Every Thorn Has Its Rose Chapter 9

Spina continued to eat voraciously, and she continued to grow apace. After nine days, her harness could no longer be adjusted to fit her; it was time to equip her with a new one. The ground crew who were assigned to the breeding grounds were well-practiced at this task, and they had an assortment of harnesses with various proportions for slender, average-built, and heavily-built dragons. It should have been a simple exercise, over and done with in an hour at the most.

St. Hubbins and Rose supervised the process, but did not get involved. For one thing, they knew that the ground crew could do the job without help. For another, they were still working out how to relate to each other professionally. The lieutenant was legally in command, but the dragon would listen only to the ensign. Tufnel had tried to resolve this contradiction by dominating and denigrating Rose, but neither Rose nor Spina would have any part of that. St. Hubbins didn't want to repeat Tufnel's mistake, but he didn't want to give anyone the impression that he was not in control of the situation, either. Rose appreciated the difficulty of his position, and tried not to cause problems for him; she knew that, if the Admiral fired him the way he'd fired Tufnel, his replacement would surely be less competent and less pleasant. Spina followed Rose's lead, and the unlikely trio had encountered no insoluble problems so far. They all knew that a potentially catastrophic collision of personalities might be just around the corner, though, so they could not fully relax with each other. In terms of swapping out the Longwing's harness, that meant that Rose didn't want to make the ground crew think she was in charge, and St. Hubbins didn't want to make Spina think he was trying to take over. So neither of them gave any orders, and merely watched the process.

Spina also watched. She was naturally curious about nearly anything new or unfamiliar, but she had a special concern as well. It involved the upper chest strap of her harness, or to be more specific, the small array of golden rings and chains that hung from that strap. One of those rings was a gift from Rose; the others were bribes from Lt. Tufnel, which hadn't displeased the dragon but had failed to alter her low opinion of him. Tufnel was gone, the gold remained, and Spina kept a very careful eye on her treasures as the old harness was removed and the new one fitted on.

The ground crew knew their job, and they had no fear of dragons; the operation went fairly quickly. One buckle on the old harness had been bent out of shape from too many hard landings, and had to be straightened with hand tools, but everything else came off smoothly. The gold was set aside in a small pile, where Spina could keep a fretful eye on it, while the new harness was fitted and adjusted. This harness was made for a somewhat larger dragon than Spina, so she could (hopefully) wear this one for three or four weeks before she outgrew it. The crew spent a few minutes testing the fit of each strap, and adjusting the buckles accordingly. Then they stepped aside, waiting for something to happen.

After a few seconds, the ground-crew leader, a petty officer named Young who had lost his left eye in battle, said, "Spina, it's customary for the dragon to shake the new harness and tell us if any portion is too tight or too loose, or to say, 'All lies well' if the fit is good."

"First, put my gold back," she said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Young nodded, squatted in front of the small pile so Spina could watch his every motion, and threaded the rings and chains onto a thin steel cable with loops on both ends. He then attached the loops to the buckles of the harness so the cable hung in front of the chest strap. "Is that acceptable?" he asked as he stepped back.

Spina craned her neck, examined the gold, and growled, "One ring is missing."

Young quickly scanned the ground. "I replaced everything that was in the pile," he said, with a touch of impending panic. "Are you sure?"

"I had five rings," she snarled. "Now there are four. Where is my fifth ring? WHERE IS IT?!" Her voice had suddenly risen to a roar; everyone backed away a step or two, even Rose.

"Empty your pockets, Petty Officer," St. Hubbins said quickly, not wanting the situation to get out of control. Petty Officer Young turned out his pockets; the missing ring was not there. Spina was getting more agitated by the moment; she was pacing back and forth, flicking her tongue and sniffing the ground, oblivious to whom she might knock over. "Who took the gold off her old harness?" the lieutenant demanded.

"I think it was Payne," Young said, pointing to one of the crewmen.

"Payne, front and center!" St. Hubbins ordered. "Empty your pockets." He did so. There was no ring.

"Find it!" Spina ordered, in a good imitation of St. Hubbins' command voice.

"I don't know where else it could be," St. Hubbins said helplessly. Spina looked like she was ready to tear someone's head off, literally.

Then Rose spoke up. "Wait a minute. Payne, what is your wife's name?"

"My wife's name? I don't... uhh... that is, I mean to say..."

"Petty Officer Young, is Mister Payne married?" she demanded.

"No, ma'am," he exclaimed, surprised. "We are all of us bachelors. That's normal for the Corps."

"I thought so." There was a touch of triumph in Rose's voice. "All right, Payne. If you're unmarried, then what is that ill-fitting band of gold on your left ring finger?" She grabbed his hand and held it up to Spina. "Is this your missing ring?"

The dragon bent down, sniffed Payne's hand, and roared so loudly, the force of her voice nearly knocked him over. Droplets of acid appeared at the ends of her side-teeth.

"For Heaven's sake, give it back before she bites your empty head off!" St. Hubbins begged. The frightened crewman wiggled the ring off his finger, dropped it on the ground, and tried to run. Spina leaped and landed right in front of him, snarled viciously, and hit him with her wing to send him flying through the air, right back to where he'd just stood. He landed hard and was slow getting up. Two of his teammates grabbed his arms and held him so he could go nowhere.

St. Hubbins glared at the man. "Robbery is never smart, Payne, and robbing a dragon is doubly stupid. I'm amazed that you aren't dead three different ways! Obviously, Fate wants you alive. So I'm going to be generous and –"

"Sir," Rose interrupted, "I urgently suggest that we give Spina her gold back first!" The dragon was quivering all over; she looked like she was fighting to hold herself back from pouncing on the man. Her claws were almost long enough to go through his entire body. One pounce would be instantly fatal.

"If we restore the ring, then Spina will not part with it again, and we can't use it as evidence when we court-martial Payne for theft," St. Hubbins thought out loud. "On the other hand, if we do not restore it, then there's no use in court-martialing a dead man. Yes, do as you suggest." Rose picked up the ring and, with shaking hands, threaded it onto the cable with Spina's other treasures. The Longwing counted her gold treasures again and relaxed, very slightly.

"As I was saying," St. Hubbins said to the trembling Payne, "I am going to be generous and offer you a choice. But it is not the choice I was going to offer you before, because without the ring as evidence, we cannot court-martial you. So here are your choices.

"Option Number One is that you will buy another gold ring, give it to Spina as compensation for stealing from her, and then resign from the Aviator Corps. She still will not like you or trust you, but your gift will placate her to some extent, and you will most likely never see her again."

"A gold ring would take all the money I've got!" Payne exclaimed. "What's my other option?"

The lieutenant glared at him. "Option Number Two is to spend the rest of your military career in close proximity to a large, angry dragon who would like nothing better than to rip out your intestines and throttle you with them. I suspect it would be a very short career, but a colorful one. You have five minutes to decide... if the dragon lets you live that long."

Payne was torn. "I've been in the Corps since I was eight years old! It's the only life I've ever known. If I resign, what else can I do?"

St. Hubbins glared at him. "You can breathe. You can eat and drink. You can walk, and talk, and search for work. These are all things that you can not do if you spend ten more minutes next to that dragon. This is not a trick question, Payne!"

For a few seconds, there was no sound except for the heavy breathing of the dragon.

"I'll get her a ring," Payne said quietly.

"I do not want a ring that he picked out," Spina objected. "He can give his money to Rose, and she can buy me something golden."

"I ain't paying my fine to a woman," Payne snarled.

"Then you'll pay it to me," St. Hubbins decided. "Spina, would you accept something golden from my hand?"

Spina thought that over. "I accepted gold from Lt. Tufnel, and he was much less pleasant than you are. If I cannot have something golden from Rose, then I will accept it from you. Of course, I will still like her best."

"That's understood," the lieutenant smiled. He turned back to Payne, and his smile vanished. "You have one week to make full payment and submit your resignation. After that... I'm told that a dragon's justice can be very messy."

Payne glanced at the still-livid dragon. "I'll pay," he whispered.

St. Hubbins nodded. "Petty Officer Young, is there anything else that you require?"

"I await the dragon's verdict on our day's work, sir," Young answered formally.

"Oh, yes," Spina exclaimed. "My apologies. I became distracted." She shook herself, flapped her wings, and wiggled her tail from front to back. She reared up and shook her forelegs, then shook each hind leg individually. "All lies well," she finally said.

"Excellent," the petty officer said. "We are done here." As his men began to move, he caught Payne by the arm. "You've brought shame and disgrace on our entire team!" he snapped. "The dragon will never trust any of us again. Your punishment is –"

"Hey! I thought my punishment was all settled!" Payne objected.

"That was your deal with the dragon! Your deal with me is, you get to drag the old harness back to the storage barn! By yourself!"

Payne glanced in dismay at the thick metal-reinforced leather harness. "That thing is too heavy for one man! It can't be done!"

Without a word, the petty officer leaned forward and head-butted Payne. The man leaped back, moaning and clutching his nose in agony.

"Now you've got another choice to make," Young said casually. "You can say, 'Thank you, sir, may I have another?' or you can start dragging that harness."

"But.. but that thing weighs almost a hundredweight!" Payne protested. "One man can't move it that far by himself!"

"Then I suggest you unbuckle it into sections and make several trips."

"But that will take all day!" the man argued. Young stepped forward; Payne jumped back and dodged another head-butt. "All right, all right, I'll do it!"

"You had better reassemble it correctly when you're done, because I'm going to inspect it!" the petty officer threatened. "If you're smart, you will keep your distance from the dragon while you're working. Oh – and don't put in an appearance at the mess tent until you've finished."

Rose watched as the man tried to get to the old harness. The moment he took a step toward it, Spina growled at him and he backed off. "Spina, are you defending that harness?" she asked.

"I care nothing for the harness," the dragon answered without taking her eye off of Payne. "It is him that I heartily dislike."

"Perhaps we should go flying," St. Hubbins suggested. "It would defuse the situation on the ground, and there is something about Spina that we have not investigated yet." He climbed onto Spina's back, then offered his gloved hand to Rose. She took it as she scrambled onto her dragon's neck. They both clipped themselves to the new harness and Rose called, "Crew is aboard!" They braced themselves as Spina ran across the ground and leaped skyward.

As soon as her flight attitude stabilized, she looked back at her riders. "What is it about me that you have not investigated yet?" she asked. "You have looked into my speed in level flight, my speed in a dive, my rate of climb, my maximum altitude, my maneuverability at various speeds, my load-lifting ability, my sense of direction, and the amount of space I require for taking off and for landing. You have tested my intelligence, my problem-solving ability, my memory, my reaction to being startled, and my susceptibility to anger; you have checked my eyesight up close and at a distance, my ability to distinguish colors, my hearing, and my sense of smell, both nasally and with my tongue; you have weighed me and measured me in a dozen different ways, and you even weigh the food I eat, which is an indignity to which no human is subjected, I am sure. Is there an aspect of me that you have not investigated?"

"Your venom," St. Hubbins answered. "On the day you hatched, you destroyed three iron door hinges in a matter of seconds. That is something that no other dragon could do; even a Sharpspitter's venom is not that powerful. I'd like to find some targets of different kinds, and see how effective you are at destroying those targets."

"Oh! That almost sounds like fun!" Spina exclaimed. "What sort of targets did you have in mind?"

"We'll start with something organic," the lieutenant decided. "Those dead trees just ahead of us will do nicely. Give one a squirt and let's see what happens." Spina dipped in the air, lined up on the copse of trees, and squeezed off a quick burst of acid. The two-inch-thick tree trunk smoldered, blackened, and toppled over within about seven seconds.

"Wow!" Rose exclaimed. "Spina, remind me never to get you angry at me!"

"I would never get that angry at you," Spina said peacefully. The implication was clear; she might get that angry at someone else.

"I'm impressed with your accuracy, Spina," St. Hubbins added. "Hitting a target that small, while flying through the air, is something that very few human sharpshooters can do."

"I daresay there are very few human sharpshooters who can fly through the air at all," Spina answered drily. Rose chuckled.

"I meant while they were riding on a dragon," St. Hubbins explained lamely. "All right, let's try something different. That flat rock down there. Hit it!" They experimented on anything they could see, knowing that as long as they were within the breeding ground, the Longwing wasn't damaging anything that belonged to anyone. Her acid proved to be utterly lethal; it demolished living tissue in seconds, and ate holes in solid rock in less than half a minute. Her aim was also deadly and unerring. Her only limitations seemed to be the fact that she could shoot only downward, and that she ran dry after about fifteen minutes of repeated short shots.

"Can you tell when you're running out of venom?" Rose asked her.

"Yes, but it is not an exact thing," Spina answered. "I cannot say, 'I have three more shots left.' It is more like, 'I will run out very soon.' And, because I know you will ask this question next, I do not know how long it will take me to recharge myself. I have never run myself dry before." She suddenly assumed an awkward position in the air, with her head down nearly to her chest.

"Are you counting your gold treasures again?" Rose asked with a touch of amusement.

"I am simply making sure," Spina said as she raised her head again. "By the way, Rose, that was terribly clever of you to find my ring the way you did. This morning's events gave me a terrible fright."

"Honestly, Spina, I think you gave all of us a terrible fright this morning," St. Hubbins said. "I, for one, never want to see you that angry again... unless that anger is being unleashed on our enemies! Let's go back home and take the rest of the afternoon off. I think we all need it."