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his special occasion boots, and his formal dragoneer jacket. On the right jacket breast, he wore three rows of honor ribbons that represented the actual medals themselves. Four" white ribbons for his silver Campaign Stars, five scarlet ones for his Battle Stars, plus four special honors including a white-and-green one for the Legion Medal of Honor and a golden square with a black circle for the Legion Star, the highest honor the legion could bestow. The medals themselves reposed in his safe chest, deposited with the quartermaster of the Dragon House.
    On his head went his Marneri cap, blue with a red outline thread, and at his waist he wore his best dirk and scabbard,, already polished to a frightening degree.
    Then he set off for the Tower of Guard. Leaving the ground floor, which was open to the public, he showed his invitation to the guards and was allowed through. He climbed to the Tarcho apartments and was admitted through the wide double doors into the gracious hallway of white plaster walls and red tile floor. He passed the line of ancestor portraits, at least twenty in that one room, and met Lagdalen at the door to the receiving salon.
    They embraced as if they were brother and sister, and in a way they were. They had served together in the legendary campaign to Tummuz Orgmeen. At one point they had been alone, lost in the darkness beneath the dread city, all their companions taken or dead and with no company except a dying witch.
    Lagdalen patted his chest with her fist.
    "You are grown to be a man, Relkin of Quosh."
    "And you are the mother of the most beautiful child in all Marneri, Lagdalen Dragonfriend."
    "Hush, she will hear you praise her and awake, and we have only just gotten her down. At the age of two and a half our Laminna has become quite imperial in her demands. We are kept busy satisfying her, believe me."
    Captain Kesepton came by and waved away Relkin's salute. "Within these walls we can dispense with the salute, my friend. Come, you must meet the company."
    Lagdalen introduced him to her father, Tommaso, and her mother, Lacustra. They both inquired after the health and well-being of the broketail dragon.
    "Verily do I wish that he could be here," said Tommaso. "I pray that we will be able to entertain him in the summer months and receive him in person at our house in Gatchby."
    There was little chance of that, thought Relkin, if they were all to be shipped off somewhere, but he smiled and replied as politely as possible.
    "I know that he would be honored to attend. But he would be very hungry. You know what that could mean."
    Tommaso laughed. He had served in the tower for more than twenty years, but once he had fought in Kenor with the legions and he knew how hungry a dragon could become.
    "You had better listen to him, Mother, I don't think you've ever served dinner to a wyvern. Why just one of them could eat this entire banquet!"
    "Tush!" she replied, "we could afford to feed one dragon whatever he wanted." She peered at Relkin for a moment. "And this young man looks famished. I don't think they feed you enough in the legion."
    Relkin, Hollein Kesepton, and Tommaso roared at this, knowing as they did that the legions ate enormous meals, albeit of basic foodstuffs.
    Relkin was led in and introduced to a couple of uncles, to Lagdalen's younger brother, Rozerto, a beaming fifteen-year-old with a well-fed look, and to Aunt Solomia and a train of other ladies of mother Lacustra's circle.
    There was a long table, and Relkin was seated at the end on the right, beside Tommaso, with Hollein Kesepton beside him, Uncle Iapetor opposite, and young Rozerto beside him. A course of heggeli cheese with wafers and limes was served, and they drank to the emperor's health with glasses of white wine from Kadein. Then came a plate of oysters, and then roast ptarmigan, served with a light red wine from Minuend. Relkin surreptitiously let out his belt a notch. In truth, this was a rare feast for a dragonboy who usually