‘Good thing, too,’ Garelko said. ‘Sir, there is a dragon in your yard.’

Raest set his tankard down. ‘Only the wicked know peace.’ With a grunt he arose, gathering up a dusty, stained leather cloak that hung on a peg to one side of the door. That it had been hanging there for a long time was evinced by the stretched nipple that remained when he shrugged it on, riding his left shoulder. Tathenal turned away, hand covering the lower half of his face as he fought against an unseemly guffaw.

Garelko dared but a single glance at his fellow husband, lest he too burst loose in unholy mirth. Instead, he pushed his chair back and half stood. ‘Good sir, I will accompany you. Accosting a dragon seems perhaps dangerous. See how I am armoured and armed—’

Ravast added, ‘Do join dear Raest, then. We’ve seen off one dragon already, although that was mostly me and my axe in its foot. I leave this one to you, old goat. Tathenal is welcome to the next one.’ He reached for Garelko’s unwanted bowl of unwelcome mutton stew.

‘I require no armed escort,’ Raest said, now collecting a leather cap, such as might be worn beneath a helm, which he pulled on with some effort, only to remove it immediately, reaching into the cap and withdrawing what looked like a mouse’s nest of dry grasses. Emptied, the cap proved a better fit. Thus attired, the Jaghut opened the door once more and strode outside.

Garelko followed. ‘Good sir,’ he began, ‘about that other dragon—’

‘Kilmandaros has much to answer for,’ Raest cut in.

Before them, filling most of the clearing, the dragon stood upon its four squat limbs in a weary crouch, its tattered wings half cocked in the manner of an exhausted bird. Its massive head was turned and glittering eyes regarded them.

Frowning, Garelko said to Raest, ‘Sir, you take in vain the name of our sweet if fictional goddess mother.’

‘Oh, she’s real enough, Thel Akai. She’s never liked dragons, you see, and it seems some of her prejudice now infuses her wayward children. You may well be in the habit of attacking them, but not here and not now. So listen well. Draw not that weapon. Make no threat. Be gentle in your regard – well, as gentle as that face of yours can manage. As for the conversation, leave that to me.’

‘Conversation? Sir, with this wind I can barely hear you as it is.’

‘Not with you, idiot. With the dragon.’

‘I will delight in being the first Thel Akai to hear the slithery speech of a dragon, then!’

‘You will hear her or not. The choice belongs to her, not you.’

‘A female then! How can you tell?’