DragonKnight (13 page)

By the time Bardon finally crawled into bed, he could hear the sailors in the predawn preparing to lift anchor and take the river vessel down the Gilpen.

Later in the morning, the squire sat on one of the crates lashed to the deck and leaned up against another. He held a book in his hands and read from it sporadically. As time progressed, everyone began to relax. Nothing unusual occurred to mar the beautiful, cloudless day.

Granny Kye and N’Rae strolled the deck to get some air in the afternoon, avoiding the stern area where the two sailors and the quiss had died.

That evening, Jue Seeno announced she would not be patrolling outside the cabin.

“There’s an abundance of crewmen out there searching the water as if an invasion of quiss is imminent. I’ll be on watch here, though. I do not intend to neglect my charge.”

The uneventful night and the next day eased the tension even more. The journey downriver to the seaport took two days. The crew went about their business, but with many anxious glances at the railings around the deck. As they traveled, they passed houses on the shore and boats on the water. The people in this area seemingly went about their business in a normal way. No threat of quiss appeared. An hour away from Ianna’s dock, Bardon let go of the wariness that kept him on guard.

As they drew near the sea, a salty tang sharpened the dank smell of the river. Traffic on the waterway became congested. Small boats used for transporting people short distances joined the bigger vessels used in commerce. Barges, ferries, and packets chugged along. Voices cried out from ship to ship and from ship to shore. No one mentioned quiss or mysterious disappearances or gruesome deaths. Apparently all was well in Ianna.

Bardon carried their meager baggage above deck, and they all stood at the rail, watching and enjoying the bustle of the harbor.

As they came alongside the dock, Bardon saw an unwelcome sight.

“Look!” cried N’Rae and pointed. “That marione sitting on the cargo bales on the dock. Isn’t that Holt Hoddack?”

Granny Kye glanced at Bardon behind the girl’s back. She winked at him, and he turned abruptly away. He heard her calm voice, deep and smooth.

“Yes, infant. It is.”

         
14
         

L
ANDING IN
I
ANNA

The ship slid into its mooring, but the sailors had not yet lowered the gangway when Holt jumped off his perch. He strode to the edge of the dock, waving at them.

N’Rae waved back. “Hello, Holt. How did you get here?”

“By kindia, of course.”

His upturned face, filled with laughter, caught the rays of the sun. Two dimples framed his happy expression. The sea breeze tossed his blond hair.

“Why are you here?” asked N’Rae, smiling and still waving.

“To see you. Why else?”

N’Rae dropped her hands to clutch the railing and bounced on her toes. The minneken’s basket on her arm swung sharply, and Bardon wondered how Jue Seeno fared within.

He rolled his eyes, shook his head, and picked up the heavier pieces of their belongings to be taken ashore. He headed to where the sailors hefted the gangway into place. As soon as the wood scraped the pier, Holt bounded up, passed Bardon, and greeted the two emerlindian women. He took Granny Kye’s fragile hand in his two square ones and shook it while expressing his joy in seeing them again. But when speaking to N’Rae, the marione took both her hands and held on much longer than Bardon thought necessary.

N’Rae laughed at something the marione had said.

The squire scowled.
You silly little widget. You’re all smiles now, but this bounder will crush your happiness. I should warn you off of bestowing your friendship on someone who wears his charm like a pretty garment to make himself look better. Sir Dar’s gallant behavior is to ease another’s discomfort. How do I explain the difference to this infatuated child?

But then again, it’s no business of mine if she gets entangled with this spoiled youngster…Well, not really a youngster. I guess he’s just a year or two younger than I am.

Bardon’s fists tightened.
But N’Rae’s been entrusted to my care for some inexplicable reason. Master Hoddack is a wily man whose concept of valor certainly falls short of mine. I thought Holt didn’t want to have anything to do with this pursuit of N’Rae. So why is he here? Is he a pup, a dog, or a cur?

N’Rae giggled. The sun made a halo as it filtered through the loose strands of her light blond hair. Holt flung a hand out in an expansive gesture accentuating some story he related. He looked friendly and innocent, like a bothersome puppy.

Bardon bottled behind clamped teeth the command he wished to blast at Holt. He also fought the urge to physically remove N’Rae from the smooth marione’s guile. S
he is so incredibly naive. Someone should be keeping an eye on her.

He looked at Granny Kye. The old emerlindian gazed about her with a smile on her face, obviously enjoying the sights of the harbor and unaware that Holt was a potential threat to her granddaughter’s happiness.

I am beginning to think it’s true. This granny will not be a help on the quest. Who ever heard of an incompetent emerlindian?

Bardon felt the back of his neck tighten. “We have a lot to do,” he observed. “I’ll inquire after suitable lodging and find transportation.”

Holt stood straighter. “Let me help.”

Bardon thought the farmer’s son even puffed up a bit.

Holt beamed at the ladies. “I’ve found a modest inn, clean and un-crowded. And as I waited for your boat to come in, I scouted around the dock. I’ll be back in just a few minutes with a vehicle for hire.” He hurried away before anyone could answer.

“A most accommodating young man,” said Granny Kye.

“Yes,” said N’Rae, her eyes glowing as she watched the young man disappear in the crowd. She turned to Bardon, took his arm, and squeezed it. “Isn’t he nice? And isn’t it nice to have friends?”

Bardon put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a little shake. His response to her joy confused him.

He sighed, sent up a quick petition to Wulder for guidance, and gently squeezed N’Rae’s shoulders. “Be careful with whom you make friends, little one.”

“I know,” she giggled. “‘The friendship of a viper is not worth the spit on his tongue.’”

Bardon released her and laughed. “Yes, that is one of the pithier principles.”

Granny Kye nodded to where Holt could be seen walking in front of a cart pulled by an old horse. Big chunks of dull paint had chipped away from the cart’s chassis. A gray and muted-red striped canopy shaded the passenger seat. The upholstery looked handmade, faded but clean.

Bardon picked up most of their personal belongings. With the ladies following, he carried the baggage and bigger parcels down to the pier and onto the broad wooden platform that ran the length of the docks. He set the pieces down. Granny Kye and N’Rae stopped on either side of him. Bardon glanced at the younger emerlindian and saw her eyes trained on the handsome marione. Squire Bardon deliberately turned to study the horse instead of the irksome young couple.

The harness hung on the roan’s bony frame, and someone had put an oversized straw hat on her head. Her ears stuck through holes in the wide brim, and colorful flowers almost hid them.

Holt hurried forward. “Let me help with the luggage. N’Rae, may I carry your basket for you?” He reached for the minneken’s traveling quarters.

“Oh no, Jue Seeno’s quite light.”

Holt pulled back his hand, and a slight frown pinched his features. “Seeno?”

N’Rae’s face flushed red. “I-I s-see no reason for you to carry it. The basket is quite light.” She tittered. “I guess I’m excited. I’ve never been to a harbor city. I tend to talk too fast when I’m excited.”

Bardon heard Granny Kye’s chortle as he handed the bewildered marione two heavy bags. “Here, Holt. I appreciate the help.”

The marione quickly regained his smile and took the luggage. He headed for the cart, with the others following. Bardon carried the smaller bundles in his arms. As they approached the horse, he heard N’Rae’s soft exclamation. She plopped Jue Seeno’s basket into his arms, where it rocked precariously on the cloth-wrapped parcel next to his chin, and then she drew near to the old roan.

Jue Seeno’s high-pitched inquiry reached his ears. “What is that girl up to?”

“It looks like she’s intent on having a conversation with the horse.” He spoke, barely moving his lips for fear someone would overhear him talking to a basket.

“I can see that, Squire. That’s why I prefer to travel in a basket rather than a box. I can see through the woven reeds. And, of course, the air is always fresher. And I can hear better. But what I meant is, what purpose is there in communicating with a horse,
this
horse, at
this
time?”

“I think,” said Granny Kye, “that N’Rae likes meeting animals as much as some folks like meeting people.” She nodded at Holt, who nattered away with the driver.

The tumanhofer driver paid particular attention to Granny Kye, treating her with respect and assisting her into the passenger seat before he started with their belongings. Strapping the luggage to the back of the light cart took a few minutes. He took his time to do it properly, all the while regaling his customers with news of the town, the weather, the approaching festival, and suggesting places to visit while they stayed in his fair city.

Since Granny Kye already sat in the coach, the driver had to leave the bags every time he thought of something else he wanted to relay to her in particular. He spouted all sorts of tidbits of information, one of those things being that his wife had found a shop with very good bargains on Canal Street at the northern end of the city. He also mentioned that a small tavern nearby had excellent soups, which might come in handy, as the weather predictors said cold air would soon be turning their days chilly.

“Now, what kind of prediction is that, I ask you?” He laughed and waved a hand at the sky, where light clouds whisked over the city. “It’s still spring. More often than not, we have quick cold spells before winter fully lets loose of us and allows summer to take over. You have the wind up high there.” He paused to point at the clouds scuttling overhead. “But only a slight breeze down here. That means a change is coming.”

He went back to work.

Bardon gazed up at the azure sky and suddenly missed Greer. Flying in this type of weather challenged their skill. The smell of rain on the wind and the sudden shift of air currents invigorated them both. And whatever it was that would later make lightning skittered across their skin as if to say, “Wake up and live.”

Fenworth could explain what happens in the sky.
Bardon chuckled to himself, remembering “wizardry” lessons under the old man’s tutelage. Fenworth would try to explain and get it all garbled. Later, Librettowit would untangle the supposedly simple explanation given by the wizard.
I miss the old wizard and his librarian.

He watched N’Rae as she communicated with the horse. Both she and the animal looked content.
I miss Kale, too. I wonder if she can talk to animals. She never writes about the skills she’s acquired, only that life is exciting and the details of what everyone else is doing.

Bardon smiled as he remembered the contents of Kale’s letters, the tales of friends he hadn’t seen in too long.
They’ve all changed so much. Toopka is reluctantly learning to read and is a wonderful cook. Regidor has become as clothes-conscious as Dar, but since he doesn’t have tailoring in his background, he makes frequent trips out of The Bogs to shop and “see the world.” Gilda comes out of her bottle to visit with them all in the evening. How I would like to sit in the castle’s cozy common room and listen to those conversations.

“That does it, then,” said the driver as he cinched and buckled the last strap. “Young lady, will you be riding with your granny?”

N’Rae flashed him one of her charming smiles and came to the little box he’d put down for her to step on. “Your Sadie-Up is a very happy horse, Grupnotbaggentogg.”

“Here now,” said the driver. “You know my name because it’s on the side of my carriage. But how do you know my horse’s name?”

Bardon stifled a laugh that this glorified cart would be called a carriage.

“Sadie-Up told me,” answered N’Rae as she hopped up and settled herself on the wooden bench beside Granny Kye.

“Well, she told you wrong. Her name’s Sadie, just Sadie. And why she’d be happy, I can’t tell you. She’s old enough to be retired and living peaceably in a field somewheres, but I can’t afford to get a new horse, and I don’t trust nobody to treat her kindly. She can be stubborn.”

“She likes the rubdown you give her in the shade of a trang-a-nog tree at noonmeal…and the feed bag. She likes your grandchildren who climb all over her and give her a most thorough and unorganized rubdown every evening in the sanctuary of her cozy stall. You give her an apple, a parnot, or a carrot every morning. And she loves your wife’s fried mullins.”

“What? Who’s been feeding her those? They aren’t good for her digestion at her age!”

Bardon handed N’Rae the minneken’s basket. “What was the name of the mapmaker, Granny Kye?”

“Oh dear, I don’t remember that.”

“It was Bromptotterpindosset, Grandmother,” N’Rae said.

“Old Bromp?” The tumanhofer clapped his hands together. “He’s right on our way. Last time I talked to him he was complaining of itchy feet. We’ll stop by on our way to the inn, and if he’s not gone off to take the cure, we’ll find his shop open and ready for business.”

“And if he’s gone off to take the cure?” asked N’Rae.

“Well, then, he’ll be gone for months!”

Grupnotbaggentogg jumped onto his seat. The two young men scrambled to find a place on the small cart. They stood on the narrow running boards and clung to straps suspended from the awning over the ladies’ seat.

The tumanhofer clucked his tongue and jingled the reins.

“Sadie-up,” he called.

The cart jerked and rolled forward, heading for the busy street.