Dragons of the Valley (25 page)

Except Rayn. He rode on her head and sang encouraging marching songs. He’d come out of his unconscious state cheerful and ready to carry on. She couldn’t see him but knew he would be a shade of purple. He couldn’t use his healing ability as long as she kept moving. She longed to lie down under a tree and relax.

When they could ride on the raft, her foot gave her no trouble, but the turbulent water of this part of the river had forced the passengers to walk while Librettowit, Bealomondore, and the kimens manned the barge ropes to keep the craft from breaking away and disappearing downstream. Bealomondore had fully recovered from his near drowning and even from the five indentations in his skull. She was the only weakling.

Wizard Fenworth marched beside her. But he was deep in thought about something and provided no diversion from the pain that shot from her ankle to her hip every time her foot hit the hard dirt.

Finally she spotted the island Taeda Bel and Maxon had reported after a scouting trip. The river pooled around a small mound of earth and spread out to become a large pond. One tree dominated the landmass at the center. Grass and shrubs grew green and lush on the banks of the river. Purple wildflowers covered one side of the island, and the same color scattered over the slopes around the pool.

Librettowit declared a time of rest and refreshment. Tipper sank down
under the bentleaf tree while the others tied up the raft and Wizard Fenworth collected windfall from a fruit tree.

Rayn settled on her foot, his insistent chirring captured her attention.

“All right. I’ll take off the boot, but my ankle will swell up, and I’ll not be able to get it back on.”

Taeda Bel helped unlace the boot and ease it off Tipper’s sore foot. She also removed the stocking.

“Oh, Princess, it’s such an angry red!”

Rayn chirred softly and draped his body over the sorest part.

“It will be better in a bit,” said Tipper. “And really, Taeda Bel, please don’t call me Princess.”

Tears surprised Tipper, running down her cheeks. She swiped at her face, but not before her kimen guide saw them.

“You’re tired and hungry. I’ll bring you a cloth to wash your face, and then you’re to lie down until we have noonmeal ready.”

Tipper smiled as the bossy kimen raced to the stream and came back just as quickly with a cool, damp rag. Fenworth sat beside her and gave her a handful of plump doppers. The juicy orange fruit were no bigger than her thumb and had a solitary pit in the center. She pulled the dopper off its stem with her teeth, chewed, and then spit out the pit.

“Thank you, Wizard Fenworth. They’re the best I’ve ever had.”

He chortled. “One principle from Wulder’s Tomes is ‘An empty stomach gives the tongue an appreciative disposition.’ ”

Tipper didn’t reply but ate the rest of the little doppers. Taeda Bel brought her more, this time in a silver bowl.

“We’re going to have a fire and fried fish. Librettowit is catching the fish, and Bealomondore is building the fire.” The wizard stirred as if to get up, but Taeda Bel bowed to him. “The artist told me to tell you not to put yourself out. He’ll start the fire without one of your spells.”

Fenworth harrumphed and settled back in his comfortable position.
“Tell him one tiny fireball wouldn’t put me out even a miniscule iota. But if he insists on doing it his way, he can. Tipper and I will rest.”

Taeda Bel skipped away, and Fenworth shifted his attention to Tipper’s red and puffy foot. In the few minutes since she had removed her boot, swelling had rounded the flesh from toes to ankle.

“Oh dear, oh dear. Tut, tut, tut. Something has gone amiss.”

He scooted to sit next to Rayn and cupped one hand under Tipper’s foot and the other next to the green dragon. “You could use a little help with that, could you not, young fellow?”

A pleasant tingle replaced the throbbing ache, and Tipper sighed with relief as she leaned back to rest against the trunk of the bentleaf tree. Her heavy eyelids drooped, but just over the horizon she saw three shapes in the sky. She sat up abruptly.

“Look!” She pointed. “Dragons!”

Bealomondore shaded his eyes with his hand. “That’s a sight not seen often in Chiril.”

As they watched, the flying dragons banked and came their way. Rayn ran from Tipper’s foot to her shoulder. He chittered excitedly.

“Paladin is with them,” she said.

Wizard Fenworth patted her foot. “There’s infection in your foot from one of the scrapes. We’ll clean that out and have you dancing in the moonlight with the prince in no time.”

Bealomondore scowled at the wizard. “I doubt that he knows how to dance. Remember, he’s lived alone in his one-towered castle since his youth.”

Librettowit and Maxon approached. The librarian carried several freshly caught fish threaded on a slender bentleaf branch.

“Then the ideal thing to do,” said the librarian tumanhofer, “is for you to give Paladin lessons on ballroom comportment, and he should give you lessons in battlefield swordplay.”

Fenworth stood and shook out his robes. Tipper grinned at Hollee’s delight. She danced on her toes as tiny fish fell to the ground and flip-flopped their way to the river.

The wizard frowned. “Don’t know where those came from. Couldn’t have been with me for long. They’re still wet.” His face brightened. “You were talking about swordplay. Bealomondore, didn’t that sword I left teach you anything?”

“Quite a bit actually. Enough to keep us alive, but not so much that I now feel comfortable with the thing in my hand.”

Fenworth squinted in the direction of the three dragons. “Paladin will be here before long. Librettowit, allow me to assist you in the frying of those fish. Do you have a lemon with you, an egg, some meal to provide the crunch?”

The librarian shook his head.

The wizard sighed deeply. “Up to me. Always up to me. Glad to help though. That’s my call, servant to many, leader of all.” He headed for the fire that Bealomondore had built. “You’ve cleaned the fish already, haven’t you, Wit? Good, good. I’ll just pull out a frying pan, a bit of bacon grease, and more, much more. We’ll have a feast while the sun is high and hot, then proceed in the cooler part of the day.”

Tipper found she could not relax. But Taeda Bel would not let her get up.

“You’ll pace, mistress, and ruin all the good Rayn and the wizard did with your foot.”

Tipper leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her knees. She rested her chin on her arms and gazed at the dragons drawing nearer. With her mind, she reached out to Prince Jayrus, Paladin of Chiril. She jerked in surprise when she actually heard his voice.

“
Mindspeaking?
” he said. “
I didn’t know you could mindspeak.
”

Taeda Bel has been helping me, and she says that communicating with Rayn has increased my ability
.

“
Very good. Has she also taught you how to protect your mind from unwanted intrusion by the enemy?
”

Yes, but I hope never to have to use those techniques
.

“
I sense a peace in you, Tipper.
”

I … I understand now who Wulder is
.

“
Good indeed, for the techniques of protection do not work for those who reject Him.
”

Tipper felt a buzz in her head as if bees swarmed around her.

“
Sorry,
” said Paladin. “
I was thinking several things at once.
”

I didn’t know that was possible
.

She heard him laugh and felt it too, as if her body responded to a laugh of her own.

“
Tipper, I have learned so much since I left the Valley of Dragons with you and your questers. I am so much more aware of what responsibilities I will have to carry. I know there are many obstacles in my way. The part of me that is Prince Jayrus trembles at the responsibility. But the paladin in me joins his heart with Wulder and knows the outcome will be good.
”

Tipper closed her eyes and concentrated. Some thought she could not catch whirled around with others in his mind.

She felt anxiety tremor in her breathing. Nothing disturbed her at the moment. The feeling must come from him.

You’re worried?

“
Troubled. I bring you news that will burden your heart.
”

Before she could completely form the thought, he answered, “
No, not your parents. They are well, and so is Sir Beccaroon.
”

The buzz crescendoed until she put her hands over her ears. That didn’t block any of the irritating drone. She retreated with her mind and broke contact. Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes to see the dragons descending. She heard the rush of air beaten by strong, leathery wings.

Rayn jumped up and down, sprang into the air to do somersaults,
and jigged like a street dancer on her shoulder. She gathered from his celebration that he was overjoyed to see the riding dragons.

She laughed, infected by his exuberance, but felt it necessary to point out a pertinent fact. “You’ve ridden on one when Paladin brought you to the kimen village.”

He gave her an image of his sorry state at the time. Paladin had doubted he was strong enough to survive and hadn’t handed him over to Tipper until he was sure the young dragon would live.

The image of the puny minor dragon caught on another thought. She winced as a word covered the visual impression. Heavy, oppressive, inevitable. Death, slaughter, pain, tears.

She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the fearful prospect. A strong, gentle hand came through the wavering vision, larger than an ordinary hand. She held out her own and felt her fingers clasped in a tender embrace. She looked at her empty hand but felt the presence nonetheless.

Fear banished, she once more looked at the terrifying revelation with calm. The prediction remained.
War
.

The dragons landed in the field above the river. They trumpeted a greeting to those watching, then wandered away, evidently not interested in the plans of their two-legged friends. Paladin strode through the tall grass, his face reflecting the somber images Tipper had viewed in his mind.

With one look at their guest’s expression, the group waiting to greet him ceased waving. Tipper felt the air still around them. As if she or Paladin shared the essence of the news he brought, dread squashed the traveling troop’s enthusiasm for their visitor.

Fenworth stared at the fish frying in the skillet. One flipped over to cook on the other side. The action distracted Tipper for a moment. Of course, the wizard had turned the meat, but for an instant she thought the fish had jumped in the same manner the minnows had rolled and twisted away from Wizard Fenworth toward the river. Common sense said a gutted, filleted, and battered fish could not rise up and turn over on its own.

Librettowit stepped forward. “Tell us straight out, son.”

Paladin halted, drew in a deep breath, and expelled it. His jaw shifted back and forth twice before he managed to bring himself to speak. “Odidoddex has launched an invasion force. And Chiril’s first defensive action met with defeat—a disaster. Our people had no hope of standing against them.”

Bealomondore collapsed on a large boulder near Tipper. “Our country is not prepared for war. We have very few military institutions, a skeleton army trained to keep civil peace, and a navy that rescues stranded fishermen
more than anything else. I think occasionally they intercept ships carrying off slaves.”

Librettowit pinched his upper lip and tugged at his mustache. “You have magistrates and a justice system.”

“Lightly used,” said the tumanhofer native of Chiril. “Our populace, for the most part, are good neighbors. Thievery brings down shame on the entire clan. It’s disgraceful to cheat. Until now, the disappearance of young men and women along the coasts has been the most distressing problem for those in authority to deal with.”

“And what measures are taken against this foul business?” asked Librettowit.

“Slave trading comes from outside our borders and is an atrocious abomination claiming everyone’s attention. But for all the talk, nothing much is done. Young people are urged to be alert and cautious.”

Tipper watched Paladin’s face during the exchange. The sorrow there caused her heart to weep.

“What can you do?” she asked the young leader.

Paladin pounded his fist upon his thigh. “Nothing. King Yellat does not appreciate my interference. I hope to be of help behind the scenes.”

Wizard Fenworth spread his arms wide. “The panoramic view. What do we see when we envision the entire country as a whole?”

Librettowit nodded. “Quite. A country attacked from within and without. The statues being separated caused a rift in nature. Abnormalities sprang up as they did the first time. They have not had time to heal since Fenworth joined us.”

Tipper turned to be included in the conversation. “It seems to me that the deterioration happened at a faster rate.”

“Decidedly,” agreed Librettowit. “And the deterioration went deeper. The citizens of Chiril suffer from a malaise. Those not sitting around in a stupor grumble and quarrel with one another. The geographical disturbances were well noted in the first onslaught before the
statues were rejoined. The mental aberrations were not. That does not mean they did not exist, only that the condition was not of such an extent to cause alarm.”

Paladin scowled. “And this emotional turmoil of the populace compounds our problems.”

Bealomondore rubbed his palms over his knees. “We have a weak army, backed by a disheartened people, and complicated by short tempers and bickering.”

“Hopefully we can get the statues set up in a safe place and eliminate the dismal mental state of our people. Unfortunately there is more,” said Paladin.

“Well,” Librettowit growled, “let’s have it.”

“Chiril can’t transport goods from one area to another. Some parts of the country are without staples that are usually brought in from neighboring provinces. Those who should be sitting in seats of authority, helping to minimize the problems arising from shortages, are missing … gone.”