DragonFire (19 page)

         
27
         

A
NOTHER
S
URPRISE

Bardon studied his mother-in-law. She knew Leetu Bends, had trained her to take her place in Creemoor, and trusted the young emerlindian to continue her work. The work had been her way of dealing with the loss of husband and daughter. Now she had her family back, but had Leetu Bends destroyed her labor of all those years?

Lady Lyll looked down at her plate. Using her fork, she pushed one large tubular pasta through the creamy sauce. She twirled it to and fro but did not pick it up.

Bardon’s mother-in-law mindspoke to him.
“Keep Gilda busy while I communicate with Leetu Bends.”

Bardon cleared his throat and drew the attention of the others. “What are the chances of finding the meech colony if they don’t want to be found?”

Gilda took the bait. “Once they know that two meech dragons are looking for their own, I imagine they will send out an emissary to lead us home.”

“Why do you call this nameless, hidden location your home?”

Gilda shook her shoulders and lifted her chin as she sat up straighter. “I find most society a little crude. Even my dear Regidor mingles too much with the mundane.”

Bardon chanced a peek at Lady Lyll. She did not look happy. Was she listening to Gilda or Leetu Bends?

Regidor gave Gilda a half smile but looked Bardon in the eye. Bardon watched his expression for a moment and determined the meech dragon had picked up on the tension between Dar, Lady Lyll, and himself.

Bardon tried focusing a thought to Regidor’s mind. It would be pointless unless the meech were already eavesdropping.
Are you listening to me, my friend?

“I am, indeed.”

One of our allies, Leetu Bends, is the emerlindian girl Gilda pointed out.

“I had surmised that much.”

Either she’s in trouble, and we should help, or she is doing her job and would not appreciate our interference.

“I’d say neither.”

Why?

“Do you forget that I see auras around people and can discern their general standing, whether good-hearted or a black villain?”

Bardon’s eyes widened. It had been a long time since he had seen his friend use that particular talent.

“And?” Bardon forgot and spoke aloud.

“And what?” asked Gilda.

“And,” said her husband, “Leetu Bends and her friend, Latho, are companions. Friends. Nothing more sinister and nothing immoral.”

Sir Dar cocked his head, his ears perked forward. “The bisonbeck isn’t under Pretender or the evil wizards?”

“No.” Regidor shook his head and turned to study the couple. “The lights dancing around him tell of peace, generosity, and a deep sadness.”

Lady Lyll leaned forward so she could see around Gilda. “Have you ever seen the like of it before, Regidor?”

“No, never.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Gilda arched a shoulder and smoothed her sleeve. “He’s still a bisonbeck and not to be trusted.”

“I’ve had enough of speculation.” Sir Dar stood. “Excuse me.”

The doneel’s eyes were locked on Leetu Bends.

Bardon decided he’d better go along. “Excuse me.” He followed his friend as the doneel zigzagged between the tables.

Sir Dar approached the table where Leetu and her friend sat. He swept his arm in front of him and gave a court bow. When he straightened, a pleasant smile brightened his eyes and turned his thin black lips upward in a smile that almost stretched from ear to ear across his furry face.

Leetu jumped up from the table and hugged the doneel.

“I want you to meet my friend.” She turned to the bisonbeck who had awkwardly risen and stood behind her. “This is Latho.”

He stretched out his hand and shook with Sir Dar. Dar’s hand closed around two of the bigger man’s fingers.

Latho grunted. It might have been a word, but Bardon didn’t catch it. Leetu Bends looked at him and back to Dar.

Dar stepped to the side, and with an open hand, gestured to Bardon. “This is Kale Allerion’s husband, Sir Bardon.”

“We’ve met.” Leetu Bends saluted Bardon with a fist tapped over her heart. “The introduction was meant for you, Latho.”

Bardon returned the salute, then put his hand out to shake with the bisonbeck. For the first time, except in a fight of some kind, Bardon touched one of Pretender’s chosen race of warriors. Bardon’s hand almost covered the big man’s palm, but his fingers didn’t extend far enough to wrap around the hand.

“What brings you to Grail?” he asked Leetu Bends.

“Latho. His family lives here.” She gave a quick glance around the room. “Look, let’s sit down. We’re attracting attention, and Latho hates it.”

“Hates what?” asked Bardon.

“Don’t be thick,” she said, pushing Dar and Bardon toward the alcove table. “He doesn’t like people staring at him. It happens all the time because he doesn’t wear the uniform.”

They crowded in around the little square table, Latho in the back next to the wall, Leetu Bends next to him, and Dar on the outside. Bardon sat opposite the knight and the emerlindian. The last side had no bench, and servants passed by with their trays and pitchers.

The emerlindian’s hair had darkened since Bardon had seen her last. Instead of the soft honey color, her straight locks held a red undertone that caught the light of the lanterns. A light tan had tinted her skin. He couldn’t see the color of her eyes in the gleam of the scattered lamps. However, Bardon suspected her sky blue eyes were darker now.

Leetu Bends fingered her spoon, turning it over and over where it lay next to her plate. “We heard about the quiss attacking some sea vessels last week and came up because one of Latho’s brothers is a sailor. We couldn’t get any reliable information down south. Some people even said that the boats were transporting the quiss.”

“Ridiculous rumors,” said Latho and shuddered.

Bardon thought it a very believable shudder. He looked across the room at his mother-in-law, and she dipped her head, just enough to relay she perceived the bisonbeck’s reaction to be true and not a sham.

“Why,” asked Bardon, “does Latho not follow the usual path of bisonbecks? He obviously isn’t a warrior.”

“He’s a merchant,” explained Leetu Bends. “He trades goods.” She ducked her head and lowered her voice. “He provides the market commodities for Burner Stox’s army.”

“It’s not as if I have a choice,” Latho said. He shrugged his massive shoulders. “It was either develop a career that aided her cause or mysteriously disappear. And I don’t mean that I would arrange this inexplicable vanishing act.”

Sir Dar patted Leetu Bends’s hand and gently removed the spoon. He laid it on the table out of her reach. “And tell us about your friendship. You know that it is odd, to say the least.”

Latho studied his dirty plate. All the food had been eaten, but the remnants seemed remarkable enough to capture his full attention.

Leetu Bends chose to answer the inquiry. She lowered her voice to such a whisper that Bardon had to strain to hear her. “Latho has abandoned his oath to follow Pretender. He has vowed allegiance to Wulder.”

Bardon opened his mouth to say that the emerlindian’s revelation was impossible. He stopped, sealed his lips together, and looked to Sir Dar to make some remark.

“And you believe him?” asked the doneel.

Bends nodded.

“Why?” asked Bardon. He couldn’t help the frown on his face or giving the quiet bisonbeck another look of examination.

“Because he transported me when I was wounded to a safe house. He paid for my keep while I got well, and…” She lowered her voice even more. Bardon leaned across the table, then realized she mindspoke the final words.
“He gives me information about the enemy troops that I pass on to Paladin’s generals. He’s a spy.”

         
28
         

S
NAKES

Kale lowered herself down the side of the cliff, holding on to a long rope her father had anchored to a boulder on the path above. The minor dragons accompanied her, making useless suggestions. They didn’t really understand how an o’rant navigated the world. She grumbled as her knee scraped against the rock wall.

“What was that, my dear?”
asked her father.

Nothing. Just remembering your last instructions.

“Find the bodies and dispose of them.”

You know this isn’t what I normally do,
objected Kale, trying to keep her mindspeaking voice light. She didn’t want her father to know the depth of her annoyance.
I haven’t disposed of a body yet in all my experience as a warrior, and I’m not so sure I’ll think of something to do with them.

“I have confidence in you.”

Dibl landed on her head, and she almost giggled. “Get off. I don’t need you telling me this is humorous. This is not humorous, and I don’t need the added complication of carrying you down this cliff.”

The orange and yellow dragon hopped off and did a fancy acrobatic maneuver before soaring above her head.

“That did not cheer me up. It certainly does not show me that I need not be nervous. I don’t have wings!”

Sir Kemry’s voice in her head interrupted.
“Are you down yet?”

Kale snorted.
What have you done with the bisonbecks on the path?

“Still working on it.”

Well, I’m still working on rappelling this sheer drop of over one hundred feet.
She looked up to judge how much she had already accomplished and caught her breath. She looked the opposite direction and smiled.
I’m nearly to the bottom.

“Do you see the two warriors?”

Yes. It’s pretty hard to miss three-hundred-pound, seven-foot-tall corpses.

Kale’s feet touched the floor of the gorge. She unwound the rope from between her legs and stepped away from the cliff. She looked up to see her father’s head as he peered over the edge.

Any ideas as to what I should do with these goons?

“Bury them?”

Kale stamped her foot.
In solid rock?

“You’ll think of something. And, Kale?”

Yes?

“Do watch out for Creemoor spiders. We’re very close to their territory.”

His head disappeared from view, and Kale scowled as she examined the area. Her dragons provided the only color in the scene aside from a few scraggly bushes. She studied the ground, looking for the telltale scratch marks that Creemoor spider legs made. She saw nothing to alarm her except the two inconvenient bodies of the bisonbecks. Something must be done with them.

Maybe she’d find a cave or deep crevasse to shove the bodies into. Then she could cover the entrance with rocks to keep wild animals from dragging them out again. She communicated to the dragons what she wanted to find and began the search.

As she walked, she ran over every wizardry ploy she might use to conceal the dead enemy. The fact that her father couldn’t think of anything was some consolation. After all, he’d been a wizard and a knight much longer than she had been a wizard. If he couldn’t pull an idea out of his experience, she shouldn’t be faulted. But she had to admit, she’d like to be the one to come up with a plan.

She passed the bisonbecks and avoided looking at them. Too much blood and gore turned her stomach. Bardon said she would never get used to it. He hadn’t. Wrinkling her nose against the coppery odor of blood, she focused on finding a cave.

She explored close to the opposite wall, peering into cracks and behind scrubby bushes, traveling north for two hundred feet. Not wanting to carry the bodies any farther, she started back, examining the other side of the chasm. She returned to the fallen warriors without uncovering a hiding place. Her dragon helpers had strayed from their task. Pat had discovered a delectable insect in abundant supply. The others had joined in the feast, chittering to one another about the unexpected sweetness and enjoyable crunch of the bug.

“Would you six lollygaggers get back to work! We’re supposed to be disposing of bisonbecks, not beetles.”

Hoping for better results as she moved south, she continued up the gorge. Just as she contemplated crossing to the other side and searching the opposite wall, she spotted a dark shadow that could be a cave. She called to the dragons, who joined her and exclaimed over the find. It was a cave.

She sighed. “I wonder if I can raise those corpses off the ground and float them this far. What was that called? Levitation. I think I’ve remembered correctly. Fenworth taught us years ago. I do remember I wasn’t very good at it. I needed Bardon to complete the task then. And Regidor. Well, Regidor, of course, could do it on his own. Ah, it would be nice to have Regidor here.”

She approached the shadow and saw that it was, indeed, more than just a large crevasse. “I wonder how deep you are?” She spoke to the cave as if it would answer.

With a gesture to Ardeo, she stepped inside the opening. “Come on, friend, light the way.” The small dragon flew ahead of her. As soon as the light faded from the entry, Ardeo’s mottled white skin began to glow with a beautiful moonlike luminance.

“Ah, this is plenty big,” said Kale, looking around. “But I don’t see many loose rocks to cover the bodies. What are those black lumps ahead? Are those—”

One of the mounds moved.

Kale stopped in her tracks and hissed, “Let’s get out of here.”

A head on a skinny neck arose and hissed back. A red forked tongue flicked, tasting the air. Ardeo swooped over the cluster of dark, roundish creatures. More heads popped up and voiced their disapproval with a sound somewhat like a kettle letting off steam.

Kale stretched out her hand and a globe of light appeared on her palm. She hurled it to pass over the nest. She gulped as the light revealed what she and Ardeo had stumbled upon. A hundred heads swerved above a mass of intertwined bodies. Beady eyes stared back at her. Crimson tongues licked the air.

“I don’t like snakes,” murmured Kale as she inched backward. “One tiny garden snake is tolerable.” She took another step back as the heads swayed, but none of the creatures slithered from the nest. “One medium-sized water snake is acceptable.”
How much farther is it to the opening? I have to keep calm.
“One large and lazy tree snake can easily be avoided.” She narrowed her eyes and glared at the reptiles. “This…this is ridiculous.”

The snakes uncoiled and followed. Kale gasped again. Not quite as many snakes threatened her as she had thought. Each body had five heads. So only twenty or so serpents slithered across the rock floor. Their heavy bellies rasped across the stone.

The warmth of the sun hit her back. A few more feet and she would be out of the cave. Would these creatures follow? She drew her sword and called mentally to her dragon friends,
Come help me. Snakes!

Kale backed into the open, sunlit area. The snakes slithered out and stopped a moment to blink their eyes.

Were they grinning? A shiver went up Kale’s spine. These serpents were unnatural. Her dragons dove from above, spitting caustic saliva. The smirking reptiles dodged most of the hits and countered by striking upward. Several times they almost connected with the swift dragons.

The snakes fanned out and surrounded Kale. She swung at them with her sword, but the devious creatures kept out of range.

Father!

“What is it?”

I’m surrounded by snakes. Come help me!

“You’ve fought bisonbecks and grawligs, mordakleeps and quiss, blimmets and schoergs. You can handle a few snakes.”

There are more than a few, and each one has five heads.

“Five heads?”

Yes! I think that one over there has six, no seven, but most of them only have five.

“Unnatural. Sounds like Crim Cropper’s work to me. He’s always experimenting. Then when he tires of a project, he dumps them into the wild.”

I don’t care how they got here. I want help protecting myself.

A snake lowered all five heads and sped forward. When it reached her feet, Kale swung downward with her sword, scooped the beast up, and flung it against the stone wall. It hit with a cracking thud and five lesser thuds, then slid to the chasm floor.

“Are the minor dragons gone? They aren’t protecting you? Oh, blast! They haven’t been eaten by these nasty snakes, have they?”

They’re here, spitting. But the heads are hard to hit, and the dragons are going to run dry soon.

“You can do this, Kale. You don’t need me. Five heads, you say? If we judge by Crim Cropper’s other experiments, they’ve only one brain between them. Not literally, of course, but figuratively. They should be slow and stupid.”

They are not slow, and I have no way to determine how intelligent they are.

One serpent charged Kale. She lopped off a couple of heads, and it retreated.
I
can
say they are persistent.

“Well, if you insist, I’ll come down. It’ll take a minute or two.”

Kale bit back the plea to hurry and busied herself keeping the troop of snakes at bay. She caught movement in the corner of her eye. Surprised that her father had accomplished the climb so quickly, she glanced beyond the circle of reptiles to greet him.

Four short, stocky ropmas glared at her. She sensed more newcomers and turned to see five of the hairy beasts standing behind the other group of snakes.

Father!

“I’m coming,” he snapped. “I’m not as young as I used to be, and I’m a lot stiffer.”

Nine ropmas have joined the fight against me. I could really use some help.

“The ropmas are attacking?”

Not yet. So far they’re just standing around, making faces.

“They aren’t likely to attack. They’re generally very placid creatures.”

One of the snakes flashed a head at her leg and struck. She yelped and hopped backward. The leather of her boot showed a mar, but the fangs had not penetrated.

Pardon me if I am a little skeptical, Father. You’re the one who told me the snakes would be slow.

“Throw some ice on them. They are reptiles. Cold will slow them down.”

I’m short of water to make ice.

“I can’t think of everything, Kale. Use some initiative.”

Kale let out an exasperated growl. She dropped her sword, balled her fists, and began to throw orbs of energy. She took three seconds to gather a charge of power in her palm, opened her hand, and hurled the weapon into the squirming snakes. In a few minutes, most of the creatures were dead. Around the circumference of the slithering circle, the ropmas stamped the remaining injured and retreating snakes.

Kale heard a noise behind her and swiveled to throw another blast of energy. Her father stood with his hands on his hips.

“See? I told you so. You didn’t need me in the least.” He nodded toward the ropmas. “And the hairy beasts were not here to attack you but to help.” He shook his head. “You really must have more confidence in your father, Kale. I’ve been around quite a while.”

He knelt beside one of the slain serpents and picked up its head. He screwed up his mouth and wrinkled his nose. “Poor workmanship. Definitely Crim Cropper’s design.” He used his thumb to open the creature’s mouth. “The fangs are not hollow. No poison here.” He dropped the beast, dusted his hands against his britches, and stood. “I supposed it would smart some if one received a hit from one of the foul creatures.”

A spot ached on Kale’s leg where her boot had protected her from a “foul creature’s” strike.

One comment came to her mind, and she didn’t bother to disguise it from her father.
I want my husband.