DragonQuest (11 page)

A chill ran down her spine, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She cautiously looked around, wondering whether someone was watching her, whether someone who could listen in on her thoughts was doing so at that very moment.

Leetu busily buffed a major dragon’s side with a polishing rag.

Fenworth dozed under the shade of the other large dragon’s leathery wing. Kale looked more closely. In the tangle of vines and branches that would transform into beard and hair when the wizard awoke, an open eye stared out of a bark-encrusted face. One eye, open and staring. One eye, trained on her, unblinking and eerily focused. The eyelid closed, and Kale let out a breath she had not known she was holding. Fenworth was asleep. He didn’t know.

         
19
         

H
IDDEN
T
ALENTS

Kale heard Dar and Bardon fencing long before she wanted to leave her bedroll. The questing party had been camped by the kimen falls for almost three weeks, and each dawn Dar and Bardon engaged in mock combat. She knew Leetu Bends and Lee Ark would soon step in to give instructions.

At first, all of them had tried to get Kale to join in. They might try again today if they knew she was awake. She refused to open her eyes. Birds twittered in the branches of the rootup trees. She covered her head with the blanket.

Metta and Gymn awoke within the folds of their pocket-dens. They squirmed toward the opening, disturbing Kale as they wiggled between her and the bedroll. They reached her clenched fists and butted their scaly heads against her fingers.

I don’t want to get up,
she told them sternly but loosened her grip so they could slither out. One of them stepped on her nose. Gymn. His tail slapped her cheek as he took off to find a better place to watch the mock battle.

A weight landed on Kale’s side. Too big to be a minor dragon. Toopka.

“Dar’s going to teach me to use a small sword right after Bardon beats him.”

Kale threw back the covers. “What?”

“Bardon always beats him. He’s had years more training.”

“Not that. What did you say about fencing with a small sword?”

“I’m not big enough to fence. Dar’s going to teach me how to duck and jab.”

Kale propped herself up on an elbow and glared at the two warriors as they parried and thrust with practice swords, weapons made of wood but capable of leaving nasty bruises. “You’re too young to be doing any such thing.”

Toopka’s eyebrows scrunched together in a serious frown. “We’re going on a quest,” she said. “It’s best to be prepared.”

“You aren’t going on the dangerous part. You’ll stay here in the camp.”

“Robbers could come.”

“Not in Ordray,” said Kale. “The urohms and kimens run a tidy province. There is next to no crime.”

“
Next to
no crime. That means there
is
some, and crime is likely to happen where innocent people are unprepared.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.” Kale threw herself back down and jerked the blanket over her head.

“Bardon says you should be honing your skills as a fighter.” Toopka waited for a response.

Kale pressed her lips together.

“Bardon asked you to spar with him. You really should. He might have to report to Grand Ebeck.”

Kale pushed back the covers again and sat up, knocking Toopka off her perch. “What made you say that? Did you hear something?”

Toopka gave an exaggerated shrug and purposefully studied the two young men.

“Toopka.” Kale poked her furry arm.

She sighed. “Wizard Fenworth says you’re mopey. Mopey o’rants don’t make a good princess.”

“Apprentice.”

“Librettowit says you are suffering emotional strain.”

“And?”

“Leetu Bends says you need a kick in the pants.”

Kale rubbed the sleep from her eyes and studied Bardon and Dar as they circled each other. Dar swept in, attacking the taller man’s legs. Bardon leapt in the air and landed out of the doneel’s reach.

Kale scowled.
Where have I seen someone move like that? He wasn’t an o’rant. Not a marione either. At Lee Ark’s! Two emerlindians did a demonstration match.

Kale stood and moved closer. She curled her toes against the chill of the dew-drenched grass. The moonbeam cape kept her body warm, but still she wrapped her arms around her torso.

Lee Ark and Leetu also approached the impromptu training field from their tents. Even before they reached Kale’s side, Leetu cheered when Bardon lightly jumped over Dar’s low swung sword.

“Dar, vary your approach,” ordered Lee Ark. “You’re too predictable.”

Fenworth strode over the rise and advanced upon the two practicing with swords. “Let’s see what Bardon does with a pole.”

Kale had been among Paladin’s soldiers long enough to know that the emerlindians, not o’rants, were masters of the pole and longbow.

Startled, both Dar and Bardon turned to the old wizard. Fenworth held a six-foot prime-pole in each hand. He extended one arm to offer a weapon to Bardon.

Dar looked up with a grin on his face. “Do it, Lehman. I bet you’re good at it.”

Bardon’s usual stoic mien relaxed. He clapped Dar on the shoulder, handed the doneel his sword, and took the weighty pole from the wizard.

“What are they doing?” asked Toopka, clinging to the leg of Kale’s trousers.

Kale put her hand on the soft fur between the little girl’s ears. “They are going to battle with prime-poles. If they had two shorter sticks, that would be lackey-canes. And shorter lackey-canes that have a strap attached to one end are called dodgerods or dodders.”

“I want a dodder.”

“They’re for fighting. They’re dangerous.”

“I want to be dangerous.”

Kale looked at the big brown eyes staring up at her. She clamped down a grin that would betray her amusement, but she couldn’t help teasing.

“Should a bisonbeck warrior ever catch sight of you with a weapon in your hand, he’d turn tail and run for the hills, howling all the way.”

Toopka’s expressive eyes widened for a fraction of a second and then narrowed. “Harrumph.” She turned back to watch Bardon and Fenworth readying.

The tyke sounded so much like old Wizard Fenworth that those standing close enough to hear burst into laughter. Toopka put her hands on her hips and stomped a foot.

Lee Ark, who had many children at home, swooped the tiny doneel up into the air and settled her on his shoulder.

“Watch, little one,” he said. “The men are wrapping soft leather around the knuckles of each hand. That’s to protect against blows.”

“Will Bardon beat the wizard? Bardon always beats Dar.”

Lee Ark tilted his head to look up at her. “He’s never beaten me.”

“You fight with swords and those hadwig thingies.”

“Still, he’s never beaten me.”

“But you are only old. Wizard Fenworth is oldest.” The marione general chuckled and patted the doneel’s knee with his large, broad hand.

Kale gave Toopka a hard look. Sometimes she suspected the child said things more out of orneriness than innocence.

Toopka, how old are you?

Toopka’s head jerked around to find Kale.
“I told you I don’t know.”

Did you mean to be disrespectful to General Lee Ark? You should know better than to tell a person he’s old. It’s not polite.

Toopka’s lower lip jutted out in an angry pout.
“I don’t think it’s fair for you to expect me to know things that we didn’t learn on the streets. No one ever talked about being polite. We talked about which shopkeeper had too much fruit in his stand, and when the brown spots were coming on, so we’d know where to forage.”

“Watch now, Toopka,” Lee Ark said, unknowingly interrupting. “They’ll touch their poles once at the top and then once at the base, then the match will begin.”

Wizard Fenworth and Bardon stood straight, gave a ceremonious salute, nodded solemnly, and shifted their feet into the fighting stance. Each man tilted the top of his pole forward. A sharp snap echoed across the meadow as the wood made contact. The men then angled the bottoms of the poles forward. The second snap sounded stronger than the first.

With no more preliminaries, the men attacked with full vigor. The poles clacked and snapped with an occasional thud from a glancing hit.

She winced a couple of times when it looked as though Fenworth was about to land a strike, but Bardon whirled gracefully out of the way and returned a clout against the old man’s pole.

The fighting intensified. Bardon began to sweat. Water dripped from Fenworth’s brow, and his robe soon bore dark streaks where perspiration soaked the cloth. The more he sweat, the more limber his body became.

Fenworth missed Bardon twice in quick succession and grinned. “You waltz, young man. You should visit the courts of the land, not the battlefields.”

Bardon rained a rapid rat-a-tat-tat on Fenworth’s well-coordinated defense. “I must admit, Wizard, I expected your moves to be stiff.”

“I’ve always been known for my fluid touch.”

Kale shook her head and laid a hand on Lee Ark’s arm. “Something is wrong. I’ve never seen Wizard Fenworth actually fight. Even when surrounded by blimmets.”

The general grunted an assent. “I’m amazed by both of them. I’ve never watched Bardon against such a skilled opponent. Fenworth’s right. He has the grace of a dancer. He moves more like an emerlindian than an o’rant.”

She nodded, watching Bardon’s moves through an intricate attack. “The other students made fun of him because his style of fighting didn’t match the instructors’ criteria. But he’s good. I think they bad-mouthed him because none could beat him.”

With her eyes on the bog wizard in front of her, she jumped when his booming voice resounded at her shoulder.

“This is ridiculous!” Fenworth’s gnarled hands pushed Kale and Lee Ark aside. The old man glared at the combatants. “Who told you you could borrow my form?”

The wizard sparring with Bardon turned toward the interruption. Bardon’s pole had been positioned for an onward thrust. He could not stay his hand when his opponent suddenly abandoned the match. The young lehman pulled aside, but not enough. The pole struck the old wizard’s shoulder. To Kale’s horror, it sank into the coarse cloth and on through flesh and bone.

She blinked. As Bardon withdrew his weapon, the wizard’s body appeared to ripple outward from the point of impact, much as water does when a stone is thrown into a pond. The ripples reversed to converge on the center. The wizard merely brushed the spot as if he were wiping away dust.

Wizard Fenworth pounded his walking stick upon the ground. Bees swarmed out of the top notch and flew away in a mass.

“I demand you release my form this instant. It’s bad enough having two wizards, but two wizards in the same form is ridiculous. Show yourself, man.”

The other wizard casually waved a hand in Fenworth’s direction. Water sprayed over Fenworth and those standing behind him. “I
would
like to change into something more comfortable.”

A mist arose around the stranger until the air was so dense with moisture, he couldn’t be seen.

“Aha!” said Fenworth. “Just as I thought, and I can’t say I’m happy to see you.”

         
20
         

A M
IXED
B
AG OF
C
OMRADES

“Now is that any way to greet an old friend?” A short man emerged from the mist. He strode forward, still holding the prime-pole, which towered above him. The cloud of fog settled toward the ground and trailed away along the drying grass until it dissipated altogether.

Wizard robes in shades of blue covered his small frame. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on a meager nose and did nothing to hide the penetrating azure eyes behind them. He wore a floppy hat like Fenworth’s and carried a satchel. Damp wisps of fine white hair hung over his ears and around his shoulders. A thin beard grew from his chin, but no whiskers adorned his cheeks. He had a luxurious mustache that parted directly under his nose, flowed outward around his mouth, and joined the scraggly beard. His eyes quickly took in every member of the assembled party.

Bardon stood with his pole resting against his shoulder and a look of confusion on his face. The wizard thrust a hand toward him.

“Name’s Cam Ayronn, lake wizard and cousin to Fenworth here.”

Bardon shook the man’s hand and then wiped his fingers on his pant leg. Kale couldn’t resist the urge to look into the lehman’s thoughts. She wrinkled her nose when she realized Bardon’s hand had been damp from the moisture he’d gathered from the wizard’s palm.

“Harrumph!” said Fenworth. “A
distant
cousin, a
very
distant cousin. Ninth cousin, twenty-two times removed, at least.”

Wizard Ayronn cocked an eyebrow at the older wizard and grinned. “Second cousin, not once removed.”

“Bah!” exploded Fenworth, with a wave of his hand. A stream of bats hurled out of his bulky sleeve and squeaked piteously in the stark sunlight as they flew away.

Cam Ayronn chuckled and turned to Lee Ark. “You’re the commander of this expedition, I take it. Paladin sent me to reinforce your mission.”

“I’m the oldest,” said Fenworth. “I am in charge.”

“Oh yes,” returned the newcomer, not in the least discommoded by the old wizard’s abrupt manner. “I understand you’re in charge of the wizardry elements of the operation, but certainly not the military aspect. How distasteful, to command legions of sweaty, belligerent soldiers.”

Kale sent a look of inquiry to Dar.
Legions?

“Diplomacy,”
he answered with a look of polite interest on the face he showed his comrades.

Fenworth’s head bobbed in one short nod of agreement. “Quite right. Much prefer the intellectual. Astute as ever, Cam. You’ll do.” He walked away a few steps, but did an about-face to shake his staff at his cousin. “Mind you, you are under me—younger, waterlogged, from a pesky branch of the family. You’ll remember I’m in charge.”

“Certainly,” said Cam with a sober expression. “I wouldn’t usurp your authority, not when Paladin has sent me to help.”

Fenworth turned again, grumbling. “Where’s breakfast? You’d think with the sun in the sky and birds singing, one would smell a piece of bacon frying.”

Toopka pulled on Cam Ayronn’s blue robe. The wizard looked down, adjusted his spectacles, and smiled at the tiny doneel.

Toopka’s eyes twinkled. “Are you wet because you’re a lake wizard?”

“Yes, dear.”

“When Wizard Fenworth sits still, he grows things. What happens when you sit still?”

“I drip. Leave a puddle. Makes it difficult to have dinner in fine palaces. I’d much rather have breakfast with you beside the campfire.”

Toopka hopped and clapped her hands together. “Dar makes fried mullins. You’ll love mullins, especially if you like mordat.”

“I love mordat, and I know where we can find a mordat grove.”

Toopka squealed and grabbed the small wizard’s hand. “Let’s go!”

“Not quite yet, little one. I must confer with the adults before we indulge our sweet tooths with Dar’s delicious mullins.”

A gravelly voice interrupted their conversation. “Shouldn’t that be sweet teeth?”

The wizard spun around to face Regidor. “My goodness!”

Regidor grinned, his wide mouth opening to show his expansive row of pointed teeth. “My name is Regidor. I’m a—”

“—meech dragon,” said Cam Ayronn.

“I was about to say, ‘apprentice wizard.’”

“Ah, yes.” The wizard pinched his mustache between thumb and knuckle and repeatedly pulled at it. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you. Do you enjoy mullins? I do hope so, because Toopka has promised us fried mullins for breakfast.”

Toopka gasped. “How’d you know my name?”

“I’m a wizard, my dear.”

“Do you know everybody’s name?”

“I only bother to know the names of important people.”

Regidor harrumphed in the manner of Fenworth. He eyed the wizard, who was no taller than himself. Kale frowned at her friend, who peered intently at the visitor.

Regidor cleared his throat. “Are you friend or foe, sir?” he asked.

Cam Ayronn threw back his head and barked a laugh. “That’s like saying, ‘Are you truthsayer or deceiver?’ If I am evil, I will lie about it. If I am benevolent, I would say the same as a malefactor.”

“Perhaps, but I am testing out my talents. I believe when you say what you are, I shall know if you tell the truth. I’m glad you’ve come along, because I am having difficulty testing my theory on those I already know.”

“Then I shall say I am friend.”

Regidor gave a small nod, and his mouth spread in his toothy grin. “I think you have told the truth.”

Librettowit sidled up next to the meech dragon. “What is this, my boy? What talent?”

Regidor’s attention shifted to his mentor. “I’ve discovered if I squint a certain way, I can perceive a haze around living organisms. The haze shimmers with different hues and varying distinctions of clarity. I believe this rainbowlike apparition reflects the purity of the being’s soul.”

“Incredible.” The librarian’s face lit with enthusiasm. “That talent is, of course, mentioned in ancient writings, but we’ve always assumed the ability was myth rather than fact.” He hooked his arm in the dragon’s, and they walked off, heads bent together. “What are you doing to measure different degrees of attributes? For that matter, how many attributes do you think you can distinguish?”

Kale shook her head.
Just a short time ago, I woke up to hear Metta singing nursery rhymes to a young meech dragon. Now he’s developing skills that amaze even Librettowit.

Regidor and Dar set to work fixing breakfast. Bacon fried in one skillet, mallow brewed in a tin pot, and Dar dropped mullin dough into a kettle of hot lard. Kale’s stomach grumbled loudly in response to the delightful aromas.

“Look,” called Toopka. “They’re coming this way.”

She ran to Kale with her arm stretched out and a tiny finger pointing to the eastern horizon. Kale shielded her eyes against the morning sun and saw black specks like flying geese. She first protected her mind from any evil influence and then concentrated to determine what might be approaching.

Her face broke into a grin. “Brunstetter.”

“Kimens and urohms,” Leetu Bends announced at the same time.

Five beautiful greater dragons, loaded with supplies and warriors, landed in the field. Even after a year of seeing dragons almost daily, Kale marveled over the beauty of these graceful creatures.

Brunstetter threw his leg over the arching neck of his milky white steed, Foremoore, and slid to the ground. In a cascade of bright colors, five kimens alighted from the same dragon.

Brunstetter looked the part of a noble. He wore a crest upon his leather vest, and a circlet of gold held his blond hair back from his patrician face. He bowed formally to the elders of the quest. Shimeran, a leader among the kimens, stood at his ankle, looking equally dignified.

Decorum could not contain the other four kimens. Seezle, Zayvion, Veazey, and D’Shay tripped lightly over the grass and surrounded Kale and Dar. Kale grinned at the kimens she had not seen for many months.

“Who is this?” asked Seezle, patting Toopka on the arm.

Zayvion shook Dar’s hand vigorously while Veazey danced around Kale. “Do you have any more hatched dragons? Do you have eight now?”

Kale introduced Toopka and explained how she and Dar were the little doneel’s guardians and that another egg was incubating. The rapid-fire questions and the kimens’ eager responses made Kale forget for a while that she had been feeling uncomfortable in this bizarre setting.

Brunstetter went off with Lee Ark for a conference, but the rest of the assembly gathered around the cooking fire where Dar and Regidor busied themselves making more of everything. The smells of bacon and fresh frying mullins filled the air. Kimen laughter rivaled the birds’ songs in merry notes of pleasure. The sun warmed them as the breeze played among the visitors, fluttering Dar’s fancy coattails and lifting the kimens’ wild hair.

Kale poured another cup of mallow, stirred to cool it, and carried it to where Toopka sat next to Wizard Cam.

Out of the pleasant peace of the morning came an urgent voice.

“Kale.”

Mother?

“You must come to me.”

We have visitors, and I can’t just walk away. Not without anyone knowing.

“Come.”

Kale handed the cup to Toopka and noticed Wizard Cam’s piercing blue eyes examining her. She smiled awkwardly and turned her attention to the little doneel, hoping to hide her confusion.

“Toopka, be careful. It’s still hot.”

“Come, Kale.”

Can’t it wait? Just a few minutes.

“In the forest, by the mushroom glade, in ten minutes.”

Kale sank down abruptly on one of the logs they used for seating. She smoothed her sweating palms across the knees of her pants, then clenched her trembling fingers in a tight curl. If she left right at this moment, she could get to her mother by walking quickly. Another minute or two and she would have to run.

“Come.”

Kale looked around at her friends and the soldiers. They sat in groups, talking, laughing, enjoying the breakfast. Brunstetter and Lee Ark sat somewhat apart, but they too were conversing in an easy manner. No one seemed interested in what she was doing.

She stood. A wave of dizziness swept over her. She didn’t move for a moment as the feeling subsided.

She looked around once more. No one seemed to notice. Except the lake wizard. She turned her face away from him and strode over to Celisse. She patted the dragon’s neck. A shiver coursed down Kale’s spine, almost causing her knees to buckle.

“Come.”

Celisse jerked under her touch, and her huge head swerved around to look Kale in the eye.

Kale ducked her head. “Nothing’s wrong,” she answered the unspoken question.

Metta and Gymn flew to her, but instead of landing on her shoulders, they circled her head. Their frantic, jumbled thoughts bombarded her. She waved her hands at them as if to brush them away.

Kale saw Wizard Cam rise to his feet and take a few steps in her direction. She scurried to the other side of Celisse, using the dark dragon’s prone figure as a shield.

“Come.”

I’m trying.

Brunstetter’s deep voice resonated across the camp. “I have news from Paladin. News of more peril in the land.”

Kale shook violently. She turned to look at the distant forest.

The urohm noble’s message kept her from moving. “We have our mission at last. We will—”

“Come now. Come, before all is lost.”

Kale stepped toward the open field. A hand fell on her shoulder and turned her back. Wizard Cam stood before her, his eyes boring into hers. Directly behind him, Fenworth stood rigid and unsmiling. A guttural noise rumbled from matronly Celisse. The minor dragons swooped and called in agitation around her head.

“Come!”
the voice shrieked through her mind, making her cringe. The pressure of the old wizard’s hand tightened on her shoulder.

He’s going to stop me. He’s going to do something to stop me. I stand under the authority of Wulder. I call upon His protection!