DragonQuest (4 page)

         
5
         

E
XPECTATIONS

Bardon stepped forward. “Excuse me, Your Grace. I don’t see how I can accompany Leecent Kale and also finish preparations for knighthood.”

High Chancellor Grand Ebeck grasped the front edges of his silken robes, resting his hands against his chest. “Time enough for that after you’ve been on your own, away from The Hall for a while.”

Kale watched Bardon out of the corner of her eye. She knew some of what the other students said about him. Bardon had been left at The Hall by his father when he was just six years old, two years younger than most candidates were when they entered training. He was a few years older than Kale, so that meant he’d been here at least a dozen years. The Hall was his home, and everyone said he took his obligation to fulfill his father’s will seriously. In fact, they said that was why Bardon was such an unyielding, tiresome bore.

The muscles in Bardon’s neck tightened. With the same talent that enabled her to mindspeak and find dragon eggs, Kale could feel the other o’rant’s tension. Sympathy for him invaded her heart. The emotion surprised her for only a moment. When she’d been a slave, there had been plenty of times when those in charge dismissed what she wanted to do as if it were nothing. People at The Hall were supposed to be more sensitive. They followed Paladin.

Kale’s eyes sought the face of the wise emerlindian chancellor. Surely he understood that Bardon would take this order to leave Vendela as punishment.

Grand Ebeck showed no awareness of her outrage or Bardon’s dismay. The high chancellor picked up his book. He paged through the volume, stopping to scan an entry and then moving on.

Her eyes went back to Bardon. A red flush stained his pale cheeks. Black eyebrows drew together over those blue eyes that so often looked cold and distant. A muscle in his square jaw worked, and Kale suspected his teeth were clenched like a bodoggin’s grip on his next meal.

High Chancellor Grand Ebeck made his next pronouncement without even looking at either o’rant.

“You aren’t ready to go on, Lehman Bardon.”

Kale heard Bardon’s sharp intake of breath.
Oh no! He hadn’t known he didn’t qualify.

“There is nothing more we can do for you here. You might as well make yourself useful to Wizard Fenworth for the time being.”

She chafed at the high chancellor’s words.
That’s just cruel. Granny Noon would never have been so mean. Maybe men who are grands aren’t as kind as women. I don’t think Grand Ebeck’s so terribly wise after all.

His voice droned on. “Perhaps in a year or two you can reapply for candidacy.”

Oh, that’s nice!
She couldn’t help the sarcasm spicing her thoughts. She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from saying something she shouldn’t. She could feel Metta and Gymn turning around and around restlessly in their pocket-dens. They always picked up on her emotions, and she on theirs. If she didn’t tamp down her anger, they might come out hissing and stomping and ready to fight.

Librettowit came to her side and put his hand on the arm that held Toopka.

“Go pack your belongings. Meet me at the entry to Trell Tower before the next chime of hourly bells.”

With a wrinkled brow, she tried to determine the sense of such a command. “We aren’t going to the dragon field? Celisse is not taking us back to The Bogs?”

Librettowit shook his head. “I came through a gateway. We’ll be home again in Fenworth’s castle this afternoon.”

“But Celisse—”

“—will fly to join you.” He patted her arm. “Don’t worry so, Kale. We will have a pleasant summer. Studying, training, good company, good music, good food. No quests, no adventures, just the camaraderie of intelligent, reasonable, compatible people. Once you have Regidor in hand, life will be comfortable once more.”

Dar cleared his throat. “Sounds idyllic.”

She had known Dar long enough to read the caution in his eyes. She wanted to quiz him, but the high chancellor interrupted.

“Well now,” he said, “we all have things to do. Leecent Dar, I wish to have a word with you. Lehman Bardon, you will also need to pack and meet with Kale and Librettowit. Off with you now.” He gestured with a dark, wrinkled hand toward the door.

The door behind them opened even though the footman could not have heard their dismissal. He jumped to bow them out.

Bardon inclined his head to Grand Ebeck and said, “Good day.”

The high chancellor nodded absent-mindedly and murmured the correct response. Carrying Toopka, Kale followed the lehman out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, she hurried to catch up to Bardon.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He didn’t slow his pace. “For what?”

“That you don’t get to begin your apprenticeship.”

“Wulder’s timing is best.”

“That’s what people say when they don’t understand why things happen.” She wanted to tell him about Paladin’s explanation to her of Wulder’s perfect timing. She believed the saying was true, not just a platitude.

She opened her mouth, eager to relate the images Paladin had put before her, but Bardon’s gruff voice pushed her enthusiasm aside. “That’s what people say to help them accept what has happened. It works, Leecent Kale. Excuse me. I have a lot to do.”

He quickened his pace and left Kale trailing behind.

“He’s mad,” said Toopka.

“He didn’t say he was mad.” Kale turned down the hall leading to the main staircase.

“He’s still mad.”

“Yes, probably. But he doesn’t want us to know.”

“We know anyway.”

“Yes, but let’s pretend we don’t. I think he’s embarrassed as well as disappointed.”

Kale and Toopka reached the bottom of the grand staircase and crossed the wide foyer to the front doors, where a footman bowed them out of the building.

Outside, the sun shone brightly on the azure towers. The translucent globe floated fifty feet in the air, unmoved by the breeze fluttering the banners on each of The Hall’s turrets.

“Can I have new clothes?” asked Toopka. “I’d like new clothes.”

“I don’t think we will have time.”

“A bath? I’d like a bath, inside, with smell-good soap. Maybe pink soap.”

“As soon as we get to Wizard Fenworth’s castle. He has a nice tub. Actually, it’s a huge wooden bucket. But hot water comes out of a reservoir in the treetop. The sun warms the water. I don’t know about pink soap.”

“I was thinking I didn’t want to leave Vendela. I have friends here, you know. But maybe this will be fun. I’ve never been on an adventure.”

“We are not going on an adventure. Adventures are not fun,” said Kale as they crossed the courtyard. “I know. I
have
been on one.”

She walked briskly to the dormitory, aware of the curious glances from fellow students. Once within the doors, she sprinted down the empty hall, up three flights of narrow stairs, and into the room she shared with five other girls. No one was there.

“I guess that’s good.”

“What’s good?” asked Toopka. She craned her neck around, trying to see everything.

“No one’s home, so I don’t have to explain why we’re leaving. Sit here, and don’t touch anything.” She deposited the little doneel on her own cot.

“Is there anything to eat?” Toopka slipped off the bed and headed for a chest of drawers.

“Toopka!” Kale snatched her up and put her back on the cot. “We aren’t allowed to have food in the rooms.”

Toopka squirmed toward the edge again. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t any.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll find you something to eat but not right now. I have to pack and get to the tower.”

Toopka’s face folded into a grumpy frown. Kale ignored her and opened a drawer. She stuffed clothes into the hollows of her cape. When she glanced at the doneel again, she saw Toopka’s eyes had grown large, and her mouth hung open.

“You’re putting all those things in that pocket I went in?”

“Yes.”

Kale dropped to her knees and pulled a shallow box from under the bed. Toopka lay on her stomach and peered over the edge. Kale continued to pack. When she’d emptied the box, she stood up and pushed it back under the bed with the toe of her brown boot.

“Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to take the books?” Toopka nodded toward the clutter on the desk beside the bed.

“No. Wait until you see the castle. It has rooms and rooms full of books.”

A sharp rap on the door sent Kale to answer.

“Dar!”

“I brought some clothes for our little friend.”

He entered the room and placed a folded stack of clothing on the bed beside Toopka. She squealed with delight and rummaged through the pieces, cooing as she shook out a white shirt embroidered with an ivy vine. Metta and Gymn emerged from the cape, flew to her side, and examined her new possessions.

Kale studied the furry face of her friend. “What did Grand Ebeck want to talk to you about?” she asked.

“Oh, he wants me to attend a dinner tonight. A doneel diplomat will be trying to influence a regional governor to increase trade with their district. Dull, political stuff.”

“I don’t think I like Grand Ebeck as much as I did before.”

“He doesn’t particularly care whether you like him or not. He was more interested in softening your attitude toward Bardon.”

“What?”

Dar plopped down on the bed beside Toopka and helped her lace up a boot she’d found.

“Diplomacy. He detected your dislike of Bardon and set about constructing a situation in which you would side with him.”

“That’s sneaky.”

Dar shrugged and concentrated for a moment on getting Toopka’s tiny foot into the other boot. “If he had told you to consider Bardon a comrade, you would have resisted. However, when he revealed Bardon’s weakness and need for a friend, you jumped right in. He counted on your noble instincts.”

“How does he even know I have noble instincts?”

Dar rolled his eyes and commenced working the laces through the boot’s eyelets. “He’s a grand. He knows. He wanted you to discover for yourself that you could feel sympathy for Bardon.”

“A lot of good it did. Bardon didn’t want to talk to me.”

“Maybe not, but now there is a chink in your prejudice against him.”

“Prejudice! I’m not prejudiced!”

“Your opinions of Bardon are formed out of gossip and surface impressions. That’s prejudice.”

Toopka looked up from her new boots. “If it’s prejudice, it has to be called prejudice.”

“Very wise,” said Dar and chucked Toopka under the chin.

Kale glared at both doneels. She inspected the little black boots on the child’s feet. They fit well.

“Where’d you get these clothes?” she asked Dar.

“I’ve been collecting some things to send to my sister’s family. One of the reasons I wanted to go to the market.”

Kale thought about the huge family Dar claimed and felt a sudden loneliness. Dar was like a brother, and she didn’t want to leave him.

The doneel stood and squeezed her arm. “You’ll be all right, Kale. You have lots of family now in the form of good friends. And two new additions as of today, Toopka and Regidor. You’ll be too busy to miss me.”

“Are you sure you don’t read my mind?”

Dar just laughed and moved to the door. “You’d better hurry.” He went into the hallway, then turned, laying a hand on the door frame. “You will do well to follow closely the teachings of Paladin and remember Wulder in all your dealings.”

Not trying to hide the grin on her face, Kale answered in mock approval. “Don’t
you
sound proper all of a sudden.”

“Exactly!” Dar winked and saluted. “And Kale?”

“Yes?”

“Give Bardon a chance.”

         
6
         

A
TTACK!

Kale and Toopka waited at the base of Trell Tower. Toopka played among large round boulders ringing the turret. Embedded in the boulders, millions of quartz chips glistened in the afternoon sun. At night, these sparkles glowed blue.

Toopka skipped from one rock to the next with the same natural agility Kale had seen Dar display. Kale smiled as she watched the little doneel. As a slave, Kale had been strong from her work but not particularly nimble. She’d spent part of her first quest falling on her face.

With a quick look around, she noted the Torsk Tower clock gave the time as five minutes to the hour. The courtyard was empty. She hopped up behind Toopka.

“Better run. I’m going to get you!”

Toopka squealed. Metta and Gymn emerged from Kale’s cape in a flurry of bright wings and joined the chase. They bombarded the little girl, getting close enough to ruffle her hair with their wings. She flinched the first time they swooped over her head, but batted at them playfully on the following charges.

Even with the dragons on her side, Kale had a hard time keeping up with the surefooted doneel. Kale hopped off the boulders and ducked into the tower doorway. The recess of engraved stone hid her as she prepared an ambush.

She waited for the child to pass her hiding place and then pounced. She snatched Toopka off the boulders. With the little doneel tucked under one arm, Kale tickled her with her free hand. Metta and Gymn circled above, letting out trills of encouragement. Kale laughed almost as hard as her captive.

She saw his boots first. The soft brown leather gleamed in the sunshine. His feet were twelve inches apart, his toes pointed straight ahead, his legs rigid. One hand gripped the handle of his tote bag, and the other rested on his hip.

Even though Kale had quit tickling, Toopka still squirmed. Kale put the doneel down on the grass before looking into the ice blue eyes of Lehman Bardon.

She tried a smile. “Ready to go?”

He nodded and looked away. Gymn and Metta landed next to Toopka.

“I’m hungry,” announced the child.

The dragons raised their voices in a series of shrill notes. Kale interpreted the dragons’ emphatic chorus of chirps. They reminded her she had promised to find the little girl a snack.

Bardon reached into a pouch hanging by a leather strap over his shoulder. With two steps, he crossed to the tiny child and handed her a packet.

Toopka grinned as she unfolded the layers. “Thank you. Ooh! Daggarts!” She took a big bite and then broke off a piece for each of the dragons.

Bardon straightened and looked at Kale. “You didn’t bring any food for the journey?”

“No.”

“We may have some distance to go once we exit the other side of the gateway.”

“Librettowit said we would be at Fenworth’s castle this afternoon.” Kale shrugged. “I didn’t think about food.”

“You are honest.”

She didn’t know how to answer. She turned away from Bardon’s steady gaze.

Hoping Librettowit would rescue her from this uncomfortable situation, she searched the pathway from The Hall. If the tumanhofer would just hurry so they could go to the gateway and leave.

“I noticed when you spoke to Magistrate Hyd.”

She looked back at Bardon with her brow furrowed. “Noticed what?”

“That you’re honest.”

“Well, honesty is good, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. Article six—‘Truth upholds the community of Paladin.’”

Metta landed on Kale’s right shoulder and Gymn on her left.

“Trouble,” she said as the dragons’ anxiety penetrated her thoughts. She glanced around the peaceful garden. Toopka stood in the middle of a flower bed, clutching a fistful of prize blossoms. “Oh no!” Kale took two steps forward, then stopped. Gymn’s agitation had nothing to do with the child. The minor dragon pinched Kale’s shoulder with his rear claws. His sense of danger raged through her mind.

Kale glanced at Bardon to see his eyes riveted upward. Following his gaze, she saw the transparent sphere floating above them, the surface skittered with tiny bursts of lightninglike energy. The air crackled, and the hair on her arms stood up. Trumpets resounded around the perimeter of The Hall compound.

“What is it?” she asked Bardon.

“A threat to the city.”

“What?”

“Watch the sphere.”

She squinted, keeping her eyes trained on the globe above them. A haze appeared in the center, then cleared. A three-dimensional image formed, showing a formation of dragons in a cloudless sky. This picture disappeared, replaced by an image of an ugly creature. Large black wings canopied over a small body. A myriad of tentacles writhed snakelike out the sides. Clawed legs hung beneath. The beast floated more than flew.

“Attack by air,” said Bardon. “Creemoor spiders.”

From a distance, she heard troops of Paladin’s warriors gathering in their squads. Boots pounded on the walkways. Men shouted orders. House servants scurried past them in a sudden frenzy of activity. A young man dressed in a lehman’s uniform rushed up to Bardon, delivered a brief message in a low voice, and darted off.

“We must go.” Bardon took her arm and pulled her toward the tower door. “Toopka, come.”

The child scurried across the courtyard and flung herself on Bardon’s back.

Bardon’s hold on Kale’s arm tightened. He dragged her through the wooden door. “My orders are to see you to safety.”

Dark dragons dotted the sky. Bundles dropped from their backs as they passed over the city. The objects plummeted a distance, then wings opened. The spiders glided in spirals toward the ground.

Kale leaned out the door and looked up. Directly above, a score of Creemoor spiders floated toward The Hall.

“Librettowit!” she protested.

“He’s coming. You must get out of the open.”

“If there’s to be an attack, I can help. Gymn’s a healing dragon. We may be needed.”

She struggled, but Bardon’s strength far outmatched hers. Toopka screamed and pointed out the door.

A spider landed in the gravel pathway to the kitchen gardens. The small stones scattered under the impact of eight shell-hard legs. The spider scuttled forward with almost delicate steps, making a critch-critch noise as the pointed claws kicked gravel. It stood for a moment as if on tiptoes and let out an eerie wheeze. Tentacles waved out from its round body, looking like skinny tongues licking the air.

Two hall guards charged into the garden with lances. The Creemoor lowered its round body to the ground and sprang at one of the guards, wrapping eight legs around the man’s body. Hindered by the tentacles lashing out at his spear, the second guard circled with his lance raised until he got an unobstructed opening. He thrust his weapon into the spider’s shiny black back. Thick gray fluid spurted out. The hall guard jumped away from the noxious fumes and horrid slime. The creature let go of his first victim and whirled around to attack.

Another guard ran up, pulled his sword, and slashed downward, severing a row of tentacles and three legs. The appendages writhed on the ground. With the soft critching sound of its pointed claws upon the gravel, the spider advanced toward the second guard.

Beyond this terrible skirmish, Kale saw Librettowit running from the mansion just as Bardon tugged at her arm.

“Wait!” She pulled away and ran out the door with her small sword drawn and ready.

A Creemoor spider thumped to the ground before the tumanhofer. Librettowit’s sword was longer and heavier than Kale’s, but the tumanhofer was only head and shoulders taller than his opponent. He hacked at the beast in front of him. The spider snapped at the tumanhofer. The click-click-click of the pincers plus the critch of its other legs on the gravel path made a muffled drumbeat over the background sounds of battle. Shrieks of terror, the clash of arms, and the grunts of both man and beast came from every direction.

Kale crept up to the Creemoor spider attacking Librettowit and jabbed her sword into the back of the creature’s head. Foul-smelling gray liquid squirted over her hand and stung. Despite the pain, she withdrew the sword and thrust repeatedly.

One of the spider’s tentacles whipped out and encircled her waist. The moonbeam cape hissed at its touch, and the tentacle jerked away. She sprang to the side to get away from the stench as well as the waving arms of the beast. Gymn and Metta swooped in and spit in the many-eyed face of the spider. Their green and purple saliva blinded the creature. It backed away into rosebushes and became entangled in thorny branches.

“To the tower!” yelled Librettowit.

She turned and saw Bardon combating two more Creemoors. She and Librettowit, along with the dragons, raced to his side. Battling the spiders, they inched toward the open door of Trell Tower. Each time they succeeded in felling a beast, another joined the fray.

Her arms ached, and her hand felt on fire. At least the long tentacles released her as soon as they felt the hissing burn of the moonbeam cape. Once a spider caught Bardon by his foot. Librettowit hacked away the thick tentacle. Twice Librettowit had to be rescued from the grip of a beast.

Turning toward the tower, the tumanhofer saw another attacking spider in his way. He charged forward, swinging his sword.

“One obstacle after another,” he grumbled. “This is why I prefer a quiet library!”

They killed three Creemoors in the fierce struggle and made it to the door. Bardon slammed it shut before another onslaught.

“Where’s Toopka?” The question wheezed from Kale’s throat.

Bardon answered. “I told her to climb to the top of the tower.”

“Oh dear,” panted Librettowit. He leaned against the wall and struggled to get his words out. “There are eight gateways at the top. If she goes through one, we’ll never find her. You two go on. I can’t just now.”

Kale sprinted to the staircase winding up the sides of the tower. The iron steps rang under her boots. Bardon’s footsteps echoed in a rat-tat-tat behind her. Light filtered through narrow windows placed at intervals up the climb. The wall shimmered with an eerie blue glow.

Metta, Gymn, fly ahead and see what Toopka’s doing. Keep her out of the gateways.

The minor dragons darted past, ascending the stairwell faster than the two o’rants could. Kale opened her mouth to call out a warning to Toopka to stay away from the gateways, but she had no breath to spare.

Her lungs strained, ready to burst. Her hand burned. The horror of battling Creemoor spiders still sent blood pounding through her veins. She was glad Bardon had been there. If not for him, she and Librettowit would have been torn apart.

Halfway up, she heard breaking glass and Toopka’s scream.