DragonQuest (27 page)

         
48
         

C
ONFRONTATION

When the companions reached the market field, they discovered two tents had been set up. One sold potions. The other, an elaborate green-and purple-striped canopy over yellow sides, was marked
Fortuneteller.

“She’s in the fortuneteller tent,” said Regidor.

“I suggest,” said Dar, “that Regidor and Kale go in to have their fortunes told.”

Lyll raised an eyebrow at the two. “I take it you do not believe in such nonsense.”

Both Regidor and Kale shook their heads.

“Good!”

Dar looked up at his two warriors. “I’m sending you because you have the best chance of influencing Gilda. Regidor, obviously, because he’s a meech. Kale, because she’s the Dragon Keeper. Take the minor dragons with you.”

Lady Allerion placed a hand on Kale’s shoulder. “Gilda’s clever, and she’ll likely uncover your true identity quickly. Deal in truth, and she cannot hurt you. Any deceit will give her the advantage.”

While the wizards, Bardon, and Dar went to the potions tent, Regidor and Kale approached the fortuneteller.

Regidor stopped at the opening, held the flap up, and gallantly gestured for her to proceed. “After you,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Thanks,” said Kale and stepped into the gloomy interior. With relief, she felt Regidor follow. His tall presence behind her gave her courage.

The veiled figure sitting at the back of the tent did not move. In front of her, one lantern sat in the middle of a black table. The flicker of the flame reflected in the highly polished top, making the table look as though fire danced beneath its surface.

“So you are the mighty Dragon Keeper.” The meech dragon’s sultry voice floated across the room. “I am disappointed.”

Kale took two steps forward. In spite of the fact she knew Regidor had not followed her farther into the tent, she spoke boldly. “Paladin sent us to find you. He doesn’t want you to live in bondage to Risto.”

“Oh, I see. He wants me to be in bondage to him. How nice.”

“If you choose to break away from Risto, Paladin offers you freedom. He does not offer another form of slavery.”

“Strange, but your words seem attractive.” She remained motionless for a moment, long enough for Kale to wonder whether or not she should say something to fill the silence.

But Gilda spoke again. “Perhaps this inexplicable attraction is the lure that makes you the Dragon Keeper. However,
I
am not overwhelmed by your influence.”

The shadows in the room pulsated with her words. Although the lantern had not dimmed, the darkness grew. Kale held her breath as the dragon continued.

“I perceive that you speak out of an honest belief. Perhaps
this
is the strength behind your persuasive words.” Again the female meech retreated into silence.

Abruptly she spoke once more. “What a pity your belief is ill-founded. You are a slave to Paladin whether you are aware of it or not.”

The atmosphere in the room thickened as if a mist had infiltrated the tent. Kale looked down at her arms expecting to see dew clinging to her skin. Goose bumps rose as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

She tried to keep her voice calm. “It’s a little dreary in here, isn’t it?”

She wished Regidor would step up and take over. Since he seemed determined to stay in the background, she’d call upon the minor dragons for moral support. She pulled her cape over her shoulders from where it hung down her back. “I brought some other dragons for you to meet.”

Gymn and Metta came out and perched on her shoulders. Dibl took his place on her head. Ardeo snuggled in the crook of her arm, letting off a reassuring glow. The whole interior of the tent brightened.

“So,” said Gilda after a moment, “does the Dragon Keeper keep pets or slaves?”

“Neither,” she snapped back. “These dragons are my friends.” She lifted her chin. “And I’m not Paladin’s slave. But I don’t expect you to be able to understand that.”

She heard Regidor prompting in her mind.
“Wulder or Pretender? The Creator or The Destroyer?”

Kale nodded slightly and spoke more gently. “I follow Wulder, who created the world. You follow Pretender, who seeks to destroy Wulder’s creation.”

The female meech stiffened. “I follow only Risto.”

“And Risto follows Pretender.”

“You are wrong. Risto is our leader.”

Regidor stepped forward. “Now that’s a fine tangle.”

He removed his cowl to expose his distinctive meech features. Kale heard the sharp intake of breath by the female.

“What you have,” explained Regidor, “is a usurper whose servant is planning to usurp him. Pretender tries to seize Wulder’s authority, and Risto tries to move into Pretender’s position. That’s going to be a nasty bit of business.” He tilted his head in a gesture Kale knew well, and he spoke even more deeply. “And where are you in all this, Gilda? You are a pawn.”

He moved around the table, closer to the other meech. “But Kale was making a point before we got sidetracked.” He knelt beside her. “You can choose, Gilda, whom you will serve. Creator or Destroyer.” Regidor looked down at the hands she kept so still in her lap. “Put your hand on the table, and I will show you the difference.”

Kale expected her to refuse, but after a moment’s hesitation, Gilda put her gloved hand on the shiny black surface.

“Will you remove the glove?”

Again, the hesitation. Again, the compliance.

As they focused on the meech’s hand with its scaly skin and fingernails that came close to being claws, an image formed in the palm. A small plant unfolded. A stem stretched upward, topped by a bud. The bud opened with pale pink petals uncurling around a golden center. A shadow fell over the beautiful blossom, and the plant shriveled to black stubble. The image vanished.

“Creator or Destroyer?” Regidor whispered. “You can choose, Gilda.”

Gilda clenched her fingers into a fist. “You are a fool, meech dragon.” She snatched her hand back from the table and held it against her chest. “You have to clear the field before you can till the soil. You have to break up the ground before you can plant the seed. Destruction is a part of the process.”

Regidor stood with a sigh. “You do not plow down a field of corn to plant weeds, Gilda. Open your eyes and see.”

Gilda stood. The top of her hat came to Regidor’s chin. With her shoulders squared, she looked poised to attack. Kale felt energy building within the female meech’s body. Kale tensed, ready to spring into action should the woman strike Regidor.

Regidor spoke with urgency. “Why do you wear the veil, Gilda?” He paused for an answer, but the female did not give him one. “Risto told you these people would shudder at the sight of your face, didn’t he? He destroyed your self-confidence with a few words. He chained you to his side with lies.”

“You wear a cowl.” Gilda’s words resounded in the tent like hammer blows.

“I have friends from each of the high races. My appearance does not frighten them.”

Kale felt Dibl stomp his little feet on her head, and she giggled. “I can tell you Regidor was kind of cute as a child, and now I think he’s rather handsome—for a bald man.”

Regidor relaxed, threw her a grin, and waggled the hairless ridge that passed for eyebrows. “I didn’t know you befriended me for my stunning appearance.”

“It’s the charm of your smile,” she answered.

“Go!” The word exploded from Gilda. “I do not welcome your presence. I do not believe this act of camaraderie, meech dragon.”

“My name is Regidor, and I am at your service.” With a swift movement, Regidor lifted Gilda’s clenched fist to his lips and kissed it. “Open your eyes, fair lady. Do not be afraid of what you will see.”

She pulled her hand away from him and turned her back to the intruders. Regidor looked for a moment as if he would lay his hand upon her shoulder. Instead, he shrugged and marched out of the tent. Kale followed.

The three wizards, Bardon, and Dar joined them as they strode away from the tents and toward the village.

“What did we learn?” asked Dar.

“They are very second-rate potion makers,” said Fenworth.

“But none of their products is truly poisonous,” added Cam.

“They
are
overpriced,” said Bardon.

Lyll smiled. “The poor mother is justified in her complaints against her husband and son’s foolishness.”

Dar nodded. “These tidbits are interesting, but our main focus during Kale and Regidor’s visit with the fortuneteller was to keep them safe.”

Regidor looked back at the two men now standing beside the ornate wagon. “You kept them from attacking?”

“No, we spoke to Wulder, requesting His protection be invoked on your behalf.” Dar turned to his o’rant comrade. “Kale, what did you learn from the meech?”

“I learned nothing except I’m no good at diplomacy.”

Dar touched her arm. “Often the results of our confrontations do not materialize immediately. You more than adequately engaged her interest while our meech friend did his best on our behalf. Regidor?”

“Risto has gathered an army of bisonbecks and grawligs to the west of Bartal Springs Lake. Over five hundred dragons have joined his forces. He intends to swoop south three days hence. His goal is to annihilate anyone who gets in his way.”

Kale stopped in her tracks, seized Regidor’s arm, and forced him to face her. “Where and when did you get all that information?”

Regidor smiled. “Directly out of Gilda’s sweet little mind while you were first speaking to her. She could barely contain her glee, knowing soon your annoying little person and your senseless prattling would be eliminated forever. She’s got a heart of lead, that one does.”

“Humph! I couldn’t get past the block she had on her mind,” Kale admitted. “You followed up with a mighty pleasant speech for one who knew what she was thinking.”

Regidor shrugged. “Well, Paladin expected us to try to persuade her away from Risto.”

Fenworth spoke up. “And what would you say was your level of success in that endeavor, my boy?”

“Next to nil.”

They began walking toward the tavern once more. The minor dragons flew about Kale’s head, trying to draw her attention. She ignored them.

This means a battle.

“So after we have a delicious meal,” said Fenworth, smacking his lips, “and a round of relaxing entertainment—music, I think—”

What kind of forces do we have to meet such an army?

“—and perhaps a few good tales and a good night’s sleep—”

Fenworth said the mariones would turn out as an army to defend their land.

“—what do you fine comrades suggest we do with this startling information?”

Cam patted his damp beard. “Oh, I think we should go stop Risto’s army, don’t you?”

Stop them? Just us? What about the marione army? What about Paladin? Where are Brunstetter and Lee Ark?

“Quite,” agreed Fenworth. “There’s nothing like a mission to save the world to liven up a vacation.”

“We aren’t on vacation, Fen,” said Cam.

Vacation! Ha! And this isn’t exactly a quest, either. For a quest, you go find something and, hopefully, bring it back.

“No, that was last week, wasn’t it? Or perhaps the week before?”

“Last century, maybe.”

“Was that before or after that uncomfortably cold spell, Cam? I do have to say my memory is getting worse.”

“Could it be that you are getting old, Fen?”

Senile! Both of you!

“Never!”

         
49
         

P
LANS TO
P
ROCEED

“The problem,” said Lady Allerion to the group crowded into the River Away meeting house, “is that once we’ve made a gateway, there’s no way to seal it up. And the size of the gateway we’re proposing…well, hiding it is going to be a problem.”

“And what about those peddlers?” interjected Master Meiger. “We don’t want them here, causing more problems. We need to concentrate on our defense. With the peddlers and that fortuneteller in our midst, we’d have to keep an eye on them.”

Regidor nodded. “We should take Gilda and her cohorts with us to the battlefield.”

Kale sat at the head table, quietly observing her former neighbors. The assembly consisted of mostly men and older boys, but a few women had turned out to hear Master Meiger define the threat and recommend following the leadership of Ambassador Dar.

With their propensity for long discussions, Kale feared the mariones would talk for days and not get to the point before the invading forces were at the door. But the people had surprised her. Once convinced of the danger, they took action. The boys grabbed the charge to ride throughout the country, raising the alarm and delivering a message concerning where the volunteer army was to assemble. Baking and packing occupied the women not at the meeting. Older men, who would not be going to the front, promised to care for the women and children, property and animals, of those who must defend the land.

A farmer stood in the back of the room and waved his hat to get Lady Allerion’s attention.

“Yes sir?” Lyll nodded in recognition of his right to speak.

“I have a little bog land that runs along the river. Worthless bit of property, but no one goes there. Could that be used for this giant gateway you speak of?”

“Tut-tut. Bog land worthless, did he say? Not a very intelligent fellow, I’m sure.”

“Hush, Fenworth,” said Lyll. “Not all people understand your affinity for bog.”

Another farmer spoke up. “I’ll vouch for the site being inaccessible, but how we gonna get men, equipment, and these dragons of yours through the bog to get to the gateway if we deliberately put it someplace nobody can go?”

“We have a bog wizard with us, sir,” said Dar. “Are there any other suggestions for the location of the gateway?”

No one offered a word.

“Fine,” said Dar. “That’s settled. Let’s turn to another problem. We need four volunteers to go with Lehman Bardon, Regidor, and Leecent Kale to capture the peddlers.”

Four young men stepped forward, Bolley, Gronmere, Mack, and Weedom.

Dar nodded his approval. “Right. Report to Lehman Bardon when this meeting adjourns. Now, the boys who’ve taken the charge to spread the alarm and orders of procedure, meet with Wizard Cam for instructions. The gateway will be functional in three hours. Those of you who will be fighting, gather at the bog. Any questions?”

Dar waited a moment, surveying the room full of mariones, looking many of them in the eye. “This meeting is dismissed.”

The marione farmers and merchants rose from their seats and solemnly shuffled out of the building. Soon they would travel to a battle, the likes of which none of them could imagine. Master Meiger had presented the call to arms. Dar and Librettowit had done a good job of preparing the men in short and vivid speeches. But the concept of battling bisonbecks and grawligs seemed a nightmare, a nightmare they didn’t want to see materialize in their own fields.

Kale pushed past the boys gathering around Cam and hurried outside. A large armagot tree spread its bare branches over one end of the road leading to the north of River Away. Kale strode over to lean against the wide trunk.

The minor dragons climbed out of their pocket-dens. Gymn sat on her shoulder and cuddled his head underneath her chin.

“You’re right,” she said, stroking the side of his belly with one finger. “I feel sick. But I don’t think it’s anything you can cure.”

Dibl and Ardeo foraged for bugs among the purple fall leaf blanket beneath the tree. But Metta abandoned the hunt and flew to Kale’s other shoulder.

“We’re talking about going into battle, and I’m scared.” She glanced around at the mariones dispersing to do what had to be done and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Do you think they know, Metta, how awful it’s going to be? I’ve only been in skirmishes. I can’t imagine a full battle. I don’t want to.”

“Do you remember how I got my medal, Kale?”

She jumped at the sound of Dar’s voice at her elbow.

“Your medal? For fighting the Creemoor spiders at The Hall?”

“Yes.”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember I said I got the medal when I was just trying to stay alive?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s what it’s like in the big battles. You’ve fought before. You don’t think about your fear. You just try to stay alive. And if you see a chance to help a comrade, you take it.”

She nodded again, but her throat had closed around that lump again, and she couldn’t speak.

Dibl came to roost on her head, his little claws digging into her hair. Dar patted her arm. “Don’t worry. Wulder has given you what you need for this encounter, and He’s given you a place to go if you don’t live through it.”

Dibl pulled slightly on the hair wrapped around his toes. Kale rolled her eyes at Dar and allowed a small smile to lift the corners of her mouth. “Thanks for the comforting words, Dar.”

“Anytime.” He winked at her.

“Come on, Kale,” Bardon called. He and Regidor and the four marione men stood across the road, ready to march to the market field.

She shoved away from the tree.
I’ll get right in the middle of that knot of warriors and let them protect me.

“That’s a plan, Kale!” Dar beamed at her. “Your intelligence is a better weapon than your brawn.”

She compared her skinny arms to the muscles rippling over the mariones’ backs and arms. “What brawn?”

“Exactly!” said Dar as he waved her off and headed back to the meeting house.

She took a few steps toward Bardon, stopped abruptly, and turned back. Dar strolled toward the meeting house.

Did you just read my mind?

He didn’t even turn.
“Kale, you have more important things to occupy your mind.”

Did you?

“Of course not. Bardon is waiting.”

“Won’t they know we’re coming?” asked Bolley. “That female meech can tell what you’re thinking, right?”

Kale gladly answered. “Regidor can block her ability to know what our plans are.”

Bardon led his men to the potion tent. Without waiting to watch that confrontation, Kale and Regidor entered the fortuneteller’s tent with the minor dragons flying in attendance.

Gilda remained seated and did not move.

Regidor stood by the door. The dragons swooped around the room, inspecting all the darkest corners. Gilda ignored them all.

A surge of impatience rose in Kale. The woman swathed herself in thick clothing, moved only when forced to, spread discontent among people who had done her no harm, and acted as if she were a queen.

But Paladin said the meech dragon must be treated with mercy. She was born into this situation and needs to be rescued. Regidor made an attempt on our last visit. I suppose before we disable her powers, tie her up, and haul her off with us, I ought to give kindness a try as well.

Kale walked around the black table and stood beside Gilda’s still form. “I would like to see your face.”

Gilda didn’t move.

“Really,” said Kale. “I think if I could look in your eyes, I might be able to at least begin to understand you.”

Still Gilda did not respond. Kale put her hand on the female meech’s shoulder, and the clothing collapsed.

Dibl did somersaults in the air, and Metta squealed her surprise.

“Very clever,” said Regidor.

“Where is she?” asked Kale.

Regidor tilted his head and surveyed the room. After turning slowly in a complete circle, he answered, “She’s in this room but not in her own form. Let’s look around and see how she may be hiding.”

“She’s changed herself into something?”

“I don’t know if she has the skill to do it herself, or if this is Risto’s doing. Pick up that pile of clothing and shake it out. See if anything falls to the floor.”

Kale did as Regidor suggested. The hat fell out of the layer of veil. She peeled a blouse from inside the dark purple jacket. Petticoats slipped out of the purple skirt. The half boots contained empty stockings. She sighed with disappointment.

Dibl abandoned his jovial air dance and set to work. He crawled along the floor, nibbling on bugs as he looked for clues. Metta sat on the back of Gilda’s chair. Kale picked her up. The little dragon shivered with dismay over the disappearance of the meech. “We’ll find her, Metta. It doesn’t look like anyone hurt her.”

Kale continued to stroke Metta as she walked around the room. “What are we looking for?” she asked Regidor.

He spoke over his shoulder as he examined a pillow. “Well, I’m looking for that shimmer of light I sometimes see around people. Hers was a particularly disheveled pattern.”

“I’ve never seen any lights.”

“Then I suppose you should look for something that’s out of place, or something that’s here now that wasn’t before.”

“Wouldn’t it be most logical for her to change herself into a living thing, like a cat or dog, a bird or mouse?”

“That would be the easiest transformation, but Risto is above doing something simple.”

“Still, I’d be happier if Dibl would quit eating those bugs. Dibl, stop it. You might eat Gilda.”

Dibl rolled on the floor and bumped into a table leg. He lay there with his sides jiggling as he laughed.

“It’s not funny!” She pursed her lips and tried not to smile at his antics.

“I hardly think she’s a bug, Kale.” Regidor prowled the room, looking in various boxes, trunks, and under cushions.

“No, I guess you’re right. She doesn’t have the personality to allow herself to be an insect.”

Ardeo and Gymn investigated the corners of the room. Ardeo’s light brightened each dark cranny. Gymn trilled in excitement.

She hurried to where the minor dragons danced around some object. “They found something.”

A coin lay on the canvas flooring of the tent next to the cushions that must have been Gilda’s daybed. Regidor picked up the large disk and examined it as Gymn and Ardeo hovered around his shoulders.

“No, I don’t think so,” said Regidor. He flipped it in the air and tossed it on the table.

“What about this?” Kale pointed to a small, standing mirror on an upright trunk. “This seems out of place. Why would Gilda want a mirror?”

Regidor started to cross the room.

“Never mind,” said Kale. “Metta says it was here before.”

She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the interior of the tent.

“This is hopeless, Regidor. What makes you think she’s still here?”

“I know she is. I can feel a sort of vibration in the air, one that I noticed when we were in the tent before. I thought it came from her.” He shook his head and grimaced. “Maybe I was wrong.”

She almost chuckled.
I doubt that! He just needs to focus.
“Stop and be still, Regidor. See if you can tell whether that feeling is stronger in one part of the tent.”

Regidor stood motionless for a moment with his eyes closed. Kale watched him breathe in and out. It occurred to her that Regidor, in this almost motionless state, reminded her of Gilda’s restrained presence.

Regidor moved to the shiny black table. The lantern burned with a flickering yellow flame. A handkerchief of white linen lay on the table where Gilda had been sitting.

Regidor picked up an earthenware jug with a cork stopper. He gently tilted it from side to side. Water sloshed within.

“A plain jug of water,” he said, his teeth gleaming white in the combined light of the lantern and Ardeo’s glow. “Or the essence of one meech dragon.”

Kale smiled. “You found her.”

“Yes, and unless we spill her, she should be easy to keep track of.”

Dibl gave a tiny hoot. Gymn landed on Kale’s shoulder and flapped his wings.