the point that she couldn't have me either."

"One of them wanted to steal you?"

"Yes, and her father was chastising her for bad taste as he walked the young teenager away, going to lock her in her room for finding something non-elven to be pretty and lust- worthy," he finished sarcastically.  "Thankfully, I don't care that much and they'll hopefully never let her back."

"No, probably not.  She was probably married off to someone very proper as soon as it was permissible so she couldn't embarrass anyone further."  He peeked under the towel and had to catch the mass before it fell and dripped onto his back.  He wrapped it back up.  "There's more growth but not enough yet," he offered, sitting back down.  He examined the bare back but there weren't any spots of potion on it.  "Oh, good, didn't want to get any on you."

"No, I don't think you did.  Nothing's heating up," he offered with a small grin.  "Except for the rest of me.  Can we go outside?"

"You really should probably stay in here," he offered gently.  "It'll be easier to wash it out when it's done."

"At this rate, it'll take forever," he said grimly.  "Can I at least get pillows?"

"Sure."  He got up to grab a few pillows from the nearest room, bringing them back.  "You do realize that you could be studying in your private time, and that it would give you something to do once you can no longer dance?" he offered, sitting across from him.

"Yes, but my mind won't be flexible enough then to learn something like that," he said dryly, smirking at him.  "You're working very hard but it's not something I feel is me."

"If I could prove you wrong, would you relent and at least learn the beginners books to give you more control?  It may help with that nasty kidnaping problem you seem to have."

"Anymore it's mostly old enemies coming for me.  That's how I'll know I'm too old to dance, when no one wants to steal me anymore."

Mica snickered, shaking his head.  "You're truly original, Xahar.  Please, just think about it?  It could be a great second career.  You could craft even, since I know you like the feeling of creating to the music."

"Maybe," he sighed.  "I'll consider it."

Mica nodded.  "That's all I really wanted, was for you to think about it."  He gave him a gentle smile.  "I can get you the beginners books within a day for both the general field and for crafting."

"I'm not sure I want to craft," Xahar admitted.  "I like pretty things but I'm not sure I could create pretty things.  Dancing and making jewelry are two different things."

"Good point, and it's usually a lonely and sweaty profession," he admitted.  "I'd love to see you do something with nature magic.  Something to do with animals or with plants.  I can't see you being one of the Great Old Ones who call down the elements to take care of problems and cause wars.  I also can't see you being one of the demon-summoners.  I can see you at the more genteel crafting.  Remember, there's things like tapestries and weaving as well in that."

"I hate doing things like that," he said, looking disgusted.  "I'm not the most physical and manual labor sort of guy in case you hadn't noticed.  Artistic yes, manual no."

Mica smiled.  "I understand.  Can I get you the first few books anyway?"

"If you wish.  At the very least, it'd be something new to read and maybe I'd find a way to do my hair for real instead of just braiding it."

Ballor knocked and opened the door.  "Cook wanted to know if he could eat dinner while he was doing this."

"He can," Mica assured him with a smile.  "Would it bother you or Liset if he picked up a magic text now and then?"

"That depends on what he does with it," Ballor said honestly.

"I can't see him being one of the bad ones," Mica offered.  "Maybe some creating, maybe some herbs and the like.  Maybe something with animals.  I can't be sure until he's passed through the first two books.  That's when an apprentice's skills are truly known."

Ballor considered it, then shrugged.  "Again, that depends on what he did with it," he noted.  "Liset, Mica wants Xahar to train what little magic he has.  Would that bother you?"

"Not if it helped keep him unkidnaped," she called back.

"Considering most of the recent attempts have been old enemies instead of new ones, it's showing that I'm getting old and unworthy of being someone's concubine," Xahar said dryly.  He knew he sounded a bit bitter, he wasn't that old yet, but he knew it was coming within the next ten summers.  By the end of that time he'd probably have to give up dancing totally and no one would want to kidnap him because of his age.  Then he'd just be a minorly rich Lord.  Probably having to give up this house and live on the family estate as well.  Or sell that and the title, then live here.  He'd have to think about that later; it could impact what he did in his future.

Mica looked at him.  "I'm sure you'll still be stolen into your eighties, Xahar.  Can I try something?"  He nodded.  "Do you know much about gems?"  He shook his head, looking curious as the mage pulled something out of his pocket.  "Tell me what this is and what it's for."

Xahar took the small pendant.  "It looks like that jade stuff someone had in the market that once.  Remember, Ballor, it was in the little statues."  He held it up to the light.  "I see... a lightening bolt? Is it for offense and protection?"

"Close.  It's for protection.  The lightening bolt is the symbol of my house," he offered, taking it back gently.  "It's what we'd mark any non-family member to protect them."  He smiled at him.  "This one is meant for my eventual mate.  Who will have to be very understanding," he said with a small wink.   Xahar chuckled at that and shook his head.  "You don't think so?"

"I think like the creationist mages, you'll find someone in your own field," he offered.  "While I may end up going to teach courtesans how to act in the court."

"That's a horrible thought," Liset said from the doorway.  "You taking some vapid, stupid little girl and educating her, boss?"  She looked at them.  "How much longer does he have to stink up the house and cook needs to know if he can eat while he's doing this."

"Of course he can," Mica agreed with a gentle smile for her.  "Actually, that's not a bad second career for him.  He could easily teach grace and attitude while you're in a court."

"Yeah, but we'd be plagued by the stupid little girls who wanted nothing more than to become mothers."

"I'd never teach them," Xahar assured her.  "People like Lady Pegnis or like the King's courtesan, but no one lesser."  He touched the towel.  "How much longer do you think?"

"Probably by the end of dinner," Mica offered.  "How many courtesans are there in the local court?"

"Four," Liset told him.

"Nine," Xahar corrected.  "Some of them take on ...special clients and leave the general politics alone.  Four of them are thinking about retiring and don't have anyone to follow in their footsteps."

"Boss, please, we'll beg," Ballor said from the doorway.  "Please, don't take in a girl to train."

"Fine, but within ten years I won't be able to dance anymore and no one will want to steal me," Xahar told him.  "Mica wants me to study magic."

"Which we wouldn't mind," Liset offered.  "Especially if you studied things like beauty magic or alchemical beauty secrets."

"That would be something you could probably do," Mica admitted.  "That's not so much magic as potions and lotions."

"Still, it's boring," Xahar told him.  "At least to me.  That's why I hire someone. I can't stand to sit in a small room and mix stuff in a jar or a bowl for hours on end."

"That's only part of the job," Mica offered.  "There's research, which is basically a lot of reading and testing.  There's listening to people ask you for things or demand things.  There's the struggle of balancing what people want and desire with what's realistic."

"See, I give them fantasies," Xahar told him.  "I give them an escape and a sense of beauty that's not often found in their lives, or that they're not looking for everywhere else.  I deal with fantasies and beauty and grace and skills that most people don't realize."  Someone knocked on the door.  "Oh, please, don't let that be someone who I perform for."

"I'll see," Ballor offered, going to answer the door.  He even waved Elevan off.  "I've got it."  He opened the door, smiling at the Queen.  "He's doing something about his hair.  One of the kidnapers brought by Prince Keivghn cut half his braid off.  They're doing a magical regrowth treatment."  He let her in anyway when she nodded, letting her look around the foyer.  "We're still getting settled in, my queen."

Xahar stuck his head out of the room they were using.  "We're doing smelly stuff in here but you're more than welcome to join us.  We're trying to figure out what I can do in ten years when I've got to stop dancing due to my age."

She looked him over.  "You can't be past twenty winters, Xahar," she noted as she walked in there.  "No furniture yet?"

"No, my queen, but we can easily drag a chair in for you," Liset offered.

"No, dear, that's all right.  They really did cut your hair?"  He nodded, giving her a pitiful look.  "How old are you?" she teased.  "Miradin does that same look."

"I'm twenty-four summers old," he admitted shyly.  "Recently no one I haven't met wanted to steal me.  That's how I know I'm getting old."

She smiled and patted him on the hand. "I'm sure you'll retire to be the wealthy courtesan we all know you can be."  He shuddered.  "No?" she asked with a small smirk.

"I don't like the court that much," he admitted.  "I might train some to do the same as I do when I'm flattering and hanging about, but I could never do it full time.  I'd have to yell at some of the people who don't think, ever."

The queen nodded.  "As have I in the past.  Thankfully everyone believed I was pregnant.  You won't have that option though.  Well, I'm sure you'll find something suitable for a man of your talents.  Perhaps a spouse?"  He shuddered again. "No?" she asked with a grin.

"I wouldn't mind but I'm going to be picky.  They're going to have to accept Ballor and Liset being around, they're going to have to accept my moaning about my sore joints.  They're going to have understand me and all my quirks, plus love to brush my hair once it's fixed."  He scratched at the towel but Mica stopped him.  "Isn't it time yet?"

"Let me check.  Majesty, you might want to shift back.  If any of this gets on you, it'll cause hair growth where it lands."  She did shift back and he carefully undid the towel, looking at the mass of hair that fell out.  He looked, only half had grown.  "That's not right," he complained, testing it.  "Bend down, let me rewet this other side."  He watched as it started to grow and smiled.  "Ah, it's being stubborn."

"That's where the unmanageable stuff is," Xahar admitted, bending down so he could rewet his hair with the potion.  "This really does stink."

"I know, but it'll be done soon," he promised.  He wet down the parts that weren't growing and then wrapped it all back up in the towel.  "Soon, Xahar.  Very soon.  Then we can trim any overgrowth on that one side."  He nodded, letting him deal with it for now. Xahar slumped back down on his pillow and Mica made sure that nothing had dripped on him. He wiped off a spot and dipped out some of the pure milk to rinse that spot off.  "There, that shouldn't grow hair. You'll be pretty and perfect for dancing again in no time."

The queen smiled at them.  "I wanted to come down to see if you had changed anything.  I'm sure we'll be able to do this next week sometime?"

"Well, actually, I'm still waiting on someone to finish the furniture for conservatory," Xahar admitted.  "She's doing special couches that I'm going to go down and test for comfort.  Most of the rest I've only replaced the necessities.  Beds, couches, bookshelves."

"Bookshelves?" she asked with a knowing look.

"Even we have to have something to do in our down time," Ballor said dryly.  "We have a lot of scrolls."

"Which we could probably trade in for new ones," Liset reminded him.  "Boss, may we?"

"Pick out my favorites and your favorites and anything unread by all three of us.  Trade the rest," he said with a wave of his hand.  "I could use some new stuff too."

Mica smiled.  "I'd like to see a list.  We might have some fun reading things that you don't.  We've got a whole section of older fun reading scrolls that everyone seems to hate because they're older stories.  The young just don't appreciate well-crafted material these days."

"That is so true," the queen agreed with a small sigh.  "All the princesses are the same way.  Miradin actually has stated that she hates reading."

"At her age, I hated all stories," Liset offered.  "Then again, most of my mother's had morals to them and most of them were 'watch out for the men' and 'always get payment for your deeds'.  Speaking of, boss, it's nearly payday."

"You two know how to pop the safe and know what you get paid, pay yourselves," he snorted, giving her a look.  "I know you're not going to steal from me."

"Point," she agreed, smiling at him.  "Thanks, boss."

"Welcome."  He reached up to the towel.  "Something's happening, I can feel the hair pushing the towel off my head."

Mica grabbed it before it could fall, tipping his head down into the solution again to look it over.  "Even growth.  Let me measure it out to make sure."  He took some strands from the front to measure against the ones on the back, nodding at their length.  "I'd say that was about right, right?" he asked the guards, who nodded.  They'd seen his hair enough times to know the usual length.  "Hand me the milk please."  Liset pushed it over and he poured it over the wet hair, getting all of it wet with the neutralizer while the milk mixed in with the potion and killed it.  Then he began to scoop up the new mixture, rinsing out the long strands.  He finally got it fully done and rinsed out, then got Xahar up and up to the bathroom in his suite to use the water from the rain cistern on the roof.  He got it fully clean and rinsed out, then examined it.  "You'll need something to make it softer and more manageable again."

"The purple bottle.  I got it the last time I went world hopping."  Mica looked at him.  "There's a sorcerer who has a trunk of many worlds.  That's where I got my CD player and music.  I went for a second, voluntary, trip to get more music and get a few more players as spares. The first time he shoved me in there for not going out with him."  He grinned and grabbed the bottle.  "Help me?" he offered.  Mica grinned and helped him condition the mess of his hair, helping him rinse it out too.  When they finally stood Xahar up, his hair was uneven at the bottom but it was also down to his knees in spots and the rest was just above his waist.  "That's a good length," Xahar noted after looking in a mirror.  "We can have it trimmed even."  He hugged Mica.  "I adore you."  He bounced down the stairs, letting everyone look.  "See!" he said proudly.

"I do, boss, and it's a good job," Ballor admitted.  "We'll get your usual hair cutter in to trim the bottom for you."

"Will we need to go rough up your alchemist for more stuff?" Liset asked.

"Possibly.  That depends on what it looks like later."  He sat back down, pushing the wash tub away.  Mica came back in wiping his hands off.  "How much do we owe you?"

"The afternoon in your company and badgering you into thinking about doing the beginning mage books is enough," he offered.  He sat down next to him.  "Don't you think he'd make a good mage, Majesty?"

"Actually, no," she admitted.  "Xahar is not very focused on anything outside his pleasures and his dancing.  Even his clothing has been known to disappoint because he doesn't pay enough attention to the small tears.   We were impressed when his seat seam ripped during one dance.  The king was most pleased and astonished when it ripped all the way around and we all found out most delightfully that he doesn't wear anything under those thin pants of his."  Xahar blushed.

"Was that before he got us?" Ballor asked.  "Or were we hidden somewhere?"

"No, this was the year before he hired you two, Ballor.  He was in our garden at a tea party before a wedding.  Really more of a bridal shower.  I'm sure she was most pleased with the extra fertility she got from that sight.  She's on her fifth child now."

"Is she still cursing me?" Xahar asked sheepishly.

"No, her husband is spoiling her and promising to find a mistress to spare her more children."  She patted him on the head.  "Well, that does feel soft now."

"I used some of the stuff I got the last time I took a trip across worlds."  He heard a loud bellow and looked up.  Then at the mage.  "Something one of your students called?"

"No," he admitted.  "Not in the least.  They're on vacation this weekend, allowed to go out of the school."  He stood up and went to the nearest window, looking out.  "Um, Xahar, it's a really big dragon," he said dryly.  "Know many of those?"

"Only three or four.  Three from the same clan," he said as he stood up and came to the window.  "I don't know him," he admitted.  He walked out to the front door and opened it, looking up at the dragon standing there.  "Yes, can I help you?"

"Are you Xahar the Great?" the dragon asked in a deep, seductive, thrumming voice.  Xahar nodded, leaning against the door.  "I come with an offer of dancing for my clan and many rewards."

"When did you need me?"

"Next week?"

"I'm due up North next week," he said.  "Let me get my book and see if we can work something out."  The dragon nodded and he turned, finding Ballor with his schedule book.  "Thanks, Ballor."  He opened it to the correct moon and looked at it.  "Did we miss Lady Whipley's event?"

"She canceled, boss," Liset reminded him. "Prince Keivghn was supposed to be there and she didn't want to upset you."

"I forgot about that.  Have we checked on the Winterborn event?"

"I can make that mage call," Cook called.

"Since when?" Xahar asked, looking back at him.  "You do magic?"

"A tiny bit.  About like your braiding spell," he noted dryly.  He went to make that call.  He came back a minute later.  "Daughter ran off with the other prince and the Duke's hosting the wedding instead.  So that means that Ballor and Liset can take Brosct's wife up to see her family and that guard up to rescue his.  The duke said he'd call in a few days to reschedule and the Winterborns said that they'd be forwarding you ten percent since they canceled so recently."

Xahar marked that out.  "My Queen, when is the Duchess' event?"

"Not for another four weeks, dear.  She's had a bit of a complication, namely that her boyfriend was recently involved in a small hunting accident and he's got to heal first."  She came to the doorway.  "Is that dragon wanting you for an event?"  He nodded.  "Well, that's very prestigious," she congratulated.  "Let me see your book, I can tell you immediately who canceled and who you canceled on due to your hair."

"I only canceled today and yesterday due to my hair," he said grimly, handing it over with a quill.  She marked out a few and handed it back.  "When did I have that one?" he asked, looking at a remaining one.  "Did I miss one?"

"Oh, no, dear, she died," she admitted, crossing that one off too.  "There you go.  Your schedule is clear but for Lady Desdris's event early next moon, Xahar."

He grinned and looked out at the dragon.  "When did you want me?"

"We were thinking sometime next week," he offered, leaning down.  "Say this day?" he suggested, pointing with a claw.

"I can, and depending on where you are in the world, it shouldn't be too long of a ride."

"We're unfortunately from Tirjay.  Which, as you probably know, is about two month's sea journey from here.  I can easily carry you there and back," he offered.  "That's why they sent me, because I am so strong."

Xahar considered it.  "I could do that and only pack a small bag.  How long will the flying part be?"

"Possibly two days at the most.  We do have a cage for your to ride in.  It's on my back.  Plus, since it is such a long trip, I brought some furs along as well."

Xahar looked back at Ballor, then at the Queen.  "Ballor, take that guard with you.  They'll probably need a report on what's going on up that way anyway."  He gave him an odd look.  "Don't argue.  The dragons won't keep me.  Besides, Tirjay is up by Numfria.  I can hop over there with a message from the trainer since it's a usual stop on the dragon flight path if I remember right.  It'll take me about a day to get everything settled," he told the dragon.

"That's fine, I can easily wait," he agreed.

"You could come visit us up at the palace and tell us how things are going over there.  We don't get to hear much from across the water," the queen offered.  "Let me call up there first to warn someone so no one becomes overly rude and tries to shoot at you."

"Thank you, Majesty, that is most gracious. I would love to visit with you while he readies himself."

"I'll send the messages down today and pack once we see how much of a treatment my hair will need."  He grinned at him.  "You'll be flying me back?"  The dragon nodded.  "Then I should easily make my next appointment, my Queen."  He patted the dragon fondly.  "Let me go write out those notes."  He hurried to his study, dragging Mica with him in case he wanted to send a letter back too.

"Boss, one of us should go...." Liset started.

"No!" Xahar yelled.  "It'll be too much weight for the dragon.  I'll be fine.  Go with Ballor and take a break.  You never get one."

"Boss, I don't need a vacation," she complained.

"Liset, argue with me and take a pay cut for the next six moons."

"Fine," she complained, looking at Ballor, then at the dragon.  "We've had a few problems with people wanting to keep him.  Will you protect him in our place while he's with your clan?"

"Definitely.  He's cute, but not the sort we'd keep.  He's probably not good at much manual labor."  The dragon grinned at her.  "I promise, I'll protect him like my own cub."

"Thank you," Ballor agreed.  "We'll hold you to that."  He led Liset off to plan how to work around this new order.  Sometimes their boss just made stupid decisions and they had to work around him.
 

To Index

To Chapter Twelve