“We’ll help!” replied Baken. Then he hesitated, and looked at Kiron. “That is, if—”

A memory flashed through Kiron’s mind, of how Baken had made friendly overtures to him despite being given very unfriendly treatment on Kiron’s part. How Baken had inadvertently been the one who had taught him what he needed to know to train Avatre. Without Baken, he probably would never have escaped successfully with her.

“Baken, we’ve done without dragon boys this long, why start spoiling us?” he said with a laugh. “No, this is important. Kaleth has said we must have more dragons, and until ours are old enough to breed, this is the only way we’ll get them. You build the hatching pen, and as many more new pens as you can. We’ll see if we can spot any groups of the old Jousting dragons about, and when we find them, we’ll start watching them, or asking the Bedu to, and—trust to luck and to Haras.”

“Haras will favor us,” said the young priest firmly.

“He must. If he fails to do so—he may well find himself with no one to worship him but those the advisers deem too unimportant or ineffectual to repress.”

Kiron winced. But after what he had seen in Alta, he couldn’t find it in him to disagree.

He slept better that night, with Avatre literally within reach (she had elected to rest her head on the platform, with her nose just inside his shelter!) than he had since the first days of utter exhaustion following their arrival in Sanctuary. It was good to be with his beloved again, good to have her scent of hot stone and spice in his nostrils, good to know that if anything disturbed her in the night he would be right there to soothe her.