DragonKnight (24 page)

“Your ears.”

Bardon felt his eyebrows shoot up.

“Your ears reveal your mixed heritage.” Mistress Seeno wove several strands of bright thread together. “Some people scoff at halflings, but why?”

Good question. Why?
Bardon reached for a candy mint in a bowl beside the minneken’s chair and placed it in his mouth instead of answering.

“Because misinformed people equate the creation of a mixed race with Pretender’s creation of the seven low races.”

Bardon nearly choked. He sipped from his water glass as Jue Seeno went on without even a glance at her uncomfortable audience of one.

“Wulder does not forbid intermarrying among the seven high races. Of course, some mixes would not work for obvious reasons. Urohms and kimens, for instance.”

With difficulty, Bardon swallowed and carefully placed the glass on the hearth ledge.

“The point is that men, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to make a law that Wulder did not deem worthy of putting in the Tomes. So you have prejudice, founded on misconception and pride.”

Mistress Seeno carefully tied off her thread at the end of the row. When she had examined the work and turned it over to bind the edge, she said, “I don’t believe Wulder looks down on the seven low races.”

“You don’t?”

“I don’t see it written in the Tomes.”

“But the Tomes were written before the emergence of the seven low races. How could there be revelation of how they would stand in Wulder’s eyes?”

“Wulder is Creator of all.”

“Not the seven low races!”

The minneken lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

Bardon lowered his voice. “Pretender created the seven low races. They are a travesty of natural beings.”

“I believe that Wulder allowed the creation of these unnatural beings.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Either He is Wulder and in control, or He is not. I believe He is. Since He is Wulder, and the low races were created with His knowledge, then they will ultimately serve His purpose. Nothing Pretender does is done without the overseeing of the Creator. In the end, Wulder will use what Pretender has created for evil to do something good for all.”

Bardon paused. He searched for something to say. “I think you have a greater faith than I do.”

Jue Seeno stifled a sudden laugh in her throat. “I am just older, my boy, just older. Give your faith time to grow, be strengthened by adversity, refined by trial and error.”

Later, in his chamber, he had trouble sleeping. N’Rae’s ability to attract males, without a proper education as to what to do with them once she had them hovering around her, bothered him a great deal. Jue Seeno’s theories about Wulder’s involvement with the future of the low races puzzled him. When he finally did doze off, he slept fitfully.

The corner of his bed sank under a weight. Immediately awake, he lay still.

“It is I, Paladin. You need not fear. Sit up, Bardon. We must talk.”

His candle sizzled, and a flame sprang from the darkened wick.

Bardon pushed back the covers and sat up. Paladin sat on his bed, leaning against the tall footboard. In the flickering light, he looked weary.

“You have traveled far, my lord.”

“Yes, these are disturbing times.”

“You know about the quiss?”

“Yes.” He waved his hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. “It is monsters harder to fight than the quiss that trouble me.”

“May I be of service, my lord?”

A sad smile crossed the noble features of the leader of Amara. “Yes, you may be successful on this quest of yours. That would be a great service. I could use a dozen or so more knights who understand the code of valor.”

“Do you not have an army of warriors who understand?”

“They have been taught ineffectively—a convoluted version of the code. Among them, there are a few who have grasped the truth. But our forces are weakening. ‘Variance from the code’ is the monster that worries me most.”

“I shall do my best to bring the knights back, my lord.”

“I know you will, Bardon.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a coin. He handed it to the squire. “I brought you something to help.”

Bardon examined the small, round disk. “Kale has one similar to this.”

“Yes. Yours will help you to discern the hearts of those you encounter. If it is warm against your palm, you can trust the person. Even if their best is not good enough, their hearts are true to your cause. If the coin is cold, shun the person. His way is not your way.”

He rose to leave.

“Paladin?”

“Yes?”

“Is that all? Are there no other instructions? If this quest is so important, could you not come with us?”

“You have all that you need to be successful if you use your knowledge and resources wisely. The quest is important, but Wulder has put me on a different path.” He shrugged, and his lips lifted in a genuine smile. “I don’t choose my tasks any more than you do, Squire Bardon. But I am content to follow whatever road He lays before me. After all these years, I cannot but trust Him. Even when I misinterpret His meaning, He saves me.”

As Paladin walked out of the room, the flame guttered and went out.

He looked so tired. How could one empowered by Wulder look so weary?

         
30
         

A
DDITIONS

Those planning to depart on the quest gathered at the dragon field as the sun peeked over the horizon.

“Oh look, how beautiful,” said N’Rae as she and Bardon crested the hill. “Why are the dragons dancing?”

Soft, pink rays of the new morning glistened on jewel-like dragon scales and the dew clinging to the grass carpet beneath their feet.

“They’re stretching, getting their blood moving.”

“You mean like a lizard or a snake warms itself on a sun-baked rock?”

“Don’t say anything like that around Greer. Dragons are not reptiles.”

N’Rae giggled. She pointed to Jue Seeno’s basket, which she carried on her arm, and whispered, “Just like minnekens are not mice.”

“Exactly.” Bardon steered N’Rae to the side of the field, where they had a better view.

Six dragons moved with surprising grace in a slow-motion ballet. Their different colors added to the dramatic effect. Two, besides Greer, were purple and blue hued. Yellow and copper scales covered one. The last two belonged to the green cast of dragons, but one had yellow accenting his wings, and the other’s underscore color was a shimmering blue.

Bardon enjoyed watching the dragons stir their blood.

“Like many older people,” he said, “when dragons first come out of a slumber, they are stiff. Of course, Greer has another theory. He says his body is so huge, he has to do these exercises to remember where the different parts are. He is reminding his brain where his tail is and what he can do by swishing it around. Same with his legs and wings. He says his brain never loses track of his neck or his stomach.”

N’Rae laughed, then pointed across the field. “Look. There’s Sir Dar.”

Sir Dar stood talking to three men and two women. By their uniforms, Bardon identified them as dragon riders. The doneel shook hands with each one and then came to join N’Rae and his squire.

“I’ve provided you with five dragons and their riders, Captain Anton and his guard,” said Dar. “They are under your command, Squire Bardon. Also, I have had several requests from individuals who wish to join your quest.”

“A guard?” asked N’Rae. “What’s a guard?”

“A military unit,” answered Sir Dar. “A captain and four loes. A lo is higher rank than leecent and lower than lehman.”

“Is a captain higher in rank or lower than a leetu?”

“Lower,” said the doneel. “Why do you want to know of military rankings?”

“Bardon mentioned a Leetu Bends, that’s all.”

Sir Dar sent his squire a quizzical look. Bardon merely shrugged. He didn’t know why his little emerlindian comrade should take such an interest in someone he spoke of once.

“Is that good, Bardon?” asked N’Rae. “To have more people to help rescue Father?”

“That depends.” He looked at Sir Dar. “Who wants to join us?”

“Follow me.” Dar led them to the other side of the field, skirting the dancing dragons. The five in service to Sir Dar executed their drill in synchronized motions. Greer only just managed to keep up. He usually performed his morning exercises by himself.

Watching his dragon trying to blend in caused Bardon to puzzle over the odd behavior.
Why are you even bothering to join their routine?
The squire’s eyes moved to the graceful golden female between the two greens.
Yes, I see what you mean. She is, indeed, a beauty.

Bardon put his hand on N’Rae’s elbow to guide her. Her head was turned so she could admire the graceful movements of the dragons. She had no idea when Sir Dar changed directions and would have walked off the steep decline on that side of the hill if Bardon hadn’t tugged on her arm.

Three people, two boys and a man, stood near the tack house. Bardon knew two, Ahnek and Trum Aspect. A surprisingly slender tumanhofer youth stood next to Ahnek. He had a walking stick in his hands and gazed over the dragon field.

Bardon stuck his hand into his pocket, curling his fingers around the coin Paladin had given him.

Sir Dar led him to the courtier Trum Aspect, who had distanced himself from the poorly clad boys, and made introductions.

The coin grew cold in Bardon’s hand. He bowed politely. “I decline your generous offer, Master Aspect. We have no need of your estimable talents on this journey into the wilderness.”

Aspect held his expression in check and bowed with just the right amount of deference. “Your choice, of course,” he answered. He turned on his heel and strode off toward the castle.

When he had passed the end of the field, Sir Dar muttered, “I wouldn’t have taken him, either. Shifty. Couldn’t figure out why he wanted to go.”

“I believe he thinks N’Rae is a valuable commodity.”

Sir Dar tilted his head, and his ears lay back. “Emerlindians are becoming scarce, but his investments are usually more commercial.”

As they walked closer to the shed and the two boys, Dar said, “Next, we have two eager young adventurers. Ahnek, you know. The other is Sittiponder from Vendela. He has traveled here for the express purpose of joining your quest.”

“He must have known of it long before I did.”

“He probably did. He is a blind seer.”

“Sittiponder?” Bardon spoke the name in a considering tone, then paused. “I think Kale mentioned this lad.”

“She did. He’s an associate of the street urchin, Toopka.”

Bardon clenched the coin in his fist. It held warmth as he studied one boy and then the other. He and Sir Dar stopped in front of the boys. Ahnek looked up with a smile. Sittiponder cocked his head slightly, but his face remained directed to the field he could not see.

Bardon put his free hand on the blind boy’s narrow shoulder. “What is your reason for coming, Sittiponder?”

“To serve Paladin, Squire.”

“How will you serve him?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t been told. I have only been told to come.”

Bardon considered the answer.

The boy shuffled his feet. “I have a talent that might be useful.”

Dar’s ears perked. “And this is?”

“I hear voices of wisdom.”

Dar cocked his head and nodded. He looked up at Bardon. His squire nodded as well.

“Why do you want to go, Ahnek?” Bardon asked.

“I can be of use, and I desire to train to be a knight. With my background I have no hope of entering service unless I make myself useful.” He stopped and looked around as if to find something he could do immediately to show his willingness. He grasped Sittiponder’s arm. “I can be this seer’s eyes. He will need help. I can do that. Then neither of us will be a burden to you.”

Sittiponder carefully removed his arm from Ahnek’s hold. “I am not as helpless as you would think.”

“Of course not,” Ahnek said quickly. “But wouldn’t it be convenient for you to have a servant?” A big grin spread across his face. “I’d like that if I were you. Bet you’ve never had someone at your beck and call. Sounds good, huh?”

Bardon knew something of Sittiponder’s history as a street urchin who told stories in exchange for food. He almost laughed at the irony of one boy being servant to the other. But the dignity exhibited by both lads kept him from so much as smiling.

“You shall both come,” he said, “and you shall both do chores that fall to you. Sittiponder, go to each dragon and determine who is the best mount for you. Ahnek, accompany him. You will ride with him on whomever he chooses.”

Sittiponder chose the largest of the dragons. Named Frost, the blue purple major dragon had wings with a silver shimmer over his sapphire hide. Silver also edged each purple scale. Small blue stones and silver beads adorned his black leather saddle and straps.

“You’ve chosen well,” said Bardon. “He’s muscular enough to carry the triple saddle and supplies.”

“He’s magnificent, Sitti,” Ahnek said after describing Frost in detail. “Why did you pick him?”

“He’s the only one who talked to me.”

“He did?” Ahnek’s mouth hung open. “You mean like mindspeaking? Talking back and forth in your head without words?”

A small smile slipped into place on the gentle tumanhofer’s face. “There are words, but I hear them in my thoughts, not with my ears. I hear voices a lot. It used to scare me when I was little, but someone told me about Wulder, and from then on, I could tell which voices were good and which were bad. I learned to shield myself from the bad voices.”

“For true? What did the bad voices say?”

Sittiponder laughed. “Do you know that hardly anyone ever asks me what the good voices say?”

Ahnek rolled his eyes. “Well, what do the good voices say?”

“They tell me the secrets of the universe.”

“Secrets?”

Sittiponder nodded.

“Are you allowed to share the secrets? Say, with someone who is your personal servant and does all sorts of things to make your life more easy?”

Sittiponder’s smile twisted at one corner of his mouth. “I suppose…if I knew such a person. I don’t know such a person yet. Someone who has actually been of service and not just talked about it.”

“Do you have a parcel I could fetch for you?”

“No.”

“Are you thirsty? hungry? Can I get you something?”

“No.”

Ahnek’s shoulders drooped. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

Bardon laughed. “You boys better get on board. Ahnek, Sittiponder has never ridden a dragon. You will need to describe the way to climb up, and give him a hand.”

“Right!” said the young o’rant. “This way, then.” He put his hand on Sittiponder’s elbow and steered him to Frost’s hind leg. He stopped, a look of confusion washing over his features.

“Squire Bardon?”

“Yes, Ahnek?”

“The thing is, I haven’t ever ridden a dragon myself.” He scratched his head. “I don’t suppose you could show us the way up.”

“I’d be glad to.” Bardon stepped closer to the boys. “First, since this is a dragon you are only briefly acquainted with, the proper etiquette would be to go to his head and ask permission to board.”

“I’ll do that,” said Sittiponder. He moved away from Ahnek and walked deliberately along the reclining dragon’s side, directly to Frost’s head. Frost looked at the lad solemnly, and his head bobbed. Sittiponder grinned.

He came back to Bardon and Ahnek. “He thought it was funny when I asked if it would be too much extra weight to carry us. He said we were like fleas on a dog, to climb up, and he’d appreciate it if we didn’t bite.”

Bardon showed them how to mount the dragon and explained the triple seat. One large leather pad lay over the dragon’s spine, molded to fit the ridges that rose between his shoulders. Three seats were sewn to the large rectangle. The rider sat forward, and the passengers sat facing the rear. Their legs fit into knee hooks. A padded crest rose between the knees with places either to rest the hands or to grip when the dragon’s flight became erratic. Each section had a high cantle to lean against and pouches at the side where food, drink, and blankets were stored.

“It can get very chilly in the higher altitudes,” explained Bardon. “If you feel like you might go to sleep, there’s a strap to put across your waist. The buckle is over here. You can wear this belt all the time if you like.”

“Excuse me, Squire Bardon,” said Ahnek. “What does
erratic
mean? Does it mean ‘dangerous’?”

“Erratic?”

“You said to hold on when the dragon’s flight became erratic. What does
erratic
mean?”

Bardon remembered using the word when he described the parts of the saddle. Ahnek had a very inquisitive mind. The boy would do well in life. Bardon put his hand on the lad’s shoulder as he explained. “When a dragon is chasing something or being chased, he will make sharp banks, soar upward, or plunge downward. That’s an erratic flight. Also, the belt can be useful when the wind is rather forceful.”

“How will Granny Kye fare in such a seat?” asked Sittiponder.

“She’ll travel in a basket, as will Bromptotterpindosset. Wizard Fenworth says that old bones don’t bend to fit right in a dragon’s saddle.” He looked over to where N’Rae settled her grandmother in the woven contraption. “The basket has a special name, doohan. It looks like the cab of a single-seat buggy, doesn’t it? The doohan is tightly woven out of small reeds. This makes the enclosure warm for the passenger and light for the dragon. It rides on the side of the dragon rather than perched on top like a saddle. This is for the dragon’s ease. Usually, it’s balanced with an equal load on the other side, sometimes another doohan.”