DragonQuest (17 page)

“Who is he waiting for?”

She bit back an angry retort. It wasn’t easy plucking an answer from a mind that had only a vague notion. Instead of snapping at Bardon, she focused on the man-beast below.

Small.

Covered in hair.

Important.

Nice clothes.

Kale’s hand moved over to Bardon’s arm. Her fingers dug into his sleeve.

Bardon, he’s waiting for Dar.

         
29
         

D
IRT

What should we do?

“Intercept Dar.”

Good idea.

Kale turned away from Bardon and faced the house. Not that she needed to in order to reach Dar with her mind, but Bardon always flustered her. Most of the time his cool, trained attitude reminded her that he had been in Paladin’s service since he was a child. And she hadn’t even completed three weeks of training.

Dar, where are you?

“In my chambers. Why? What’s wrong?”

There’s a ropma here in the barn waiting for you.

“He’s early.”

You’re expecting him?
She turned to Bardon.
He’s expecting him.

His face looked as though he’d swallowed a peppernut.
“Yeah, I heard.”

Kale took a moment to gloat.
So are you going to quit denying you can mindspeak?

He looked away, deliberately studying the dark form below them.
“Dar, this is Bardon.”

You don’t have to tell him who you are. He can tell by your voice.

“Be quiet, Kale.”

Kale stifled a giggle.
I am being quiet. I haven’t spoken a word.

“You know what I mean. Leave me alone. This is not the right time to harass me.”

Kale allowed the seriousness of their situation to sober her. She nodded.

Bardon ignored her.
“Dar, what do you want us to do with this ropma?”

“Keep him from getting caught. He isn’t the ripest berry on the bush. I’ll be there as soon as I can. By the way, his name is Dirt.”

Kale furrowed her brow.
Dirt?

Bardon put his hand over hers. Her fingers still rested on his sleeve, and she felt a flush go up her neck as she realized she’d been holding on to him all this time.

“I’ve never met a ropma, but according to the books, the parents name their children after things in their natural surroundings—grass, cloud, rock, stone, rain, bird, bug.”

Kale listened to Bardon’s steady voice in her mind. How quickly he returned to a state of control. Kale knew she was too easily ruffled and stayed ruffled too long.

She decided she could learn to be stoic under fire.

All I have to do is develop the tendency, right? Well, I’m just going to work on it.

“What are you talking about?”

I’m not talking. I’m thinking. And you shouldn’t be listening. It’s rude.

“How am I supposed to not listen? You’re right here!”

He stopped glowering at her and surveyed the area below. He pointed to one of the stalls. A man stood and groped for the latch to the stall gate. He stumbled out of the small enclosure, heading for the back door.

Kale’s head swung back to where the ropma had been standing. Dirt had moved. She couldn’t see him, but she located him using her talent. He was crouched behind two stacked bales of hay.

The stableman who had awakened went out a door at the back.

Bardon, the ropma is going to run. He’s scared.

“We have to stop him. Dar wants to talk to him.”

She swung a leg over the top of the ladder, speaking loudly enough to ensure the ropma would hear. “I’m going to go get a drink. You coming?”

“Sure,” Bardon responded after only a second’s delay. “That stew at supper was good, but salty.”

They crept down the ladder. The wooden rungs creaked under their steps. Kale cast an anxious eye to the stall where more men slept and at the door at the back of the barn. The other man would return.

Bardon and Kale walked toward the front door as if they intended to go out to the well. When they passed the ropma’s hiding place, Bardon sidestepped to come up behind the man-beast, as she went over the top of the bales in front of the creature.

Bardon clamped a hand over his hairy mouth. The lehman’s strong arm encircled Dirt, pinning his scraggly arms to his sides. The man-beast looked like a large rag doll in Bardon’s arms.

Kale went before them, opening the door, then shutting it when Bardon had dragged the kicking, struggling ropma outside. A bright moon in a cloudless sky bathed the barnyard with too much light. They hurried to the back of a row of storage sheds to get out of sight.

She did a quick sweep of the immediate vicinity. The only person up and about was the man who had left to take care of a natural need. He now headed back to his bed of hay.

She turned to look at the ropma. His dark eyes, fringed all around with long, black lashes, widened. Kale could see his panic as well as feel it with her talent.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” she assured the frightened man-beast. “We work with Dar. He wants you to stay here.”

Bardon spoke into Dirt’s ear. “If I let you go, you must not make any noise. Agreed?”

Dirt nodded. Bardon cautiously removed his hand from the creature’s mouth and loosened his grip on the wiry body.

The ropma opened his mouth and squeaked, “Please, please, don’t hurt Dirt. Dirt do what you say.”

“We don’t want to hurt you,” Bardon whispered. “Just stay here until Dar comes. He’s on his way.”

“Sir Dar nice man. Sir Dar save Dirt’s life. Help Ma and Da. Sir Dar nice man.”

“Yes, he is.” Kale patted Dirt’s trembling arm, wondering how old he was. Surely he wasn’t a child, but he acted like a scared boy. “He’ll be here in just a minute, and you can talk to him.”

Dirt’s head bobbed up and down, and his mouth opened in a wide grin, showing remarkably straight teeth glowing white in the moonlight.

“Sir Dar be happy. Dirt remember everything. Everything. All the little things. All the big things. Dirt remember. Dirt important.”

Bardon sighed and put his hand on the man-beast’s shoulder. “I’m sure you are. Sir Dar didn’t want you to leave before he could speak to you. He’s coming out of the manor now. I’m telling him where we are.”

Dirt hopped from one foot to the other in his excitement. When Dar came around the corner of the last shed, Dirt fell down on his knees. “Master, master, Dirt tell you everything. You be happy, master. You be happy with Dirt.”

Dar gently patted the ropma’s head. “Get up now. You don’t need to grovel with me.”

On his feet, Dirt stood a head taller than the doneel. “Grovel,” the man-beast repeated the unfamiliar word. “Grovel. No grovel with Sir Dar. No grovel. Just tell Sir Dar everything. Big things. Little things. Everything.”

“Yes. What do you have to report, Dirt?”

“Report?”

“Let’s start with the big things.”

The ropma shifted from foot to foot and stared at the ground.

Dar laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Dirt. You won’t get it wrong. I won’t be angry.”

“Sir Dar nice man.”

“Yes. Tell me about the meech dragons.”

“Far away. In the north.”

“How many?”

“Ten. Far away.”

“Are they free?”

“Can’t buy them.”

“No, I didn’t mean we should buy them. Are the meech dragons able to come here?”

“No. Far away. In the north. Far away. No come today.”

Bardon sighed and paced a few steps to the corner of the building. He took up a position to watch the yard.

“This could take a while.”
His thoughts entered Kale’s mind as a gentle whisper.

She agreed. But that wasn’t what was on her mind.
Bardon, did you see how well we worked together? I knew exactly when you were going to grab Dirt. I knew you wanted me to block his escape to the door in case he slipped out of your hold. When we came out of the barn, I knew where you wanted to take him. You weren’t mindspeaking to me. I just knew.

“Yes, I noticed.”

What do you think it is?

Bardon kept his eyes on the expanse between the manor and the barn and shrugged.

I couldn’t even do that with Leetu Bends, and she’s always been the easiest person for me to mindspeak with.

He fell silent. Kale reached to his mind and met the swirl of confused thoughts. The impressions she received indicated the lehman loathed everything about mindspeaking.

Why are you so angry?

“I’m not.”

You’re angry because you can mindspeak, and you can think with me when we do something together, so we don’t even have to try to communicate. It makes you mad.

“Mad. Angry. Those aren’t the right words, Kale. I’ve always known what I was going to do in my life. I was going to be a knight, a plain, ordinary knight, serving Paladin to the best of my ability. Now what am I?”

You’re still a servant of Paladin. You’re a skilled warrior. You’re an honorable man. You just don’t have the word “knight” in your name someplace.

The ropma jumped up and down. His squeaky voice screeched in the night air. “No, no, Sir Dar. You not go to there. Far away. Many bad people. Bad ropma. Bad bi-becks. Bad grawlies. Bad high people. Not go.”

Dar patted the excited ropma’s arm. “It’s all right, Dirt. I have a lot to do before I could go to the Northern Reach. Tell me about the dragons.”

“Bad. Everything bad. Dragons bad.” The ropma dug his fists into his eyes, grinding away the tears falling down his hairy face. His nose ran, and he swiped it with a scraggly arm. “Dragons bad. Eat Da’s sheep.”

“Are the dragons always bad?” Dar asked.

Dirt scrunched up his face, obviously thinking. After a moment, he struggled to put words to his thoughts. “Nice dragons bad. Not happy. Nice dragons not happy. Nice dragons bad.”

Dar nodded as if he fully understood the garbled words. “The dragons who used to be nice were happy. Now those dragons are not happy so they are bad, not nice. Right?”

Dirt’s eyes brightened, and he grinned. “Sir Dar nice man. Smart man.”

Dar patted him on the arm again. “You are a good ropma, Dirt. A good man. Go back to Ma and Da. Tell them Sir Dar is happy.”

Dirt made a noise in his throat that might have been a giggle and took off across the field.

In amazement, Kale watched him run. He sped across the grassy pasture and leapt a fence with the ease of a gazelle.

Bardon’s voice rumbled at her back. “Dar, you don’t look happy.”

“I’m not. Dirt has brought us very bad news.”

         
30
         

M
EECH
D
RAGONS

Kale drew in a sharp breath. How could Dirt with his limited vocabulary convey anything but the most basic information? What could be the bad news? “Dar, are you talking about the dragons turning bad? We already knew that.”

Dar shook his head. His ears laid back, a sure sign he was disturbed.

“We expected the dragons to become uncooperative as they fell under Risto’s influence. The bad news is that early on a cold morning, the colony of meech dragons was attacked and driven into the Northern Reach.

“There’s a colony of meech dragons?” Kale looked at Bardon to see her surprise mirrored on his face.

“There
was
a colony of meech in Wittoom. They secluded themselves in the Kattaboom Mountains. Occasionally, a member of a warm-blooded race was allowed in to quicken an egg. I believe that is how Risto got wind of Regidor, or rather the egg that was Regidor.”

“Explain,” said Bardon, his voice cool.

“A meech dragon sent out a request for someone to come quicken an egg. This would have been a message to a specific person, not a general announcement. But Risto heard of it, followed, or had the person followed.

“The doneel traveling to assist the meech died on his journey. Soon after, a battalion of bisonbecks descended on the colony. The fact that it was early in the morning aided the attackers. No dragon moves very quickly on a cold morning when woken from a deep sleep. During this raid, Risto acquired the meech egg. The entire cluster of dragons fled to the north.”

“And at this time,” said Bardon, “the second egg was also stolen?”

“Apparently. My people have not had contact with the meech dragons since they abandoned their homes and escaped. An envoy discovered the disaster on a routine diplomatic visit. Of course, he had no way of knowing two eggs were stolen.”

“How did he know one was stolen and where the dragons had gone?” asked Kale.

“There’s a tribe of mountain ropma in the same vicinity. He questioned them.”

Bardon rubbed his fingers across his chin. “I take it meech dragons are not warriors.”

Dar grimaced. “Totally useless in a fight.”

Kale’s mind went to her meech dragon friend. Regidor slumbered. Kale touched his dream of a table laden with rich foods and dismissed it. She turned to Dar. “So Regidor has parents in exile in the Northern Reach?”

“Yes,” Dar replied.

“Will we rescue them?”

“That’s a problem for another day.”

Bardon put his hand on the hilt of his sword and looked to the manor. “What did Librettowit find out from the Gransfords?”

“That many of the local farmers are having difficulties with their dragon comrades. That is, except the Honorable Mr. Gransford, who claims to have a superior ability to manipulate the dragons. That Mistress Gransford has an unpleasant desire to better herself at the expense of her neighbors. That the girls are empty-headed, vain creatures with no book learning whatsoever.
That
has disgusted our librarian more than the master-of-the-house’s pride and greed.”

Dar paused. “I suspect we have uncovered a member of Risto’s network to debilitate Amara’s economic structure.”

After a moment, he continued, “The dragons are an integral part of Amara’s commerce. Dragons carry messages and products. For centuries, dragons have worked willingly alongside the seven high races. A dragon’s nature requires it to develop a relationship with one person or one family. This bond nurtures their hearts. Without this connection to someone outside its species, a dragon will become depressed and waste away.”

Kale leaned against the rickety wooden shed, crossed her arms, and stared at the shining white globe in the almost black sky. “I wonder why Wulder did that? Wulder created the dragons, and He created a deep need in them to connect with the high races. He must have a purpose behind His design.”

Dar winked at her. “Wulder always has a purpose. But sometimes His way of doing things is so far beyond anything we can comprehend, we praise Him without complete knowledge. Then there are those things that seem harmful. For those, we must wait for an explanation. And until that day, we trust in His wisdom and goodness.”

Bardon spoke with a flat voice. “Wulder is always wise, always good.”

Dar looked at the young lehman with a furrowed forehead above his shaggy eyebrows. “Very few people are privileged to learn that in their hearts. We almost always learn it in our heads first, and then Wulder reveals it to our hearts.”

Kale turned on Dar. “There! You did it again. Only this time it was Bardon. You heard what he was thinking.”

Dar chortled. “No, Kale. I do not have the talent of mindspeaking.”

“But you knew Bardon was concerned, because he can say the principles of Wulder but doesn’t feel them.”

Dar shook his head slowly. “Kale, some thoughts are common to those who seek to follow Paladin. Each individual tends to think that his problems in understanding his role in life are unique. But no. Wulder has made us similar even in the places that cause us to stumble. For that reason, we are better equipped to help one another.”

Bardon picked up a stick and examined it. Kale watched him, flooded with the feelings that coursed through the proud young man’s heart. The onslaught came too quickly and with too much intensity for her to decipher.

Odd. He looks so detached. So cold. Yet these feelings are fierce. If they were my own, I’d be wailing.

At that moment, Bardon looked over at her. Their eyes met, and she read disapproval. Hadn’t she told him earlier that delving into another’s thoughts was rude? She turned away, unsure if the reprimand had come from Bardon or her own conscience.

She quoted Granny Noon,
My thoughts belong to me and Wulder.
She shook her head to disperse the confusion of Bardon’s feelings jumbling her mind and tried again.
My thoughts belong to me and Wulder.

Paladin had told her she could always talk to Wulder.
Wulder? Shouldn’t Bardon’s thoughts belong only to him and You? I don’t really want to be this closely entangled with his mind. What’s going on here?

“Discipline.” Dar’s voice broke through her musing.

Both Kale and Bardon studied the little doneel. Their eyes roamed over the shorter man’s earnest face and the way he had his fists shoved up against his waist above the hips.

“I see now why Paladin put you two together. You’re going to have to help each other.”

Kale saw Bardon’s jaw clench at the suggestion and almost laughed. However, the prospect of being called upon to help the lehman set her teeth on edge as well.

“Bardon, have you been reporting back to The Hall on Kale’s progress?”

“Yes, up until when we parted from Wizard Fenworth. I no longer have a means to communicate with Grand Ebeck.”

Kale bristled. She’d forgotten that Bardon was to keep an eye on her and tell of her development.

Dar continued. “And what was the prevalent theme of your reports?”

Bardon lifted his chin and looked straight at the doneel. “That she lacked…” He hesitated.

“Discipline,” Kale finished the sentence for him. “You told them I lacked discipline.”

She stomped her foot on the sparse grass and growled. “I have discipline. You can’t be a slave for years and not have discipline.”

“I agree,” said Dar. “However, that discipline was enforced by those in authority over you. Bardon is referring to discipline that comes from within.
That
you still need to develop. And there is none better to help you than Bardon.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared, first at the doneel and then at the lehman.

Dar grinned. “But to ease your displeasure at such an onerous endeavor, Kale, don’t you have something you feel you must bring to Lehman Bardon’s attention? An area where he needs instruction?”

She felt her mood lighten. She couldn’t help the smug smile that settled on her face. “Yes! Bardon has the gift of mindspeaking and doesn’t know how to use it or contain it.”

Dar cocked an eyebrow at the strong young man standing so straight in the moonlight. Bardon jerked a nod at the doneel.

Dar turned to Kale. “You remember Leetu Bends’s instructions?”

She nodded. “And Granny Noon’s.”

“Well, then,” said Dar. “I think this will be a fair exchange of ability.” He clapped his hands together in a gesture of satisfaction.

The diplomat turned to the lehman. “Bardon, you will be surprised at how much self-discipline Kale has developed in managing her talent for mindspeaking.” He smiled at Kale. “Kale, you will benefit from applying that discipline to other areas as Bardon reveals to you how that can be accomplished.”

He took a deep breath of the cool night air. “Now, let us return to our beds. Tomorrow, we have a long journey to Prushing. And then our adventure really begins.”