< He should be at the medical center with the rest > she said glancing 
back at the motionless form of H'tor.

< He rarely does what he should > Haroc replied, his attention on the 
last of a half-dozen flanks of raw meat she had brought him. < He is of 
the opinion that if he can walk he can sleep in his own bed. The medical 
staff was not amused. >

< Robyn told me > the dark green dragon called Myrre said. < She says he 
walked into the medical center assisting Meena and when she and the 
child Demee were settled in he walked out again. I am surprised that no 
one tried to argue the point. >

< I have observed that people don't like to argue with H'tor > Haroc 
said, finishing the meat. < Perhaps it's because he doesn't argue back. 
I have never seen him tell anyone else what to do. I believe he expects 
the same from others in everything outside of combat. >

< Still, his injuries should be treated > Myrre said. < Robyn was hit as 
he was, except in the back instead of the side. She says without shame 
that it hurts terribly. >

< There is no shame in knowing you are hurt. > Haroc said, joining Myrre 
at the lip of the apartment and looking down into the bowl. < Let her 
know that the food was very satisfying and send her our best for a 
speedy recovery. >

< "Our" best? > Myrre asked, her tone amused. < Somehow I think you are 
putting words in his mouth. However, I will convey the message. >

Myrre arched her back and launched herself from the ledge of Haroc's and 
H'tor's apartment to dive towards the green below. Haroc watched her 
descent until she touched down.

< Did you have a pleasant visit? > he heard and turned to see H'tor 
standing up beside his bed refilling his cup with water.

< You should not be able to deceive me like that you know > Haroc said 
after a moment's consideration. < I was sure you were still sleeping. >

H'tor finished his cup in silence then filled it again. < How could I 
sleep when she clattered in carrying that bag of meat? The smell alone 
would wake the dead. > He began to drink again. < Besides, you appeared 
to be enjoying yourself, there was no need for me to get involved. >

The dragon snorted and watched while the man began to dress.

H'tor finished quickly and after downing his third cup of water he 
walked over to examine his work on the damaged heavy saddle he'd been 
repairing late into the night. It was serviceable, but he still had some 
work to do. He picked up the lighter of the two saddles and walked over 
to where Haroc waited.

< Time to get some breakfast? > Haroc asked, he was still hungry.

< In a while > H'tor replied as he began to work. < We have to retrieve 
the weapon first. >

Haroc snorted violently. < Couldn't we just say it was broken forever? 
You know how I feel about that thing. >

< Since when have our feelings interfered with what we do? >

< Easy for you to say. > the dragon said sullenly.

H'tor chuckled and finished quickly. Then he retrieved a long 
double-bladed ax and a pack from his combat gear.

< Tell me this is not going to be disgusting > Haroc said, his eyes on 
the ax.

H'tor took his place and fastened himself to it. He lay the big ax 
across his lap. < You don't have to watch. >

Haroc sailed out into the bowl and within a few minutes they closing to 
where the maroon wilder had fallen to earth the day before.

The scavengers who had been feasting throughout the night scattered as 
Haroc landed nearby the broken form. H'tor slid down and surveyed the 
carcass then started towards it. He was halfway there when he paused.

< You know Haroc > he said to the motionless dragon. < This would go a 
lot quicker if you were to assist me. >

< I love you more than life H'tor, but this I cannot do. >

< Then fly away dear heart > H'tor said softly. < Fly away to a distant 
rock and sun yourself. I will call you when I am ready. >

Without pausing to reply the dragon turned and launched himself 
skywards. In moments he was almost out of sight.

H'tor hefted his ax and waded into the wreckage of the dead wilder. With 
a low grunt he began to work.

The sun climbed high and began its descent and he worked on, pausing 
only for a few mouthfuls of day-old bread and the occasional swallow of 
water. His bandages worked themselves loose and fell to the mess around 
him, exposing his recent burns to the light of day and the thousands of 
insects that buzzed, bit and fed incessantly.

Finally, oozing sweat and far more unhealthy liquids that cracked his 
injured and uninjured skin alike, he worked the long polearm free from 
where it lay trapped beneath the body of the dead wilder. Extracting 
himself from the corpse he called for Haroc.

The blood-red dragon, looking darker from his leisurely day in the sun 
arrived quickly and studied the man as he trudged towards him.

< I am fairly certain that is the worse you have ever looked. > the 
dragon said. < You smell terrible. >

H'tor took his place, almost too exhausted to secure his own straps. 
After a moments thought he managed to tie both weapons to the saddle so 
he didn't have to trust his tired grip.

Haroc started back for the warren. They were just clearing the bowl when 
H'tor finally spoke.

< Take us to the green Haroc. You must be hungry. >

< Anything else? > the dragon said, knowing that there was.

< Yes > H'tor said. < Talk to the others and find us a place to go 
tonight. > The man tipped his head back, looked at the sky and then 
closed his eyes. < Find us a place where waterfalls cascade gently into 
quiet pools of clear and cool water. Find us a place where the stars and 
the moon light that water in a joyful dance. Find us a place where the 
wind blows softly through tall trees. Please Haroc, find us a place like 
that. >

< I will do so. >

They landed without another word and as H'tor started for the dining 
hall and Haroc started for the feeding troughs the dragon spoke.

< I have been told of just such a place H'tor. > the dragon said.

< Who told you? > H'tor asked.

< The Queen Amethyst. She says it is exactly what you're looking for. >

< Did she say anything else? > H'tor asked as she opened the door to the 
hall.

There was a long pause before Haroc replied.

< No > was all he said.

H'tor glanced over to where the Warrenlady was approaching the 
apartments of Naomi and Demee. The Warrenlady was dressed in something 
besides her normal work clothes. Obviously a long dinner was planned. 
His gaze then fell on the Queen, and saw amusement in those intelligent 
eyes. < Very well. Eat your fill Haroc. I'm going to get some dinner and 
then we will return to our apartment where I'll clean our tools and I'll 
finish repairing the heavy saddle. We'll swim as soon as I get done. >

< Good! > the dragon said happily. His snout plunged into the feeding 
trough.

H'tor studied the dragon for a moment. It wasn't like Haroc to try to 
hide things from him.

After a moment's consideration on the ways of dragons he entered the 
busy dining hall. Conversations stopped and eyes tracked him as moved to 
where he could put together his evening meal.

He had reached the table when the first of the clever comments on his 
appearance began to circulate throughout the hall. He took no apparent 
notice of the jokes at his expense. Jokes about his weak attempt to 
achieve the color of the dragon Haroc were particularly popular among 
the younger dragonriders. Almost everyone had something to say about the 
filthy and blood-soaked man who felt the need to interrupt their dinner 
with his outlandish appearance. When he turned to leave with his bundle 
of food several called out to him advising how to achieve a richer, 
fuller color or suggested other ways he could liven up their evening 
meal.

He exited the dining hall without reply, stowed his supper in his pack 
and retrieved his ax and polearm from where Haroc ate noisily.

< After you finish let your meal settle properly Haroc. Let me know when 
you're ready to go. I'll be at the smithy. >

The dragon snorted, his attention dominated by his hunger.

H'tor spent the next two hours cleaning, polishing and sharpening his 
deadly weapons. When Haroc called him the lights of the warren were 
beginning to wink out. H'tor trudged across the dark green carrying his 
spotless weapons. If anything, he looked dirtier.

They flew back to their apartment where Haroc had to content himself 
watching the nightbirds wing by while H'tor worked on the heavy saddle. 
After another two hours the man appeared satisfied. He stood up and 
stretched.

< Can we go now? > Haroc asked. He'd been ready a long time ago.

< Yes > H'tor said, studying his handiwork one last time. Leaving it on 
its stand he retrieved the lighter saddle. < But we won't go where the 
Queen suggested. Remember that pool where we swam that first night we 
arrived? We'll go there. >

< But you said... > the dragon began.

< That place was the dream of a tired mind Haroc. Work has made things 
clearer. Take me to the pool. >

< Very well > the dragon replied softly.

Standing beneath a small waterfall half an hour later H'tor washed the 
last of the caked blood from his hair. The cold water peeled the grime 
away, leaving him clean once again.

He stepped from pool as pink as the day he was born. Haroc watched him 
morosely.

< Are you sure you wouldn't like to stop by the place the Queen 
suggested? > the dragon asked softly.

< No Haroc. That was a dream. I don't chase dreams. >

Then he began to dress.

***************

Submitted by Abe Barker

Rom. - Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
       Thou talk'st of nothing.
Mer. - True, I talk of dreams,
       Which are the child of an idle brain,
       Begot of nothing but vain fantasy

Romeo and Mercutio - Romeo and Juliet I.iv