Dragons of the Watch Page 2

  In the mirror, a sophisticated young lady had laughed at the sight of herself, a farm girl dressed in such finery. In the pale yellow dress, Ellie felt like a delicate flower. In the soft azure gown, she could have floated up into the sky and drifted among the clouds.

  Aunt Tiffenbeth patted Ellie’s knee and pointed out the opposite window. “There’s the road we take to go to your home. I bet you don’t travel that road often.”

  “Not at all. We take the path to Glenbrooken Village on the other side of the mountain.”

  “This road is closer for us and is wide enough for the carriage.” Her aunt frowned and pointed. “Isn’t that your goat?”

  On one of the cliffs, a white goat stood straight and tall against the blue sky.

  “Tak!”

  Ellicinderpart’s shout brought her uncle out of his book.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His wife answered before Ellicinderpart had a chance. “Her goat is up on that ridge. What is he doing there?”

  Uncle Stemikenjon leaned forward to look out the window. “It’s not so far from their house.”

  Aunt Tiffenbeth whipped around to face Ellie. “Do you come this way when you take the goats to pasture?”

  “Never. The path to this side of the mountain crosses Crooked Gorge. You have to walk all the way down and then climb all the way up the other side. Very few plants grow in the gorge, so the herd doesn’t feed well.”

  Uncle Stemikenjon glowered out the window. “Who took over your job as goatherd?”

  “Gustustharinback.”

  “Would he be foolish enough to cross Crooked Gorge?”

  “I think he’s foolish enough,” answered Ellicinderpart, “but too lazy.”

  Aunt Tiffenbeth took a turn leaning forward to improve her view of the rough hillside. “Stemikenjon, you must have the driver stop. Ellicinderpart must do something about Tak.”

  “Nonsense!” her husband blustered. “The goat got here on his own, and he can very well find his way back.”

  “But this goat is special, like my Niffy. You know how distressed I would be if dear Niffy were in danger.”

  “Indeed I do. You treat that cat as if she were worth something, and I tell you, she’s not.”

  Ellie smiled as her aunt and uncle bickered over her aunt’s spoiled feline. Ellie had met the cat when the family journeyed all the way to the relatives’ house for a feast day. Niffy, looking fluffy and elegant, had never shown any friendliness to her family, and the family had no opinion of the cat. But Aunt Tiffenbeth made a great deal over the pleasure and companionship the cat bestowed upon her. Ellie didn’t feel a “great love and admiration” for her goat as Aunt Tiffenbeth felt for her cat, but she didn’t want anything to happen to Tak either.

  “Silly goat,” she muttered. The last thing she wanted was to interrupt her trip before it had barely begun to take care of a goat that should be at home, or at least in the pasture near home, with Gustustharinback.

  Uncle Stemikenjon used his cane to bang on the front of the carriage above Ellie’s head. The driver hollered, “Slow!” in a loud and long, stretched-out way. The coach lost speed and came to a stop.

  “Oh no!” Ellie looked frantically from her aunt to her uncle. “What are we going to do?”

  “You,” said her uncle as he opened the door, “are going to see to the goat. Take Tak home.”

  Ellie felt all the joy drain from her, leaving a sad, hollow shell that wanted to wail. She was much too old, of course, to disgrace herself with sobs and rivers of tears.

  “No, no,” said Aunt Tiffenbeth. “Home is too far from here. You would never catch up. Take Tak to the Hopperbattyhold family, and pay one of those boys to return your goat to the farm.”

  Ellicinderpart relaxed a little. Taking the goat to the Hopperbattyhold home would only take a little time. She could get there and back in under an hour if she scampered.

  “I don’t have any money,” she said.

  Aunt Tiffenbeth dug deep into the folds of her elaborate skirt, where a pocket held her cloth coin purse. She opened it and reached through the narrow neck with two fingers, pinched a coin, and brought it out. “There.” She placed the copper piece in Ellie’s hand and took a moment to carefully return her money to its hiding place.

  Uncle Stemikenjon had already descended from the coach and stood on the road, waiting to hand Ellie down. Ellicinderpart placed her small hand on his broad fingers to steady herself and jumped.

  “Will you wait for me here?” she asked. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

  “No need to wait.” His gruff voice raked across her resolve not to cry. “After you leave the goat at the Hopperbattyholds’, continue around Nose Point and down the hill. You should reach this road again just about the time we’ve traveled the long way around. We’ll pick you up at the crossroads near Pence.”

  “Look at the clouds, Stemikenjon,” said Aunt Tiffenbeth. “She should take a cloak in case it rains.”

  “Right.” Uncle Stemikenjon shouted to the coachman. “Toss down the blue carpetbag.”

  The servant loosened the ropes, slipped out the needed luggage, and hoisted it in the air.

  “This one, Master Blamenyellomont?”

  “Aye.”

  Half of Ellicinderpart’s new clothes came over the edge of the rooftop in a small valise made of heavy cloth. Uncle Stemikenjon caught it and handed it to Ellie.

  “Get your cloak out, dear,” said her aunt. “Oh, and you’d better take a change of clothing in case you get rained on.”

  Ellicinderpart opened the bag and pulled out her cloak. The clouds in the distance did look ominous, black and brewing. She gladly put the beautiful brown and black patterned wool around her.

  A chill wind swirled up from their feet, and road dust pelted her face. She put a protective arm over her eyes. When the little tempest had passed, she looked up the stony hillside at Tak. He shifted his feet and kept an eye on her. She got the impression that the goat waited impatiently.

  “Oh my,” said Aunt Tiffenbeth as she struggled to close the window, pulling on the thick, opaque waxed paper that provided shelter. “Perhaps you won’t make it to the other side of the mountain before the storm hits.”

  Uncle Stemikenjon leaned over, snapped the carpetbag closed, and handed it to Ellie. “Take the whole thing. If you can’t make it to the crossroads, spend the night with either the Hopperbattyholds or the Dabryhinckses. Tiffenbeth, give her a few more coins to give the neighbors for their trouble.”

  Her aunt obediently dug through the abundant material of her skirt to find the cloth pouch.

  “Ellicinderpart,” said her uncle, “if you were a young flibbertigibbet, I’d be worried. But you have a sensible head on your shoulders. If you get lost, follow us to the capital as best you can. Once on the main highway, you will be able to stay in reputable taverns, and you can probably find a ride.”

  Aunt Tiffenbeth stretched her hand out to deposit a few more coins in Ellie’s palm. “Keep those safe, dear. The clothes in that bag are for everyday. The better gowns will stay with us.” She sighed, carefully depositing the purse back in the deep pocket. “We would wait while you take care of this little chore, but we are to meet up with my sister and her family in Bellsawyer day after tomorrow. Maybe we can wait for you there.” She turned to her husband. “Stemikenjon, why don’t we wait for Ellicinderpart in Bellsawyer?”

  “We can wait an extra day there, but if we tarry too long, we’ll lose our accommodations in Ragar. Better give the child more money for meals and lodging. And a tad more for emergencies.”

  Ellie’s mind skittered over the words—emergencies, reputable taverns, Bellsawyer. The possibility of actually getting to Ragar to see the coronation and join in the festivities for the royal wedding flew into the bank of threatening clouds that approached from the west.

  “Give her a handkerchief to tie up the coins, Stemikenjon. And young lady, you put the little bundle where no one will suspect you have it. Take the
money out when no one is looking, and put just the amount you will need in your pocket.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Ellie watched as her aunt once more went through the time-consuming process of finding the pouch, pulling it out of the complicated skirt, pursuing a few coins that rattled at the bottom, and bestowing them upon her with great solemnity. The procedure took too long and tested Ellicinderpart’s patience. But how could she utter, “Please hurry,” between clenched teeth to her generous aunt and uncle?

  A second paper window shield snapped into place as Aunt Tiffenbeth returned to shutting out the elements.

  Uncle Stemikenjon patted Ellie on the shoulder before returning to the cozy interior of the carriage.

  “Hurry along,” he said as he climbed in. “Take care of that goat and join us, either at the crossroads or in Bellsawyer if you’re a day behind us. If you fall farther behind, you can find us at the Strolling Minstrel in Ragar.”

  Ellie answered, “Yes sir,” just as the door slammed shut.

  The coachman leaned over the edge of the roof with a concerned look on his face. He tipped his hat to her and clambered over the luggage to regain his perch above the horses. He hollered, “Go on,” and flicked the reins. Ellie jumped back as the huge wheels turned beside her.

  She watched the coach for only a moment, then turned her gaze to Tak. The silly goat pranced as if delighted she’d been left behind.

  Ellie lifted her skirts to avoid the brambly bushes and trudged upward on a hill with more rocks than grass. She didn’t want to get her new dress dirty or torn, and she had on soft leather boots that shaped attractively around her ankle. Not only that, she had real stockings on. The fine knit of the hosiery itched, but her legs looked very pretty.

  Her cloak caught on a branch. “Oh! I’m going to ruin my beautiful clothes.” She cast an angry scowl at the goat, but Tak looked away. The cold had deepened, and her stiff fingers fumbled with the fabric clinging to a row of thorns. The material came away, and she examined her fine cloak for any damage.

  “Yer a very, very lucky goat, Tak. If’n I’d found a tear, you would notta been shown to a nice warm barn.”

  Ellie heard the country accent in her words and repeated them as she clambered over a rocky patch. “You’re a very lucky goat. If I’d found a tear, you might not have been escorted to a nice warm barn.” She smiled. She could talk right when she needed to. That was due to her ma.

  Tak scampered toward her when she reached the ridge, then abruptly changed directions and trotted away.

  “Oh, no you don’t, Tak. I’m not in the mood for playing catch-me.”

  Cold, damp wind whipped her cloak aside. She shivered and put down the carpetbag to button against the chill. The valise fit under the ample width of her new cape.

  Holding the precious valise of clothing, Ellie looked for Tak. He’d disappeared.

  “Tak!”

  She heard his bleat and hurried toward an outcropping of rock. Tak stood in a patch of green grass, plucking the blades and chewing. Huffing and puffing, she crossed the level ground and sat on a boulder close to the goat.

  First she made sure her cloak protected her new dress, then she looked out across the landscape, getting her bearings. The road her aunt and uncle were traveling wound between hills. In some places, she could see the brown ribbon, and in others, woods or hills blocked her view.

  After she caught her breath, she’d take Tak down this mound and into the valley she could see just to the south. The distance to the Hopperbattyholds’ didn’t amount to much. And they’d be going downhill.

  The clouds darkened the land to the west, but something caught the light in the hills across the vale. The sun still shining in the east sent shafts of light through clouds not yet amassed for the storm. For her to see it from this distance, the object must be the size of a house. The glint of reflection winked on and off as the sky collected billows of thick vapor.

  A clap of thunder punctuated the last glimmer. Tak raised his raucous voice in protest. Her goat hated rain, hated rain with a will. Tak bolted down the mountainside. Ellie grabbed her carpetbag and scrambled after him.

  Ellie muttered as she followed the goat. She’d been left on her own with a mixed-up set of directions. “If this happens, do this. If that happens, do such and such.” She knew her aunt and uncle held her in affection and wanted to do something nice for her, but Ellicinderpart realized that it was up to her not to be a bother. She must not cause an inconvenience. Well, she hadn’t. Tak had.

  The air thickened with a fine, cold mist. Tak hated to get wet. “Serves him right. What is he doing so far from home?” She called to the goat rushing down the mountainside. “I bet Gustus is scrambling over the hills trying to find you, Tak. Da will be mad as a pig in a crate when he finds out Gustustharinback let you wander off.”

  Tak bleated a grumpy retort and continued dashing down the rocky terrain.

  He wanted to get to shelter as soon as could be. Ellie shifted the carpetbag from one hand to the other. The load got heavier with every step, and the bulk of the valise made it hard to keep her balance. “I’m going to fall down this mountain and never see the coronation.”

  Just as she reached a level spot near the base of the mountain, the rain changed from a light sprinkle to a torrent. Tak bolted for a cluster of huge rocks, and Ellie followed. Tak leaped over the smaller boulders. To follow, Ellie had to climb and squeeze and struggle with her carpetbag. The hood of her cloak fell back, and rain poured on her head like she’d stuck it under the water pump at the kitchen sink. She fell off the last rock, which was barricading a cave, hit dry dirt, and rolled away from the entrance.

  She peered into the dark recesses of the cave. Creepies crawled over her skin, making the fine hair stand up.

  “Where are you?” she whispered.

  “Maa.”

  One of the shadows shifted. Ellie tensed, ready to run. Tak took a step forward.

  “Oh, you scared me, Tak.” She unbuttoned her cloak. “We’ll have to stay here. Not exactly what I’d like, but you don’t care for rain.” Pausing, she waited, thinking she might have heard a squeaky noise from farther back in the cave. “And I don’t like closed-in places.” She listened again, then whispered, “Probably a bat, and bats won’t hurt us.”

  She turned and faced the entrance, snapping the water off her cloak. She then laid it over a rock to dry. Sitting on the ground, she took off her new boots and sopping stockings. Tak took a few steps closer and looked over her shoulder as she worked to wring some of the rain out of the hem of her skirt.

  “It’s no use. I’m going to have to change.” She reached for her bag and pulled it closer.

  Tak nibbled at the ribbon holding a wet hank of her hair.

  “Stop!” She batted at him without hitting him. He responded to the signal to leave her alone by plopping his backside down. He looked like a very big, ugly dog. He chewed his cud, and his eyelids drifted half-shut over his horizontal pupils.

  Ellie paused in rummaging through her valise to ponder his contentment. “You’re wet and stinky.” The observation did not disturb his unfocused gaze.

  Ellie stared at the sheets of rain soaking the boulders across the front of their shelter. The rivulets all flowed away from the cave entrance. They wouldn’t be flooded.

  With a big sigh, Ellie pushed her new clothes back into the carpetbag. Changing her wet and mud-splashed dress for another would only get two outfits grubby instead of just one. She laughed a little at herself. At home she had two dresses. She’d have to be more than just a little dirty and uncomfortable to warrant putting the second dress on. She scooted back to the stone wall, arranged the carpetbag for a pillow, and snuggled down for a rest.

  Two nights before, she had been so excited about going with her aunt and uncle that she couldn’t sleep. The next day in town had left her worn to a nub. She’d discovered that shopping was hard work. Keeping up with Aunt Tiffenbeth had been exhausting.

  And that night, when she’d f
inally fallen onto the soft feather mattress in a room she had to herself, she couldn’t sleep. No sisters snored. No little bodies on either side of her squirmed and wiggled and dug at her with sharp elbows and toes.

  She couldn’t hear the breeze in the stand of quaken trees outside the farm window. The windows stayed shut in town. Aunt Tiffenbeth said burglars might be tempted to come through open windows.

  Homesick. And she wasn’t even five miles from home yet.

  She concentrated on the beautiful clothes Aunt Tiffenbeth had insisted on buying. She envisioned herself in each outfit. She planned what she would wear in the carriage, what she would wear to the street festival, what she would wear to the coronation parade, and what she would wear to the reception that would take place in the streets around the palace. Finally, she drifted off to sleep.

  Ellie awoke with a start. Her elbow hurt from being pressed into the hard ground. The muscles in her neck complained of the inadequacy of a carpetbag for a pillow. A rumble came from her stomach, and her nose discovered that the wet goat was still a very wet goat.

  She sat up. Thick, moist air clung to her skin. The rain had stopped, but now it seemed the cloud had settled on the mountain. She must have slept a long time. Getting to her feet, she shook out her skirt and found that one side was almost dry. She tiptoed to the front and took in the gray and soggy world.

  Tak rose to his feet and pranced to her side. “Maa.”

  “We’re going to the Hopperbattyholds’, and you aren’t to bellyache about having to go out in this squelchy weather. I’ve already missed my chance to meet them at the crossroads.” She snatched up her hosiery and boots. “I can’t wear wet stockings. I’d get blisters.” She opened the carpetbag and pulled out thick socks. She dropped the stockings, and Tak picked them up.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Ellie carefully worked them out from between Tak’s teeth. “You aren’t going to ruin them.”

  She hurried to get her shoes on and her bag repacked and herself looking as decent as possible considering she wore damp boots, a damp dress, and a damper cloak. She clambered back over the rocks and stood for a moment trying to figure out where she was.