Chapter 28: THE WINTER DRAGON MUSTER

RAIGORO’S POV

The first Winter Muster dragon crossed Blackharrow’s outer wall before the second horn finished.

Five days later, the Citadel had stopped pretending dragons could arrive quietly.

By midmorning, horns answered one another from the outer towers while ground crews filled the lower military courts with harness frames, inspection tables, feed carts, medical crates, and enough paperwork to prove that dragons required nearly as much administration as soldiers.

The first companies had begun arriving the same day the Muster was announced. Since then, Raigoro had cleared the territorial audiences postponed during his northern absence, reviewed repairs after the winter gathering, and returned as much of the Citadel as possible to its ordinary schedule.

The dragons had other ideas.

Those same five days had given Daric time to exhaust the first obvious path through Valence’s records.

Raigoro spent the first part of the morning in the Command Archive.

Daric arrived carrying three folders.

"That few?"

"That many."

Daric placed the first on the table.

"Current Valence succession records."

Raigoro did not open it.

"They say Selena is Odran’s only acknowledged daughter."

"Yes."

"We knew that."

"We did."

The second folder contained older Blackharrow diplomatic copies.

Daric opened one register to a marked page.

"These look older. They are not independent."

Raigoro read the archive notation.

Copied from the Royal Diplomatic Office of Valence.

"Official Valence notices."

"Every one I checked from the relevant period."

Which meant Odran’s government had controlled the source even when another kingdom preserved the copy.

Daric opened another volume.

"This one predates several of the modern files, but the royal-household pages from the end of Queen Elara’s reign are damaged."

Water had warped the paper. Several lines had bled into one another until names and dates became useless.

"The next complete Blackharrow collection begins after Elara died," Daric continued.

Raigoro closed the volume.

"And the foreign archives?"

"Requests are moving through the diplomatic courier routes. Merovia, Belland, two treaty repositories, and three religious registries that received Valence household notices. I also requested the transfer history of our old western embassy collection."

"Any answers?"

"Not yet. The Merovian archive schedule alone puts a proper search at several weeks after they receive the request. Longer if the collection was moved out of the capital."

"So we wait."

"For foreign records, yes."

The damaged register offered nothing more. Daric had followed the correct path. It simply ended before reaching an answer.

"Do we have proof Odran possessed another royal-blooded woman close enough in age to pass beneath the veil?"

"No."

Daric closed the folder.

"It means Blackharrow does not currently possess proof of one."

Good.

Absence of a record was useful only when there was reason to believe the record should have survived.

Here, there was no such certainty.

The Blood Compact had confirmed genuine Valence royal blood. Selena had still been speaking shortly before the wedding, while the woman Odran gave him had already been unable to speak before Raigoro entered Valence.

Daric still had no independent record that explained both facts. Until he did, injury and substitution remained possible.

"Keep the foreign inquiries active," he said.

Daric gathered the first two folders.

"I intended to."

"The archive search does not replace your other work."

"I was hoping you remembered I was First Sword."

"Intelligence, internal security, field readiness, and whatever problem no one else wants."

"A flattering definition."

A dragon bellowed beneath the archive windows. Another answered from farther across the Citadel.

"There is a Muster outside."

Daric glanced toward the windows.

"I noticed."

Raigoro opened the third folder.

The seal impressed into the top letter belonged to Asteva.

King Severin.

That explained why Daric had saved it for last.

Raigoro broke the seal.

Severin acknowledged Blackharrow’s emergency authority, then drew a line around Asteva’s private contractors, civilian warehouses, and merchant accounts. He would provide inventories relevant to the Ashen defense under a defined legal scope. He would not permit Blackharrow an unrestricted search through another sovereign Crown’s internal commerce.

Inconveniently, the distinction was defensible.

Daric leaned against the table.

"How angry is he?"

"Not enough to make a bad argument."

"That sounds worse."

"It usually is."

Raigoro continued.

Severin’s final page questioned Raigoro’s use of the Blood-and-Flame Covenant. The issue was its precedent rather than its legality.

An ancient marriage penalty revived as treaty enforcement between sovereign Crowns could, Severin argued, become dangerous long after the current rulers were dead. Raigoro might consider himself justified in collecting what Valence owed. Another ruler might use the same precedent for a less defensible claim.

Daric watched him finish.

"Well?"

"He wants defined limits on the logistics review."

"Will you give them?"

"Yes."

Daric’s expression changed.

"I said defined limits. I did not say his limits."

That appeared to restore his expectations.

"And the covenant?"

"Already sealed."

"So no."

"His concern is precedent, not this marriage."

"And is he wrong?"

Raigoro put the letter down.

"No."

That did not make the covenant invocation wrong either.

Odran had let men die while ignoring obligations his ancestors had accepted in exchange for Blackharrow guarding the Ashen Gate.

Raigoro would make the same decision again with the same facts.

Severin was still correct that laws survived the men who believed they would always use them wisely.

Raigoro pulled a blank page closer.

"Tell Asteva I will specify which supply categories Blackharrow requires for Ashen verification and why. No blanket access to civilian accounts."

Daric nodded.

"And the covenant?"

"Tell him if he wants to reform the treaty penalties, he may propose amendments after the present defense crisis."

Daric smiled slightly.

"That will please him."

"I am not writing for pleasure."

"That has always been apparent."

Raigoro ignored him.

By noon, the Northern Dragon Heights and the adjoining military support courts had begun reorganizing around the Muster.

Dragon Host companies arrived on staggered schedules so the upper roost platforms and landing terraces would not become crowded. Dragonkeepers managed handling, feeding, and safe positioning while dragon healers examined wings, claws, mouths, old injuries, and the places where riding frames rested against scale. Harness crews and armorers moved in once the keepers cleared each dragon for work.

The work was familiar enough that Raigoro barely noticed most of it.

His wife did.

He saw her from the upper military gallery shortly after midday.

She stood behind the marked visitor line with Alma and Mistress Hale. Two Household Guards remained several steps behind them.

She had spent most of the journey north regarding dragons as if they might unexpectedly remember she was edible.

Now she was leaning forward.

Only slightly.

Still forward.

Below, a brown mountain dragon had planted one forefoot over a leather inspection case and refused to move.

Its keeper tugged.

The dragon did nothing.

The Dragon Host officer tried next.

Nothing.

A second keeper approached with a bucket of meat.

The dragon removed its foot immediately.

His wife looked toward Alma.

Alma said something Raigoro could not hear. His wife’s shoulders moved once. Probably amusement.

At the opposite end of the court, a smaller green-gray dragon stole a strip of meat from the feeding station beside it.

Its neighbor noticed.

The resulting argument required three keepers, two poles, and one Dragon Host officer yelling, "You already ate yours."

His wife watched the offending dragon chew.

Raigoro had seen enough people meet Dragon Host dragons for the first time to recognize the usual reactions.

They stared at teeth, fire, and wings.

His wife kept watching the keepers.

She noticed which dragon obeyed which person, which keeper stood close enough to touch, and which Dragon Host officer remained out of reach when a tail moved.

She was studying them.

On the road north, she had watched dragons for danger. Here, she watched the people who knew how to live beside them.

A dragon horn sounded from the western wall.

Everyone in the gallery turned.

Raigoro crossed toward the open arch.

Dark shapes appeared above the mountain ridge.

One.

Then four more behind it.

The leading dragon banked toward the upper roosts, wings catching the pale winter light. Another formation emerged from the cloud line farther east.

Eight dragons.

Then eleven.

The first major Muster companies had arrived.

Below him, his wife stepped closer to the stone rail.

She did not retreat when the shadows crossed over her.