DragonLight Page 18

  “Most assuredly, that is not a bad thing,” said Gilda.

  Kale gave Gilda a sympathetic look. “You’ve been depressed too.”

  “I’m with child and tired. Also, the delay in accomplishing our quest is a wretched situation to deal with day after day. I wish Regidor and I had undertaken this journey alone.”

  “We would not have traveled any faster, my dear.” Regidor soothed his wife.

  Annoyance flashed across her face, but she did not speak.

  Kale and Regidor lifted their faces to the southern sky at the same time.

  “Lee Ark is about to join us,” announced Regidor. He stood and moved toward the field where the large riding dragons rested.

  “He’s troubled,” said Kale.

  “Is he hurt?” asked Toopka.

  Kale frowned and searched the shadows by the tent until she spotted her ward. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

  “I’m not tired, and Sittiponder won’t talk to me.”

  Regidor lifted her to sit on his shoulder and strode toward the meadow. “No, little one. Lee Ark is weary of soul. Perhaps your fuzzy, funny face will chase away his gloom. Let’s go greet him.”

  25

  ONE MORE TO QUEST

  “I’ve hidden my family and sent my troops into the hills to stand ready to fight.” Lee Ark strode up the hill, accompanied by Sir Dar, Kale, Bardon, and Regidor with Toopka on his shoulders.

  “I almost missed you in this rugged terrain.” He gestured to the rock outcroppings and a steep cliff. “My mount sensed the presence of your dragons and guided me here.” He continued up the hill without any indication that the strenuous exercise taxed his muscled body. “You know these Followers don’t like dragons. More proof of their misguided theology. Is there anything left from your dinner?” asked the marione general. “I’m starved.”

  “Enough for one serving,” answered Sir Dar, puffing a bit from the effort to keep up. “But I’ll throw some more biscuits in a pan, and that should fill you up.”

  “Ah! Sir Dar’s biscuits baked over a campfire. That’s worth traveling a thousand miles.”

  “General Lee Ark, I admit you’re pushing my curiosity to the limits,” said Bardon. “Why are you here? What compelled you to come so far?”

  “I’m fleeing the country.”

  “What?” Kale exploded.

  “Yes, I’m a criminal.”

  Kale let go of Bardon’s arm and rounded on Lee Ark. She grabbed the material of his jacket sleeve and stopped him. “Why?”

  He shrugged, the pleasant expression on his face never slipping. “Let’s see if I can remember it all. Ignoring orders, redirecting delivery of goods requisitioned by the government, arresting an elected dignitary and thus detaining him long enough to miss an important meeting, releasing prisoners destined for the docks to be shipped to penal colonies, and a couple other charges that made absolutely no sense to me. The charges I just listed, I remember doing. There’s five or six more that they must have added on for good measure.”

  Regidor shifted Toopka’s position on his neck. “Sounds like you’ve been quite busy, General. In all that hustle and bustle, it could be that a few minor felonies slipped your mind.”

  “This has got to be explained,” protested Sir Dar.

  Lee Ark grimaced. “Before or after the biscuits?”

  “During the cooking of the biscuits. And they won’t be served until I’ve heard the tale.”

  “And,” said Toopka, “he won’t give you the butter and jam if he thinks you’re telling fibs. He does that to me all the time.”

  “All the time?” Regidor tickled her leg. “I thought you rarely saw Sir Dar.”

  “I should say every time, then, shouldn’t I?” replied the girl in her sauciest tone. “Because I mostly spend all my time with Kale and Bardon. But every time I see Sir Dar, he makes biscuits or something else wonderfully delicious, and every time he says I’m not telling the whole truth, and then…” Toopka gave a dramatic sigh. “I don’t get the jam.”

  “Heartless,” said Regidor with a sad wag of his head. “Sir Dar, you’re heartless, and I never suspected.”

  “Toopka is a rare artist in the utterance of partial truth and exaggeration. I certainly have not cooked for her every time I’ve seen her. As one of her guardians, I am only doing my duty in my attempts to break her of these deplorable habits.”

  Kale still clutched the material of the marione’s uniform. She shook the sleeve, and thus his arm, emphatically. “Lee Ark, tell us! Why were you disobeying orders?”

  “And committing crimes against the state?” asked Regidor.

  The general pried Kale’s fingers off his coat. “Because the orders I received obviously did not come from Paladin.”

  “How could you tell?” asked Toopka.

  “The directives I received were contrary to Wulder’s principles, little one. Anyone who has read Wulder’s Tomes would see the little red flags popping out of the words on the document.”

  Toopka gasped. “Was it wizard’s magic?”

  “No, just common sense,” answered Lee Ark.

  Regidor jostled Toopka as if to throw her off. “She means the flags coming out of the paper.”

  “They weren’t real flags,” Lee Ark explained patiently. “They were tiny details that never would have been approved by Wulder, and, therefore, it is unlikely Paladin penned the orders.”

  “Is Paladin ill again?” asked Kale.

  “No, from what I hear, he’s as strong as ever and pacing his cell like a caged lion.”

  “Cell?” Sir Dar glared at Lee Ark. The word echoed off a rock wall in the canyon. “Here’s something we know nothing about. Why would our leader be in a cell?”

  Regidor raised one of Toopka’s legs and pointed it at Lee Ark. “Perhaps Paladin objected to people sending out orders under his name?”

  “And those bad people,” Toopka exclaimed, bouncing on Regidor’s shoulders, “got mad at Paladin for objecting and put him in a cell where they wouldn’t have to listen to him.”

  “Yes,” said Lee Ark, “and his own council has been seduced by the Followers.”

  “Hey, I haven’t been seduced,” said Bardon. “I’m on that council.”

  “No, you’re not,” countered the general. “You’re on a quest.”

  Bardon’s hand went to the hilt of his sword. “I can return quickly enough if Kale will find me a gateway. Regidor, shall we go rescue Paladin?”

  Lee Ark stopped. “Hold on. That’s not among the orders I have for you.”

  “You have orders for me? From Paladin? How can you be sure?”

  “I sent a kimen into Paladin’s palace. He spoke to Paladin.”

  “And what are my orders?”

  “Find the meech colony. Find out about this sleeping monster. Find out about the black dragon swarms. And…”

  “And?”

  “Watch your back.” Lee Ark’s voice had lost the bantering tone he so often used.

  “Is there any reason in particular that I should be watching my back?”

  “Yes. The Followers want your property. And they now boldly imprison those who stand in their way.”

  “Impossible!” cried Sir Dar.

  “My mother and father?” Kale tried to suppress the quiver in her voice, but Bardon detected it, along with the rush of fear surging through her body.

  “Safe, but not in hiding,” answered Lee Ark. “In fact, many people are taking refuge in wizard castles. In the case of your extraordinary abode, there is little the Followers can do to get past so many dragons and two powerful wizards.”

  The creases in Kale’s frown deepened. “Bardon, perhaps we should go home.”

  “No.” Bardon put his arms around his wife. “Paladin obviously has a plan for us in the Northern Reach. Your mother and father are more than capable of handling everything that happens. Wulder has equipped them well.”

  “I’m going to leave them a message.” She broke from his embrace and
went to their tent.

  Bardon listened for a few more minutes as Lee Ark gave more details of the insurgents’ gains. Then he joined Kale. He heard the annoying pop as the gateway became operational.

  “Any messages?” he asked.

  “One from Namee. I haven’t listened to it yet.”

  The talking gateway creaked and snapped.

  Bardon bent at the waist to look over Kale’s shoulder. “Anything wrong?”

  “I don’t think so. There. Now we’ve caught the message. It was a slippery one.”

  “Hello, Kale.” Wizard Namee looked tired but cheerful. “Such a lot happening in our country. I wanted you to know that your friend Holt ended up in a village called Paladise quite near my castle. Seezle is bringing reports to me, and I have one from Holt especially for you.” He picked up a paper from his cluttered desk. “I wrote it down just as Seezle quoted it to me. I think there might be some kind of code involved.” He put glasses on. “‘Dearest Kale, whatever have I done to deserve being banished to a village where the women are not allowed to smile? Yours truly, Holt Hoddack.’” He lowered the paper and peered over his glasses. “That’s all for now. Be careful, my friend.”

  Bardon straightened and stretched. “So, do you think Holt put a code in that message?”

  Kale burst into laughter. “What do you think?”

  “Nope.” He grinned. “But I do believe that he thinks he’s being punished.”

  “Guilty conscience,” said Kale. “Now I’m going to leave one for Father and Mother. What should I say?”

  “Tell them everything is fine, so far. Ask your father if he’s been attacked by the black dragons.”

  “Now, that would prove that everything is not fine. I’d have to tell him I’d been attacked. Twice.”

  “Then warn him to be careful because you’ve been attacked twice by the black dragons.”

  “Then he’ll worry.”

  “I bet he doesn’t worry much. Your mother might.”

  “You’re right. He’d say I’m perfectly capable of handling a few temperamental dragons.”

  Bardon kissed the top of her head. “And so you are.”

  26

  MYSTERIOUS TOOPKA

  “Why do we have to walk?” asked Toopka. She kicked the small pebbles in the country road. Grubby stunted plants grew sporadically over the land on either side.

  “Pick up your feet.” Kale took Toopka’s hand. “You’re stirring up dust and getting our clothes dirty.”

  The questing party walked in a loose group. No one, except Toopka, talked much as they traversed the several miles to Arreach. Mikkai assured them that the place existed, a large village, or perhaps a small town, dedicated to the comforts of travelers along the east-west trade route.

  Toopka quit scuffling. “All right, but it’s not much fun to just walk. Why can’t we fly?”

  “Because people in this region aren’t accustomed to seeing dragons.”

  Toopka shielded her eyes with her hand and gazed over the scene of rocks, scrub brush, and patches of trees. “What people?”

  “Herders live out on these plains, but I was referring to the townspeople. Dragons are scarce here.”

  “Then we should let them see our dragons. Why aren’t we sharing? They could see Greer and Merlander and Celisse and Foremoore. Even Regidor and Gilda ride dragons.” She paused, tilting her head. “Why do Regidor and Gilda ride dragons?”

  “Regidor explained this to you before.”

  “When?”

  “Years ago.”

  “Oh! Well, no wonder I don’t remember. I was just a baby then.”

  Kale sighed and wiped sweat from her forehead and neck with a handkerchief that had been clean an hour ago. She stuffed the mucky cloth in a hollow and pulled out another.

  “Kale?” Toopka tugged on her cape.

  “Oh.” She refocused on her ward. “As far as I know, you have never been a little baby. You have always been a child. And as far as I know, you may always be a child.”

  A breeze flitted by, cooling them and also stirring up tiny dust devils. A hawk called as he tilted his wings in the pale blue sky.

  Toopka skipped beside Kale, unconcerned by her guardian’s cryptic words. “Why don’t Regidor and Gilda fly?”

  “Because it would be like you running all day long without ever stopping. Flying all day would wear them out.”

  “It doesn’t wear Greer out when he flies all day.”

  “Yes, it does. Just ask him. He’ll tell you Bardon gains a hundred pounds during the day. He says that he earns his sleep, a big dinner, and a good scale buffing.”

  “I can’t ask him because he won’t mindspeak to me. But he lets me polish his scales.”

  Kale stopped to fasten the front of her cape.

  Toopka stuck out her lower lip. “I wish I had a moonbeam cape. Then I would never be too hot or too cold.”

  “Moonbeam plants are rare, and the cape doesn’t really work like that. My hands and face and feet can get very hot or very cold.”

  They entered a section of the lane where trees on both sides provided shade.

  “If I rode in a pocket like the little dragons, I’d be comfortable.”

  “Why don’t you run up to where Brunstetter is? He can carry you on his other shoulder, and Sittiponder will talk to you.”

  “No, he won’t.” Toopka’s lower lip stuck out further in an exaggerated pout.

  “Why not? Have you been aggravating him?”

  “He’s been aggravating me. He keeps saying I need to get ready to ‘bear the life that defeats the foe.’”

  Kale raised her eyebrows. “Where did he get that?”

  “You know, from the voices.”

  A stronger gust of wind blew about them. Kale squinted against the grit propelled by the air.

  “Yuck!” Toopka spit and sputtered. “I’ve got to learn to keep my mouth shut.”

  Kale refrained from making a snide remark. Sometimes the opportunities to tease her furry ward were almost too tempting. Then she remembered how hard it had been to be raised as the village slave, an orphan among strangers.

  She put a soft hand on the doneel’s head. “Toopka, are you worried about what Sittiponder said? That night at the campfire, he said you were in danger.”

  Toopka dodged out from under Kale’s touch and ran over to the edge of the path to closely inspect a cluster of wild yellow dropsies. The stalks stood up straight, but the blossoms leaned over in a cascade of tiny flowerets, looking as though they were about to fall to the ground.

  The doneel sniffed the flowers and hummed her appreciation of the sweet fragrance before she answered Kale. “He can be kind of a worrywart.”

  “I know, and I thought he might be trying to scare you the littlest bit to make you more cautious.” Kale glanced behind at Sir Dar to see if he listened. She could see he took in every word. His ears perked forward, and his eyes never left Toopka.

  “I know when to be careful.” With stubby fingers, she put a bright flower behind each ear and rejoined Kale in their walk.

  “Toopka, I’ve seen you jump into more than one fight with our foes.”

  “Only because I am little, and they don’t even see me most of the time.” She pulled an imaginary sword. “I can run in, poke ’em, and run out before they even know I’m there.”

  “Well, you run up to Brunstetter and ride with him for a while. I don’t want you to be too tired to enjoy yourself when we get to the village.”

  Toopka scurried away. When she reached Brunstetter, she tugged on his pant leg just above his boot. He plucked her from the road and placed her on his shoulder.

  “Sir Dar?”

  The doneel quickened his pace to come up beside her. “I heard.”

  “What do you think? As her guardians, should we be worried?”

  “Don’t know that worry ever helped a situation. We can be watchful. But if our little Toopka is going to bear a life, she is going to have to mature a great deal.”r />
  “I don’t think she even realized that expression means to be pregnant.”

  “Probably not.” Sir Dar squinted against the sun as they walked out of the pleasant shade. “I made inquiries about her.”

  “You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t find out enough to tell. She was seen around the market for a few months before you found her. No one knew where she had come from before that.”

  “She said she’d been in the market for years.”

  “That’s her standard answer. How long have you been living with Kale? For years. How long have you known how to make tea? For years. How long did you know Sittiponder when you lived on the streets of Vendela? For years.”

  Kale chuckled. “I do recognize that question and answer pattern. Is there anything else you can tell me that you’ve noticed about Toopka?”

  “Oh yes.”

  Kale looked at him closely when he didn’t say anything further. She thought she recognized a lurking twinkle in his eye, but she asked anyway. “What have you noticed?”

  “She has atrocious fashion sense for a doneel.”

  Kale looked at Toopka’s pink polka-dot blouse, flowered skirt, and striped bloomers and agreed. “But I’ve never lost her in a crowd.”

  Kale watched the little girl bury her fingers in Brunstetter’s hair and hold on. She could be affectionate, and she could be very obtuse. “Do you think she feigns her poor memory?”

  “Her memories do seem to be sporadic. She may conveniently forget unpleasant things.”

  “Some time ago, I overheard her telling a servant about a pink castle she had been to. Are there any pink castles in Amara?”

  Dar shook his head. “But I’ve heard of an entire city on the Southern Continent made out of pink stone.”

  “She’s traveled abroad?”

  “Or heard stories.”

  “Where?”

  “The marketplace at Vendela. Calm down, Kale. Toopka is just Toopka. A little odd, a little unpredictable, and a little pest. Don’t let your imagination run away with you.”

  Kale gestured toward the blind tumanhofer child. “What about the things Sittiponder said?”

  “Another child with an active imagination.”