“First of all, we didn’t know they would all hatch out different colors,” Kiron replied. “Second, from a distance they can still be confused—take Avatre, she’s scarlet and gold, which is awfully close to Pe-atep’s Deoth, who’s red and sand colored. Or Kalen’s Se-atmen, brown and gold, who could be taken for Oset-re’s copper-red Apetma. And third, we’re only the first wing of tame desert dragons. There are two female desert dragons that can provide us with more eggs every two years. Eventually there are going to be Jousters with the same color dragons; we need ways to tell them apart in the air, and we might as well start now and get our eyes used to looking for the combination of dragon colors and rider and harness colors.”

“Ah,” the assistant said, contented now. “You see, I like to know why one is asked to do something unusual—”

“And thus, you are too damned curious and prying, you young whelp,” the old man growled. “If you worked as well as you jabbered, we’d have the harnesses done by now.”

“Yes, master,” the assistant said, sounding not at all subservient. He turned back to Kiron. “And you are wanting streamers that can be easily torn away in the same colors as well?”

Kiron nodded. “We’ll be using them in training, to teach the dragons to get in close for harassment, but I don’t want something that is going interfere with flying—”

The assistant dismissed that with a shrug. “Colored grass, loosely woven,” he replied. “Fastened to the back of the saddle. Easily done.”

“As easily as I am going to beat you if we don’t get these dragons measured!” scolded the old man. “Get on with you!”

The two of them moved on to Apetma’s pen. Orest and Kiron exchanged grins.

“What were those extra straps you ordered for?” Orest asked when they had gone. “He didn’t ask about those.”

“Probably because they seem perfectly logical to someone who has never been a Jouster,” Kiron replied, sobering. “I don’t want any accidents. Avatre and I still haven’t mastered the ‘falling-man’ catch. Maybe the senior Jousters will think this is effete, but I want all of you belted down into your saddles when we begin training.”

Orest nodded slowly. “I’ve no objection,” he replied, slowly. “Now that I’ve been up on dragons—it’s a long way down to the ground. I wouldn’t like to fall—”

“Oh, I’m not worried about falling. The Tian Jousters used to say that it isn’t the fall that kills you,” Kiron replied with a straight face.

“Oh? So what is it?” Once again, Orest walked straight into the joke.

“It’s the hitting the ground that kills you,” Kiron replied, and ran out of Wastet’s pen with a brush following him.