DragonQuest (16 page)

         
27
         

S
TRANDED
T
RAVELERS

“An illusion?” Librettowit considered the matter of the disappearing bisonbeck and maiden. Bardon, Toopka, and Kale had joined Librettowit, Dar, and Regidor inside the carriage as soon as the skirmish with the bandits ended. Dar had ordered Bruit to turn off the main road to take a shortcut avoiding the small city of Tourk. The coach rocked and bounced over rough roads, making slower time than they had earlier.

With each sway of the carriage, the crowded passengers leaned into each other. In his nervous state, Regidor’s tail took up more room than usual. The meech dragon had to keep a firm hold on the tail to keep it from twitching in his comrades’ faces.

Librettowit interlaced his fingers and rested his hands on his stomach. “The trick was designed to lure someone away from the crowd. Was the trick aimed at just anyone, or at Kale, in particular?”

Bardon nodded. “Was this a random group of footpads, or were they paid to waylay our party?”

Regidor’s tail flicked out of his hands and slapped Librettowit alongside the head. The librarian scowled. The meech dragon grabbed his tail and pulled it back into his lap.

Regidor voiced his opinion. “I would have said random had they not lured our Dragon Keeper into the woods.”

Dar studied Kale with a thoughtful eye and his arms crossed over his chest. “I agree with Librettowit. I think it was an illusion.”

Kale frowned at her friend. “But when I hit the man’s legs, they were solid and folded just like you’d expect.”

Bardon joined the discussion. “The people disappeared from the pile of clothes, then the clothes disappeared during the fight. Illusion!”

“Yes,” agreed Dar. “Kale, did you use the words Granny Noon gave you to protect yourself before you entered the fray?”

Her eyes opened wide.
I stand under the authority of Wulder. In Wulder’s service, I search for truth. My thoughts belong to me and Wulder. I haven’t repeated those things since before the last encounter with my mother.

Dar nodded, knowingly. “So you haven’t been protecting your mind.”

Kale glared at him.
Do you read my mind?

“No!”

Dar sighed. Since she was already connected to Dar by the brief interchange of mindspeaking, Kale felt his frustration ease out of him. It flowed out of her as well. This was her good friend. She trusted him.

An emotion transferred from Dar, and Kale almost gasped when she realized it was love. The warm feeling embraced her. It resembled the peace she experienced when she was with Granny Noon.

A new realization struck her.
This is how I feel when I’m aware of Wulder’s presence. Only this isn’t as grand. When I felt Wulder near me, I didn’t see His love. It was too big. This small feeling is more comfortable than Wulder’s majestic, commanding love.
A shiver of contentment raised goose bumps on Kale’s arms.
Wulder loves me.

She could not recall ever being aware of another’s love for her. Lyll Allerion’s professions didn’t count. Something about that relationship continued to rattle her peace of mind.

“Kale,” said Dar, pointing a finger at her, “you’re subject to evil influences because you’re a spiritual being. You must always be on your guard.”

“On guard?”

“The enemy targets one he feels is furthering Paladin’s agenda.”

Toopka bounced on Bardon’s knee. “Maybe Kale should let herself get caught. Then she can mindspeak to us and tell us what’s going on from inside.”

“Inside where?” Kale asked.

Toopka shrugged. “I don’t know. Inside Risto’s castle, or inside the prison where they’re keeping the other meech, or inside the army headquarters.”

“I’ve been inside Risto’s castle.” Kale shook her head. “And I don’t care to go back. I don’t think they’re keeping the dragon in a prison, because he’s supposed to be out influencing other dragons.”

“And,” interrupted Librettowit, “the bisonbeck army’s headquarters is in Risto’s castle.”

Bardon cleared his throat. “Where Kale does not care to go.”

The lehman sat scrunched between her and the carriage wall with Dibl on his shoulder. Kale twisted in her seat to look at Bardon’s face. She didn’t see any amusement in his expression, but a shimmer like an unvoiced chortle passed through her mind. She narrowed her eyes at him, convinced that the ripple of suppressed laughter had come from him.

At that moment, the door to the driver’s seat above their heads opened. Kale looked up and saw the back of the driver’s boots and trouser legs.

“Begging your pardon,” Bruit said with a country drawl, his voice raised over the noise of harness and horse, “but there’s a disabled landau in the road some distance ahead. Do you want me to stop?”

Bardon tossed Toopka into Kale’s lap, grabbed the top edge of the open window at his side, and slithered out of the crowded coach, climbing to the roof.

His voice came down to them, loud and clear.

“Three o’rant females and a male marione driver. The women are dressed like landed gentry.”

“We must stop,” announced Dar. “Kale and Toopka, up on the roof with you. Can’t have the lower servants riding in the coach. Young Dibl, remember you are to stay out of sight.”

Kale pushed Toopka through the window and up to Bardon’s waiting hands, then crawled out, clambering to lie on the luggage.

Bruit pulled back on the reins, saying, “Steady, Romer. We’re gonna stop for a minute or two and see what these folks need.” The horse leaned back against the breeches. The harness jangled.

Kale stared at the fancy carriage, shiny black with yellow wheels. The roof had been lowered to allow the passengers to enjoy the pleasant autumn afternoon. Two young women perched in the seat facing forward. An older lady roosted in the matching seat that faced the rear of the vehicle. The driver sat in the dirt beside a wheel, mending a strip of leather.

The youngest of the ladies lifted a hand in greeting. Kale almost responded before she remembered her place as a servant. Although she couldn’t hear the words spoken, Kale recognized when the oldest woman voiced a strong reprimand. The younger girl bit her lip and lowered her head.

Kale explored their thoughts to determine whether this was another ambush.

The mother’s mind listed household details that were being ignored because of their delay in returning from afternoon social calls.

The oldest girl bubbled with delight that the exceedingly boring day had ended with an encounter with a splendid man, obviously the household sheridan. This sheridan’s amazingly handsome face made her heart flutter.

Kale blinked twice when she realized the young lady was batting her eyelashes at Bardon.

The younger sister, too, found Bardon attractive, so attractive that she could only peek up at him. With each glance, she blushed and demurely looked down to her gloved hands folded in her lap. She hoped their mother would invite the party to their manor so she could watch him all evening long.

Kale studied her companion. Bardon’s frame was long and lean, a little taller than the average o’rant. His muscles bulged under the simple garment of a servant. His face held his usual reserved expression. His clear blue eyes under dark eyebrows were startling, but Kale thought they too often looked aloof, not friendly at all. But to be fair, she admitted Bardon had warmed up lately.

Romer slowed and stopped beside the landau. Dar jumped down from the carriage and held the door for Librettowit to descend.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Librettowit bowed. “Trevithick Librettowit at your service. May we be of assistance?”

The oldest woman spoke. “The breeching came loose in the harness. Our driver will have it right in short order.”

The driver had risen to his feet as Dar and Librettowit approached. He tipped his hat to the men.

Kale transferred her attention to the thoughts of the driver. His mind was on the impossibility of reconnecting the rotted leather in his hands. Kale conveyed that information to Librettowit.

“Ahem!” said the tumanhofer, looking over to the frustrated driver. “May I have our driver assist? Perhaps we have a piece of leather to graft into the harness.”

The older o’rant woman looked to her driver. He nodded, and she looked back at Librettowit.

“Very well.”

Bruit handed the reins to Bardon and climbed down from his perch. Kale felt the coach rock as the man shifted from one position to another, but she also felt Regidor move within the carriage after their driver’s feet were on the ground. She suspected he sat by the partially opened small door that allowed the driver to speak to those inside the carriage.

It took some time for the two drivers to improvise the connection between the crupper and breeching. Dar remained silent. As a butler, he could not enter into the social exchange of his betters. Librettowit maintained the conversation, though somewhat stiff in his manner.

The mother introduced her girls, Miss Adel Gransford, Peony, and herself, Mistress Gransford. Kale watched as the young ladies tossed flirtatious glances at Bardon.

Librettowit explained their journey to Prushing.

“I’m in search of a rare book I heard has been seen in Dottergobeathan’s Antique Emporium. My traveling companion Abbot Gidor remains in the carriage. I beg you to forgive this apparent discourtesy, but he is a religious man from the Northern Reach. He goes about with his head covered and barely speaks.”

Mistress Gransford cast a disapproving look to the closed carriage. “What possible business could the man have in Trese?”

“His monastery produces fine glass dishes and articles of art. The trade of these items supplements the income of their modest community.”

The woman’s eyes lit up, and Kale received an impression of greed. Librettowit had unknowingly touched on a source of Mistress Gransford’s pride. She collected fine dishes.

She twirled her parasol and looked at her older daughter before speaking. “Prushing is another day’s travel. You will be too late coming into Broadfiord to find an inn. Since aiding us has caused your delay, may I offer you the hospitality of my husband’s manor? It is but two miles away, once we turn at the next crossing.”

Kale stared at the back of the doneel’s head, seeing his ears tilt forward at the woman’s suggestion.
Dar, is this good?

“Yes. We might as well start gathering information from the people about any unusual activity among the dragons. Tell Librettowit I’m in favor of accepting her hospitality.”

Kale conveyed Dar’s message to Librettowit, and the librarian graciously accepted the invitation.

“I don’t like this,”
said Regidor, mindspeaking to Kale alone.
“The glow that surrounds the girls and the driver seems to indicate nothing unusual, but the mother’s luminescence is tinged with a dark undertone.”

Tell Dar.

“I did.”

And what did he say?

“Be wary.”

         
28
         

Q
UARTERED WITH THE
E
NEMY

“Bring me some food!”

Kale jumped when Regidor’s voice bellowed in her mind. She glanced around the spacious kitchen to see if any of the manor servants had noticed. The mixture of mariones, o’rants, and tumanhofers worked side by side in a friendly atmosphere. They had made Kale, Bardon, and Toopka welcome around their plain wood table.

Kale addressed her meech friend.
You don’t have any food?

“A crust of bread, a hard hunk of yellow cheese, and a tankard of watered-down cider.”

She felt the meech dragon’s disgust as if it were her own. She knew immediately to whom Regidor attributed his meager meal, therefore, his rant didn’t surprise her.

“Dar told them my order of monks rarely eats meat or vegetables or such luxuries as salt and sugar. Only the plainest of food would meet my stringent dietary restrictions.”

Kale grinned, imagining the pleasure Dar got from his orneriness. She saw Bardon lift an eyebrow in her direction.

“What are you scheming?”

The question came into her mind along with the realization that she had not initiated the conversation.

You’re a mindspeaker, Bardon!

“I am not. I merely respond to what you say.”

But I didn’t say anything. You asked a question.

“You were looking at me and that opened the communication.”

You’re stubborn.

“You’re wrong and don’t want to admit it. That’s stubborn.”

Regidor’s voice bellowed into her thoughts.
“And while you argue pointlessly, I’m starving!”

From within her moonbeam cape, three more voices radiated to her mind. The minor dragons wanted food too.

All right, all right!

She stood and marched out of the kitchen, not bothering to explain her sudden departure. Quick steps through the cool night air brought her to the stable. She entered the barn and nodded to Bruit sitting with the manor’s stablemen around a table lit by a lantern.

Climbing the wooden ladder to the loft, she mentally told Bardon to be quiet as he chastised her for rude behavior. She also told Regidor to be patient. He expounded upon the lack of consideration the others showed him by leaving him alone and hungry in a dreary room in the massive, drafty stone house. At the top of the ladder and out of sight of the men below, she pulled the minor dragons from her cape.

“Stay out of sight,” she whispered. “You can forage all you want up here. I’ll be back to sleep in the loft. If anyone comes up, remember—stay out of sight!”

Kale climbed back down the ladder and nodded at the men who glanced up from their game of cards.

She shivered as she recrossed the open space between the stables and the huge stone manor. A cold wind whipped under her cape.

Regidor responded.
“Brr. It’s cold in here. Be sure what you bring is hot.”

She stomped back into the heated kitchen and went to warm her hands by the hearth.

“See if you can find an extra blanket, too.”

First let me see if I can get a bowl of stew. Then I’ll think about bedding.

She casually surveyed the other people in the room. Only Bardon seemed aware of her presence.

“I’ll cover for you while you take something to Regidor.”

Her eyes popped open. His voice in her mind proved her point. Bardon could and did mindspeak. His talent would have to be addressed.

Does he know the etiquette Leetu Bends drilled into me? Does he know how to protect himself?

Kale looked away from the bothersome lehman and spied a clean bowl on a preparation table. She crossed the room, picked it up, and returned to the fire. No one seemed interested in her actions. Many of the workers had finished their chores for the day. They relaxed around a table, enjoying their supper and swapping bits of household news. Other servants still carried trays of food to the dining hall and brought back empty dishes.

The gleaming platters on large polished trays held delicacies she had never seen before. The aroma filled her nose like a promising potion.

Kale ladled stew, chunky with large cuts of meat and vegetables, into the bowl. She then sat in an out-of-the-way corner and pretended to eat, watching the activity around her. At an opportune time, she slipped out the door to the main part of the hall and followed a shadowy corridor to stairs that led to the bedrooms. With her mind on her meech friend, she followed the instinct that would lead her to his room.

I’m coming, Regidor.

“Good. I’m famished.”

I’ve got a large bowl of stew. It’s delicious.

“Can you find me?”

I think I could find you in a tumanhofer mine with all its twisting, turning tunnels.

“Kale, your talent is truly remarkable.”

She stopped in the dark hallway.
Remarkable?

“Yes, remarkable, but keep moving. I’m hungry.”

Regidor sent her an impression of his rumbling stomach. She grinned and quickened her steps.

Once she had to duck into an alcove to avoid passing a maid coming back from an errand. Twice she passed rooms on tiptoe, knowing someone was working within. A dog rose from guarding another chamber and challenged her with a soft growl.

“It’s all right, fella,” she said as she approached. “I don’t want to go into your master’s room.”

The dog settled down again. It watched her walk by with only its twitching nose indicating it was interested in the bowl of stew.

She hurried to the end of a hall and turned down a gloomy passageway lit by one flickering sconce. A door at the end opened, and she hastened to where Regidor waited.

“I don’t like this place, Kale,” he said as he took the bowl. He crossed to a stool and sat down quickly, already spooning the broth into his mouth. “Mmm. This is good.”

She sat on the edge of a hard cot covered with a thick, scratchy blanket. “What don’t you like about the manor? Is it just because they put you off in seclusion? That’s Dar’s idea of a joke.”

“No.” Regidor slurped a big chunk of potato off his spoon and smacked his lips as he chewed. “Remember I told you about being able to see something about people. I think it has to do with how much at peace they are with their existence.” He was devouring the stew at an impressive rate, talking all the while.

“But you’ve been shut in this room by yourself.”

He shook his head again. “No, I’ve been strolling the hallways.”

“Regidor!”

“Don’t worry. I had my tail curled around and tucked into the belt under the robe. I had the cowl up over my head. My arms were crossed and hidden in the sleeves. I looked just like a monk on a meditative walk.”

She’d seen him practicing his disguise. He strolled with a measured step, his head bowed, and his entire person enveloped in the clerical robes. Granny Noon had provided the costume, and Kale felt positive it held secret qualities.

Regidor had grown at a phenomenal rate. He stood taller than she now, and his tail, which had been such a cumbersome nuisance to him when he was just weeks old, now fit the rest of his body. He looked so much like an o’rant it made her wonder where meech dragons had come from. They were neither one of the high nor the low races.

“What did you see?” she asked.

“Most of the inhabitants of this manor are just what they seem, hard-working servants. But a few vibrate with an expectation of great wealth. Some battle with memories of misdeeds. Others shy away from contemplation of what exactly they must do to gain this fortune.”

His spoon paused over the bowl. “And the glimpse I got of the master of this manor…” The meech dragon shuddered. “He’s evil. The drive to fulfill his desire roils out a hue of turbulent purples and black. The colors clash and spark, setting off streaks of lightninglike disturbance in the air around him.”

Regidor set the spoon down in the near-empty bowl. “It troubles me, Kale. There is strength in this man I can’t explain.”

“One of Risto’s minions?”

Regidor nodded soberly. “One would assume.”

The loft of the stable functioned as guestroom to the visiting servants. Only Dar, as Librettowit’s valet, had a room inside.

With their stomachs full of delicious supper, all the travelers were ready for a good night’s rest. Bardon and Bruit bedded down at one end where a couple of low-ranking stableboys also slept. At the other end of the loft, Toopka and Kale curled up on a coarse blanket with the moonbeam cape spread over them. The minor dragons hid in their pocket-dens.

In the middle of the night, Kale awoke. She listened for some unusual noise that would have roused her from a very pleasant sleep. Soft snoring filtered between the floorboards. A horse stirred and blew. Another horse stomped nervously, bumped the gate of its stall, and snorted.

She sat up.

A window spread a broad band of moonlight across the loft. Ghostly white hay almost divided the room in half, but Kale could see the men sleeping beyond.

Bardon, wake up!

The lehman hunched a shoulder and relaxed again on his pallet.

Bardon, wake up!

He sat up and looked across the space, directly at her.

There’s something down below. Something besides the horses and stable-hands.

Bardon pulled on his boots, drew his sword from the scabbard beside his pallet, and shifted silently to his knees. He crawled toward the edge.

She followed his lead and crept to meet the lehman at the top of the ladder.

At first she saw nothing but shadows.

“There!”

Her eyes followed Bardon’s pointing finger.

A shadow moved.

She held her breath.

A form moved away from the wall and crossed to the large barn door. He stood inside with the door slightly ajar, his attention riveted on something outside.

What is he?
she asked.

“A ropma.”

Kale tried to remember anything she knew about ropmas. Other than they were one of the seven low races and usually occupied themselves herding animals, she knew nothing.

They’re harmless, right?

“He could be.”

What do you think he’s doing here?

“You’re the one who can find out.”

Me?

Kale felt the ripple of exasperation from her comrade.

“Kale, go into his mind and find out why he’s here.”

Oh!

She pressed her lips into a straight line and instantly threw up a guard so Bardon would not hear her fuming. Of course, she should have thought of it first.

No more stupid mistakes. My thoughts belong to me and Wulder. I stand under Wulder’s authority as I search for truth.

She concentrated on the shadowy form by the door. His thoughts were simple. Only one thing mattered at this moment to the ropma. He must follow orders.

He’s waiting for someone, Bardon.

“Who?”

That’s not clear. It’s someone he’s never seen before, and that’s hard for him. He has a very simple thought pattern.