Dragons of the Watch (33 page)

Bealomondore sought out the places he usually avoided, places he knew often attracted the gangs. In each case, he didn’t find Porky. At the third spot commonly used as a playground, he noticed something else besides the absence of the missing child. Fewer hooligans than usual gathered in their rough bands.

In all, he guessed half of the children were missing. He stopped to scrutinize this small collection of the mob. They played, but no one seemed enthusiastic about the games. No fights broke out. Commonly, losers attacked the winners, or winners drove home their victory by bludgeoning the losers.

He shook his head at the memory of one conflict he’d observed. Two children rolled on the ground, each with a death grip on the other. Ellie hadn’t witnessed this type of vicious attack and therefore didn’t realize the immensity of the task she’d taken on. Since the children had become increasingly uncivilized over a century or more, a few daggarts and some etiquette lessons were not going to change them overnight.

Another thought occurred to him. These children left behind were the more placid of the horde. He wouldn’t call them gentle by any means, but they were not the instigators of cruel mischief.

Had someone taken the more unruly six-year-olds?

Had the wizard come out of hiding and snatched them up?

Had he loosed the wusstbunters on them?

More than likely, the wizard had nothing to do with this. After all these years of detachment, why would he return?

Had the worst of the bad children forged an alliance to plan an attack?

What terror could these permanently six-year-old hooligans conceive?

Whatever it was, it would be outrageous, reckless, and bound to cause destruction to property and probably people. Ellie would not like that. She would want him to stop it if at all possible. He sighed.

Now he wanted to find Porky
and
the missing children. On the battlefield he’d learned that a smart soldier knew where the enemies were and what they were up to. He’d had Det to help him, and between them, they’d saved their unit more than once. He couldn’t depend on Det at the moment since he was off doing the rounds of the watch. Bealomondore didn’t think he had time for the dragon to rejoin him.

He didn’t know where the brats were lurking.

He didn’t know the extent of the danger Porky had fallen into.

He could use some basic knowledge of the territory he sought to invade.

He could use reinforcements.

He wanted clear direction.

And now, he wanted his sword.

A rustle of wings announced a minor dragon’s approach. Amee dived from above the empty shops and businesses, coming straight at Bealomondore. Her black and white scales blurred into gray. Whatever her mission, it was urgent.

Bealomondore glanced at the children playing and noted that they seemed unaware of Amee’s approach. He ducked into an empty building, out of sight, and waited for the minor dragon to join him.

As soon as she landed, Bealomondore’s mind filled with her chatter and flashing pictures. Porky had been caught by the bullies. They wanted to know where Ellie and Bealomondore would meet Porky, Soo-tie, and Cinder. So far, Porky had not told. Amee showed Bealomondore the location of the dismal building Yawn had chosen as a jail.

The temptation to go get his sword wiled its way through Bealomondore’s thinking. But Ellie would have a fit, and truthfully, the prospect of inadvertently hurting one of the children turned his stomach.

Once she’d delivered her message, Amee waited patiently for him to decide his course of action. He pondered only a moment more.

“Gather the rest of the watch. I’ll go see what I can do immediately about Porky’s sticky situation. Bring Laddin, too, when you come. I predict it will be impossible, but try to keep Ellie out of this. She should guard Cinder and Soo-tie.”

Amee flew off toward the outer city, and Bealomondore began a stealthy advance on the nasty group of bullies who tortured Porky. The outside of the store they’d chosen as their hideout matched the pristine architecture of Rumbard City grandeur. The furniture emporium fit in well with the other city shops in the area.

When he’d first explored Rumbard City, Bealomondore had peeked inside this establishment. By the signs of rampant destruction, he’d surmised that the horde of children had used the inside for wild games. They’d broken most of the furnishings, pulled cushions off chairs and sofas. Mattresses had been dragged hither and yon and used as walls of fortresses. Sheets, blankets, and anything else they could find draped over banisters and tables. They resembled untidy tents.

Now he entered the premises with caution. The state of the showroom hadn’t changed. Crude constructions blocked a straightforward view to the back of the store, where a great commotion was taking place. He used his ears instead of his eyes to locate his target. As he listened to the rowdy boys, he wished again that he had his sword.

Bealomondore edged through the obstacles. A clutch of boys shouted at Porky and at each other. He knew he was close and crept carefully to avoid being detected. Straining to hear Porky’s part in the drama, he could not distinguish his childish voice. Then he heard a thud and a grunt and the cruel laughter of a bully. Without thought, he jumped from behind the counter with his hand up in the air.

“Stop!” he commanded.

And he realized that his hand was not empty. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of the Sword of Valor. The brats circling Porky on the floor turned startled faces to the tumanhofer. He grinned and swished the rapier through the air. In the form of a long, slender blade, it made a wicked sound.

Bealomondore glared confidently. He wanted the boys to think he was in control and not in the least bit flummoxed by being outnumbered. The state of his sword bothered him as well. This blade was designed to pierce the chest and stab the heart. He’d rather have the blunt, broad blade suitable for paddling. But Bealomondore advanced, swishing his weapon, which had never appeared out of nowhere before, and grinning like a madman.

The boys backed up a step or two, all but Yawn.

Bealomondore stopped and regarded the six-year-old, whose thrust-out chin displayed his defiant attitude.

Bealomondore sneered. “Do I take you on one at a time or all at once?”

The scalawags who’d stepped back deserted their leader with hoots of fear and scrambling feet. Yawn glanced to both sides and saw that he was alone save the poor beaten boy curled on the floor. He licked his lips, clenched his fists, and tried to stare Bealomondore in the eye.

“You can go,” said the tumanhofer. “There’s no shame in walking away from a fight that makes no sense.”

Yawn puffed out his chest, lifted his chin, and glared at Bealomondore. “This isn’t the end of this.” He turned and marched out, following the route of his mates.

Bealomondore looked at the hilt of the shining sword. Among the gems along the guard, words etched an axiom: “Show them strength, and you may not need to show them your prowess.” He wasn’t surprised to find the sword’s scabbard attached to his belt. He put the long blade into the leather case and pushed it all the way in. Then he knelt next to Porky. The boy rolled toward him, and he took the shuddering child in his arms.

Porky let out one sob. “I didn’t tell them where you were.” He had to gasp for breath. “And I didn’t cry.”

Tears threatened to disgrace Bealomondore. He leaned his cheek against the boy’s head and held him closer. “We’ll take care of you, Porky. Laddin will be here soon, and he’ll make you feel better. Where does it hurt the most?”

“My eye.”

Bealomondore looked at the battered flesh on Porky’s face. The left eye had swollen shut, and discoloration showed how severe the bruising would be. “It’ll be fine. Laddin will fix it.”

“My belly hurts too. Yawn kicked me.”

Bealomondore bit back the fury that rose like a crashing ocean wave. Fortunate for the bullies that they had already fled. Bealomondore put his hand on the urohm boy’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, Porky. I wish I’d gotten here sooner.”

“I hurt so bad. Am I gonna die?”

“No, no. Laddin will heal you. After a good night’s sleep, you’ll be fine. Tomorrow you won’t feel any different than you did yesterday.”

“Then I’ll be scared. ’Cause yesterday I was scared.”

“Scared of Yawn and his gang?”

Porky grunted and Bealomondore took it as a yes. He mumbled and Bealomondore leaned closer. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I used to be scared of dying, but now I’m not.” Porky moved cautiously, as if to get into a more comfortable position. He groaned and grimaced. “I’m more scared of Yawn than dying.”

“We’ll take you in at the library. You’ll be safe there.”

A tear rolled down Porky’s cheek. “Great. Old One will kill me instead of Yawn.”

“Old One is grouchy, not murderous.”

The child shuddered. Two ragged breaths preceded his next question. “Do you have to ask your mother if I can come?”

Bealomondore wished he could see the boy’s face. What did he mean? “My mother isn’t here.”

“Isn’t Ellicinderpart your mom?”

“No, she’s much too young to be my mother.”

“But if you’re the father, then she’s the mother.”

“We’re not—”

“Do you have children in the library? Do you have babies? I’ve never seen a baby.”

Bealomondore’s thoughts zigzagged among several paths. How could he answer this? Of course he didn’t have babies, children! Babies? The sound of the word urged him to stand and back away, but he maintained his position.

He’d seen babies but never held one. What did Porky need out of this conversation? What was the child searching for?

He took a stab at answering the big lump of a miserable child overflowing his lap. “I’m not really familiar with any babies, so I only know general things. Babies are cute when they’re not crying. I think they cry a lot. They smell funny. Women seem to like them, and fathers seem to like their own, but … well, men often don’t pay attention to babies much.”

Porky didn’t answer.

“Are you all right?” asked Bealomondore.

He heard a muffled, “Yeah.”

Bealomondore chastised himself for the absurd question. Porky was not all right. Now he seemed drowsy, and that was not a good sign.

Bealomondore reached with his mind, trying to make connection with either Ellie or one of the dragons. To his relief, Laddin answered. He was close.

Bealomondore sighed. “It’s all right, Porky. Laddin is just a few blocks away.”

He hugged the boy a little closer and patted his arm. Porky didn’t respond.

“Porky?”

Nothing.

Bealomondore eased the boy out of his arms, allowing his shoulders and head to rest against the floor. Blood trickled out of the urohm’s ear. The bruising around the eye looked horrid compared to unnaturally pale skin.

“Porky, can you hear me?”

No answer.

Laddin swooped in and landed on Porky. Bealomondore recognized the minor dragon’s concern as he examined his patient. The scene reminded him of the many times he’d seen Laddin aid soldiers on the battlefield. Bealomondore had witnessed the small dragon work in a frenzy to bring back a young man from the brink of death. Most of the time he succeeded. Most.

The other minor dragons except Orli, who guarded Old One, soon arrived and took up positions around the furniture store. Amee reported her conversation with Ellie. His tumanhofer lass would stay put until the two urohms in her charge woke up. Then she would come to Porky and Bealomondore. Amee had not revealed how badly Yawn and his bullies had hurt Porky. Bealomondore had no doubt that if Ellie knew, she’d have been here even before the dragons of the watch.

Laddin summoned Kriss, Maree, and Amee to help with a healing circle. Bealomondore joined them with a directive to Det and Soosahn to keep a sharp lookout for the ruffians. He entered the circle between Porky and Kriss. The feeble strand that represented Porky in the flow of energy shocked the tumanhofer. A few more minutes and Laddin wouldn’t have been able to do anything for the boy.