Jane Yolen - Pit Dragon 02 - Heart's Blood

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Book 02 of The Pit Dragon Trilogy
Heart's Blood
By
Yolen, Jane
Contents
Introduction
chapter 1
chapter 2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
chapter 10
chapter 11
chapter 12
chapter 13
chapter 14
chapter 15
chapter 16
chapter 17
chapter 18
chapter 19
chapter 19
chapter 20
chapter 21
chapter 22
chapter 23
chapter 24
chapter 25
chapter 26
chapter 27
chapter 28
chapter 29
chapter 30
chapter 31
chapter 32
chapter 33
chapter 34
chapter 34
chapter 35
chapter 36
chapter 37
chapter 38
chapter 39
chapter 40
chapter 41
chapter 42
chapter 43
chapter 44
chapter 45
chapter 46
chapter 47
chapter 48
chapter 49
chapter 50
chapter 51
chapter 52
chapter 53
chapter 54
chapter 55
chapter 56
chapter 57
chapter 58
chapter 59
chapter 60
chapter 61
HEART’S BLOOD Jakkin risks everything—his freedom, his dragon, even his life—to rescue his
beloved in this stirring sequel to Dragon’s Blood. Author Jane Yolen has written more than 150 books
for children and adults. An ALA Best Book for Young Adults.
HEART’S BLOOD Copyright (D 1984 by Jane Yolen First published 1984 by Delacorte Press First
Magic Carpet Books edition 1996
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval
system, without permission in writing from Harcourt Brace & Company.
Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be mailed to:
Permissions Department Harcourt Brace & Company 6277 Sea Harbor Drive Orlando, Florida
32887-6777
Science Fiction Book Club edition Published by arrangement with Harcourt Brace & Company First
SFBC Science Fiction printing: September 1998
Introduction
Austar IV IS the fourth planet of a seven-planet rim system in the Erato Galaxy. Once a penal colony,
marked KK29 on the convict map system, it is a semi-and, metal-poor world with two moons.
Austar is covered by vast deserts, some of which are cut through by small and irregularly surfacing hot
springs, several small sections of fenlands, and zones of almost impenetrable mountains. There are only
five major rivers: the Narrakka, the Rokk, the Brokk-bend, the Kkar, and the Left Forkk.
Few plants grow in the deserts-some fruit cacti and sparse longtrunk palm trees known as spikka. The
most populous plants on Austar are two wild-flowering bushes called bumwort and blisterweed. (See
color section.) The mountain vegetation is only now being cataloged but promises to be much more
extensive than originally thought.
There is a variety of insect and pseudolizard life, the latter ranging from small rock-runners to
elephant-size dragons. (See Holo section, Vol. 6.) Unlike Earth reptilia, the Austarian dragon lizards are
warmblooded, with pneumaticized bones for reduction of weight and a keeled stemum where the flight
muscles are attached. They have membranous wings with jointed ribs that fold back along the animals’
bodies when the dragons are earthbound. Stretched to the fullest, an adult dragon’s wings are twice its
body size. The “feathers” are really light scales that adjust to wind pressure. From claw to shoulder,
some specimens of Austarian dragons have been measured at thirteen feet. There is increasing evidence
of level 4+ intelligence and a colorcoded telepathic mode of communication in the Austarian dragons.
These great beasts were almost extinct when the planet was first settled by convicts (KKS being the
common nickname) and guards from Earth in 2303. But several generations later the Austarians
domesticated the few remaining dragons, selectively breeding them for meat and leather and the gaming
arenas-or, as they were known from earliest times, the Pits.
The dragon Pits of Austar IV were more than just the main entertainment for early KKS. Over the years
the Pits became central to the Austarian economy. Betting syndicates developed and Federation starship
crews on long rimworld voyages began to frequent the planet on gambling forays.
Because such gambling violated cur-rent Galaxian law, illegal offworld gamesters were expelled in 2485,
from Austar IV and imprisoned on penal planet KK47, a mining colony where most of the surface is
ice-covered. Under pressure from the Federation, the Austarians then drafted a Protectorate constitution
spelling out the Federation’s administrative role in the economy of the planet, including regulation of the
gambling of offworlders and the payment of taxes (which Austarians call tithing) on gambling moneys in
exchange for starship landing bases. A fluid caste system of masters and bond slaves-the remnants of the
convict-guard hierarchy-was established by law, with a bond price set as an entrance fee into the master
class. Established at the same time was a senate, the members of which came exclusively from the master
class. The Senate performs both the executive and the legislative functions of the Austarian government
and, for the most part, represents the interests of the Federation. As in all Protectorate planets,
offworlders are subject to local laws and are liable to the same punishments for breaking them.
The Rokk, which was a fortress inhabited by the original ruling guards and their families when Austar IV
was a penal planet, is now the capital city and the starship landfall.
The entire Erato Galaxy is still only in the first stages of Protectorate status. However, because of the
fighting Pit dragons, Austar IV has become one of the better-known R & R planets in the explored
universe.
Excerpt from The Encyclopedia Galaxia, Thirtieth edition, vol. I: Aaabomia-BASE
chapter 1
THE Tmn MOONS cast shadows like blood scores across the sand. Jakkin hunkered down in the
bowl-shaped depression and listened. Inside the wood-and-stone dragonry he could hear the mewling
and scratching of hatchlings as they pipped out of their shells. One more night, maybe two, and the
hatching would be complete.
Near the stud barn was a newer, smaller barn. In that building Heart’s Blood stayed apart from the other
hens. She was still too young to breed, though under Sarkkhan’s tutelage she and Jakkin had won two
more fights. Sarkkhan said that Heart’s Blood would command the best mating prices if she fought at
least ten times in a variety of minor pits. After that, if she could win a championship in a major pit, she
would be known all over the world.
Sleep, my worin, Jakkin thought as he stood and walked past the barn. A cool river of greens
meandered slowly through his mind in response. He knew that Likkam was asleep in the bondhouse and
no other watchers had been set on his track. Sarkkhan trusted him. Jakkin would not betray that trust.
Brooming his footsteps away for the first kilometer would not keep Likkam or Sarkkhan from his private
spot, but it would keep the other bonders from finding it. He still needed a place he could go. And he
hoped that Akki might be waiting for him there.
He remembered the first time he had gone back, several weeks after the fight with Rum. Wanting to claim
the remaining rows of weed and wort plants in order to keep his debt to Sarkkhan down, he stripped the
stalks with care. He had been at work for only a few minutes when he heard a familiar mocking laugh. He
turned and had seen Akki standing near the shelter, her hands on her hips.
“I hear you won,” she said. “Ardru was there. In the Master Box. Did you see him? Was it exciting?
Was it worth the risk?”
He had walked over to her slowly. “Why haven’t you returned to the nursery?” he asked.
“Do you always answer questions with a question?” she countered. They had both laughed.
Later she told him she would never come back. “I only stayed as long as I did to help you. Because you
had a dream, just like me. If dreamers don’t help one another… But once your dream came true, it was
time for me to go. I don’t really belong in a nursery. Not anymore. I am both master and bonder,” she
said. “And I will let no man fill my bag.”
Then she added, almost under her breath, “I left the gold Sarkkhan paid for my bond on his pillow.”
Jakkin did not ask her how she got the gold. “I know Sarkkhan is your father,” he said quietly. “I am not
responsible for that.”
“Then why must you go away?” he asked. “I just told you,” she said. “Weren’t you listening?”
“You answered my question with a question,” Jakkin whispered. “I don’t want you to go.”
She said nothing, just looked at him strangely and left.
chapter 2
THE SECOND TIME she had come during the day when Jakkin had taken Heart’s Blood for a run and
a day of training. The dragon was often restless if he left her confined too long in the barn. She needed to
fly in great wheeling arcs over the oasis. And Jakkin always felt he had passed some kind of important
test each time the dragon returned to his side.
It was Heart’s Blood who had first sensed Akki’s approach, casting a gold silhouette in Jakkin’s mind.
He recognized it immediately as Akki, though it was many minutes more before she actually came into
view. “How do you know when I am going to be here?” he asked.
“I don’t. Sometimes I come when you aren’t here,” she said. “And I lie down by the pool and remember.
Or forget.”
He wanted to ask, “Remember what? Forget what?” But he didn’t. Instead, he lay down in the sand with
his head resting on the dragon’s flank. Akki sat beside him. They held hands. That was the day they
hardly spoke at all.
chapter 3
THE LAST TIME he had seen Akki was a night when he had come out to the oasis to sit and think and
be by himself. He had been worrying about an approaching fight and his nervousness had communicated
itself to Heart’s Blood. So he had come alone, expecting no one.
It had been a night of many breezes, and the swirling patterns of sand had changed over and over, a
kaleidoscope whose pieces were shaken by the winds.
Jakkin had been sitting by the shelter with his eyes closed when suddenly he felt Akki by his side. She
had moved up close to him without warning, putting her hands on either side of his face. Her palms felt as
hot as dragon’s blood on his cheeks.
She pulled him toward her and kissed him slowly, gently. She seemed to know what she was doing and
he let himself almost drown in the sweetness of her kiss. Then she pulled away suddenly and said, “I have
to go away. Really go away this time.”
He had laughed nervously, saying, “You can’t, you know. You belong here. With me. Your father gave
you to me. He said you needed a master.”
She stood up. “You’re such a boy, sometimes, Jakkin Stewart. Such a child. And so is he.” She turned
and walked away.
Jakkin had scrambled up after her, but she had run from him across the sand. He tried to follow her and
suddenly heard the roar of a truck engine ahead of him. All he found were deep tire ruts in the sand.
chapter 4
JAKKIN CAME UPON the oasis and listened, stroking the bond bag he still wore around his neck. It
was plump and jangling with coins. He had earned enough from the three fights to pay Sarkkhan his bond
and to buy Errikkin’s bond paper as well. He still owed Sarkkhan: gold for the barn and for feed, and the
choice of the second hatching. But he owed it freely, master to master. He was his own master now. He
need not wear his bag.
But Jakkin had sworn to himself that he would wear it until he could pour out the gold from the bag into
Akki’s hands and she accepted him as a master and a man. It was a promise he made to himself, and he
was a man who kept his promises. He hoped he would not have to wait too long.
For Adam Stemple, dragon master THE SECOND MOON had just lipped the horizon when Jakkin
checked the barn again. His great red dragon, Heart’s Blood, was near her birthing time, and he was
more nervous than she. All day he had wandered uneasily, walking from bondhouse to the fields, then
back to the barn, looking in on the dragon frequently as she lay in her birth stall, grooming herself. He had
rubbed her nose, patted her head between the vestigial earflaps, crooned old nursery lullabies. Then, tight
with inexpressible feelings, he would leap up and run out of the barn, threading his way across the fields
of shoulder-high burnwort or bursting into the bondhouse to watch fat Kkarina cook.
“Get out,” Kkarina had shouted at him the last time he had invaded her kitchen. She waved a large
wooden spoon at him. “You’re making me nervous with your pacing. Don’t worry so. The dragon will
know what to do when the eggs come. Believe me.”
Jakkin believed her all right. But He doubted he would know what to do. Should he crowd into the room
with Heart’s Blood? Or should he observe the egg laying from the peephole in the door, as Master
Sarkkhan advised? Or should he stay away from the barn altogether, as old Likkam had pointedly told
him to do?
“You’ll only send her your own fears,” Likkarn said. “You transmit well with that worm. She’ll add your
worries to her own. Don’t be more of an idiot, boy, than you already are.”
But Jakkin couldn’t stay away from the barn and his red. They had been together almost two years, but
in those two years they had grown up together, their thoughts linked in great colored patterns. He
wouldn’t desert her now.
As he opened the barn door, he was hit with the blood-red tide of her sending and knew it was time.
Running down the corridor, he called, “Easy, easy, my beauty.” But there was no recognition in her
churning reply.
He threw open the door of the birthing room and was almost overwhelmed by the power of her thoughts.
Suddenly he felt as she felt; for the first time there seemed no separation between them. He was engulfed
in the colors as if he himself were a great dragon hen.
The pressure in her birth canal sent waves rolling under the sternum and along her heavy stomach
muscles. She fluttered her wings, then pressed them against her sides, letting the edges touch her belly.
Stretching her neck to its fullest, she looked around, scouting the area for danger, an unconscious gesture
left over from the eons when dragons had given birth in mountain caves. The skin protrusions over her
ear holes fluttered.
Jakkin spoke again, making the sounds into a soothing chant. “Easy, easy, my beauty, easy, easy, my
red.”
Heart’s Blood opened her mouth as if to scream an answer into the dry air, but because she was a mute,
the only sounds that came out were a hungry panting: in and out, in and out.
As Jakkin watched, she circled the cavernous room three times in a halting rhythm, squatting at last over
a shallow hole she had dug in the sandy floor only that day. Then, with one final push, she began to lay.
The eggs popped out between her hind legs, a continuous production, cascading down into the sandy
nest, piling on top of one another, and quickly building up into a shaky cream-colored pyramid.
Jakkin could scarcely breathe as he watched. He leaned back against the wooden wall, waiting, running
his fingers through his hair, and stroking the leather bondbag at his neck. He longed to stroke the
dragon’s neck as well but feared to distract her, though he guessed she wouldn’t have even noticed his
touch. She was too far caught up in the birthing rhythms.
“Easy, easy,” he crooned again.
The dragon shook her head, and Jakkin felt a spillage of her usual rainbow sending patterns shoot
through his mind in colors that were a riot of reds: scarlet, carnation, crimson, and rose; fiery gems strung
on a strand of thought. For each egg, another ruby-colored jewel, and he knew there would be upward
of a hundred eggs.
Perhaps Likkam was right, and he shouldn’t be here in the room with her. Jakkin’s instant of uneasiness
made the dragon look up for a moment, causing a halt in the laying.
Jakkin smiled at her and let his thoughts gentle. She looked away, and the eggs started out again. Sliding
down to the ground, Jakkin wondered, Maybe old Likkarn was rightfor ordinary dragons, but Heart’s
Blood is not ordinary.
“Thou art a rare beast indeed,” he whispered, comforting both himself and the red with the archaic
language trainers used with the big beasts. He stroked the bondbag again and, feeling a large measure of
calm now within himself, concentrated on sending Heart’s Blood a single image to help ease the passage
of the eggs. He thought of a ribbon of clear blue water lying across a sun-flecked base of sand. One edge
of the ribbon was lined with sand-colored kkhan reeds. The image was cool, quiet, familiar. It was a
picture of the oasis where, for a year, Jakkin had raised the dragon, watching her change from a
scum-colored, wrinkled-skin hatchling into a great responding red.
The dragon’s muscles never ceased their straining, but her massive head turned once again toward the
boy. The black shrouds of her eyes lit for a moment with the crackle of red light known as dragon’s fire.
Then the eyes went dark again as she turned her thoughts inward and attended to the laying of her eggs.
Jakkin knew it would take her the better part of the night. The barn was heated for the egg laying and
warmed as well by the dragon’s body. It would be hot enough, even in the fiercest cold of Dark After,
for him to stay. But first he wanted to tell his friends, the bonders in the nursery, that she had started to
lay.
chapter 5
“EARLY LAID, EARLY paid.” Slakk greeted the news with the old saying. “What luck you have,
Jakkin.” He was sitting in the dining room, playing a hand of Four-man Flikk with the other boys.
Jakkin stumbled against the table.
“Lucky, you mean, that he’s not the one with the eggs,” shouted red-haired Trikko. “They’d all be
splattered by now.”
“How many so far?” asked Slakk.
“Worm waste, they’re just now laid, not hatched,” growled Balakk from the table where the older man
sat talking. “You’ve lived all your life in a nursery, boy, and still you know nothing.”
Slakk ignored him. “How many do you think will hatch? There’s good coins there.”
Jakkin rubbed his arm thoughtfully, tracing the thin bracelet of scar tissue that ran around his wrist. “I
don’t know, Slakk.”
“Guess.” any. ::l hope for five or six live, of course. But I’ll be thankful for “I bet nine,” said Slakk. “A
gold says nine.” He dug into his bondbag and pulled out a coin, letting it drop onto the table.
“It’s a first birth,” Jo-Janekk called from the other table. Next to him Balakk nodded. “And that means
fewer live. My gold to yours that he gets only three worth selling and one to keep.” He opened his bag,
drew out a coin, and slammed it down on the table in front of him.
“My master,” said Errikkin, standing up and putting his hand on Jakkin’s shoulder, “my master’s beast
will outbreed any on the farm. Just as she can outfight them. I’ll go one higher than Slakk. One higher
than any of you. A gold for ten.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” muttered Jakkin to Errikkin, “save your coins. Don’t waste them on such
foolishness. Of course, she’s not going to have ten live. They never do.”
But Errikkin shook his head and smiled brightly. “Ten, I say.”
Slakk laughed. “You should have had Jakkin buy your brains when he bought your bond, Errikkin. I’ll
take your gold-as always.”
“Lend me a gold, Slakk. I’m flat,” Trikko begged. “I want to bet, too.”
“No.‘
Balakk called out, “Three. Put me down for three.”
Quickly the others placed bets.
From the corner where he was sitting alone, Likkam rose. His weed-reddened eyes were rheumy, hazed
over as if with a smoky film, but his voice was steady and low. “My guess is she’ll have five. And one
born crooked. It’s all in the way you read the breed lines, boys. I’ll take your one gold and add another
for you to match. And I’ll spend your money in Krakkow next Bond-Off, laughing at you all.”
He slammed the two coins on the table in front of Slakk, then went out the door.
“Old Likk-and-Spittle,” said Slakk as the door shut, but he was careful to say nothing until Likkam was
out of hearing. “What does he know?”
“More than you ever will, bonder,” Balakk said. “Put your money down.”
Jakkin left, too, the sound of coins on the table accompanying him. The bickering was getting on his
nerves, but what bothered him the most was the callous betting on Heart’s Blood’s eggs. All that dragons
meant to the bondboys was money. “First laid, first paid,” indeed. Heart’s Blood was more than just a
brood hen, more than just a mighty Pit fighter. She was-his other self, he supposed.
He went into his room, grabbed the blanket from the bed, and went back to the barn.
chapter 6
THE EGG LAYING and the night were done. Jakkin had hardly slept, dozing fitfully in the overwarm
barn. Still groggy, he watched as a sticky, yellow-white liquid afterbirth trickled out of the dragon’s birth
canal, coating the pyramid of eggs and holding them together. He knew that after this, she would leave
the clutch of eggs and retreat to the farthest corner of the room to clean herself thoroughly with her long,
rough-ribbed tongue. Then she would fall asleep for a full day and night.
Jakkin had been a bonder in a dragon nursery most of his life. He knew what to expect. In the wild the
birthing would have been done on the sandy floor of a pumice cave, and the hen would have slept in the
cave mouth, her warm bulk raising the temperature in the cave during the cold of Dark After. Nothing
would wake her in that comalike sleep as she recovered from the hard work of egg laying. Some of the
first wild dragons captured by the early KKS had been taken while they slept such birth-sleeps.
Jakkin had a sudden illuminating thought. It must have been because of that sleep that so many eggs had
to be dropped. There was always danger while the dragon slept that one of the many egg-eaters would
find the clutch. Perhaps the fierce flying drakk would sniff out the dragon’s cave. Or the tiny
cave-dwelling flikka, all teeth and tail, which could pierce even the hard shell of a dragon’s egg, might
already be living there. That had to be why most of the eggs were empty. They were decays for the
suckers. Of the hundreds dropped, no more than eight or nine ever actually contained live hatchlings.
And no wild dragons had ever been seen with more than one or two young.
Most of Jakkin’s information had been gathered from bonder gossip, or from the few books he had read,
or from talking with Master Sarkkhan. Bonders were always open and giving with their information.
Some of it Jakkin had found correct, and some of it, he had discovered this past year, was spectacularly
wrong. The books all were scientifically accurate but much too dry and technical for easy reading. And
they were surprisingly cautious about some things that any trainer knew. For example, one book had
said, “Trainers often claim to understand dragon thought.”
“Claim!” Jakkin smiled as Heart’s Blood reacted to his mood with a slight shiver and a sending that
showed a solitary dark, jagged blob racing across an otherwise bland sand-colored landscape.
Master Sarkkhan, who owned the nursery and knew so much after a lifetime with dragons, was stingy
with his facts because he believed any good breeder or trainer should find his own way in the world.
“Grow up with your worm” was the way he put it.
Jakkin had been slowly piecing it all together-with the help of Heart’s Blood. The dragon was teaching
him, teaching him more than had the rest. And that is how it should be, he reminded himself,
unconsciously echoing Sarkkhan. “A man should learn from his dragon just as the dragon should learn
from the man.”
He ran his hand through his hair once again, wondering if Heart’s Blood was learninganything from him at
all. Although he was seventeen and no longer a bonder, he did not feel much like a man. The other
bonders called him a man, but then they called anyone who could buy himself out of bond that. And he
had fought a drakk by himself, which Kkarina said was confirmation of manhood. But he was still waiting
for a shift in feelings, some sure recognition that boyhood had ended and manhood begun, as sure a
demarcation as the lines on a map.
He touched the leather at his neck. The very fact that he still wore a bondbag when he was a master was
his own sign to himself that he didn’t feel like a man. Not yet.
His hand stayed on the bag while he watched the hen dragon heave herself to her feet and shuffle off to
the darkest corner of the room. She houghed once and lay down. As the dragon settled into the rhythm
of cleaning herself, Jakkin slipped out through the door. There was nothing more for him to watch. In the
superheated room the eggs would start to hatch in a day or two. Until that time he would have to find
other things to do.
His stomach suddenly reminded him that it was breakfast time.
The dark passageway in the barn made one small turning. It was only a few more steps to the outside
door.
Jakkin could see the rim of light under the door frame. He stopped for a moment, closed his eyes to
make everything darker still, and concentrated on a final sending. Before he could push a gentle memory
of their oasis days toward Heart’s Blood, he felt her mind reach out first. As always, it was a wordless
color display that was easy enough for him to translate. He could touch the minds of the other dragons in
the nursery, but none was so clear to him.
What Heart’s Blood was saying was that she was… satisfied. “Happy” was too strong a word, too
human a word to describe what she felt. Her thinking, her emotions were very different from his. She
was, simply, alien. However, Jakkin could always make a quick, rough translation, and he knew what
she meant. The egg laying was completed. She would finish cleaning herself, then lie down for the long
sleep. Everything was as it should be, and she was… satisfied.
The colors of her sending faded off into a peaceful rose landscape, a replica of the farm as it was seen
from above.
Jakkin, satisfied as well, pushed through the door and out into the assaulting, harsher colors of the day.
chapter 7
“MASTER SARKKHAN WANTS you to eat with him tonight,” Ertikkin said as Jakkin came into the
bondhouse. His smile turned what must have been a command into an invitation, but he delivered it with
the half bow, half bob he had affected ever since Jakkin had bought his bond. “Dinner at his house.”
“Fewmets!” muttered Jakkin. “I wish you’d stop that bowing. It embarrasses me.”
Errikkin shrugged and bobbed again, almost imperceptible this time. “But I like doing it,” he said, still
smiling. “I like showing you how I feel. After all, you promised to buy my bond from Master Sarkkhan
when you had enough gold, and you did. I bow because I’m grateful. They say a good master makes a
grateful servant, so you must be a good master.” He paused, then added, “And you pay me more for less
摘要：

 Color---1--2--3--4--5--6--7--8--9-TextSize--10--11--12--13--14--15--16--17--18--19--20--21--22--23--24Book02ofThePitDragonTrilogyHeart'sBloodByYolen,JaneContentsIntroductionchapter1chapter2chapter3chapter4chapter5chapter6chapter7chapter8chapter9chapter10chapter11chapter12chapter13chapter14chapter15...

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