DragonQuest Read online

  Kale watched as the girls did the same chores she’d done many times. She helped where she could, but the simple tasks didn’t need three people.

  Yonny polished the window glass as Cakkue put another log on the fire. Both of them passed the tree and the minor dragons on tiptoe.

  “I’ll be free to marry,” said Cakkue, “as soon as I’m sixteen.” She brushed the palms of her hands over her apron to remove the dirt she’d picked up from the log. Kale noticed old fabric patched the worn material of her apron.

  A shadow darkened the room. Kale turned to see what blocked the sun. Regidor stood in the doorway and beckoned. In his monk robes, he looked like a dark specter with the sun blazing behind him. Yonny gasped and scuttled next to her big sister.

  The minor dragons raced through the air to greet him.

  “He’s harmless too,” said Kale as she moved across the room to follow Regidor. Before she stepped outside, she heard Cakkue speak in a loud whisper.

  “Strangers! Lately we’re overrun by strangers.”

  Yonny replied, “It wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t such strange strangers.”

  Dibl did a flip and landed on Regidor’s shoulder. Both dragons, meech and minor, laughed at Yonny’s reaction to them.

  Kale caught up to Regidor and matched his long stride.

  “Did you meet your mother, Kale?” he asked.

  “Yes, I think I did.”

  “What did that girl mean when she said she would be free to marry?”

  “Slaves are only kept until they’re sixteen. By then it’s supposed that they’ve been trained to lead a life without being supported by the village.”

  “When you talked of being a slave, you never mentioned this.”

  “Well, the idea is that a slave girl would marry. I never thought any of the marione young men would be interested in me.”

  “You could have gone to a city.”

  Kale shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “So if you had remained a slave, next year when you’re sixteen, you would’ve been freed. Now you’re a servant to Paladin, and next year you’ll still be a servant to Paladin, still sent on quests.”

  “I can choose to do something else, Regidor. Paladin explained that to me.”

  “But you will still be a servant to Paladin?”

  “Yes, always. Once you have pledged to follow him, you’re his servant, no matter what you do in life.”

  “This is an interesting concept. Do you look forward to this future?”

  Kale thought about the days she had spent with Fenworth, the friends she had made since leaving River Away, and the feeling she had of actually having a destiny, rather than a life ruled by chance.

  “Yes, Regidor, I do.”

  43

  GOOD NIGHT

  “I have guests in every room,” Mistress Meiger said. “You share a room with your mother, dear. She should be looked after, and who better to take care of her if she be feeling poorly?”

  “She’s been ill?” asked Kale.

  “Not ill exactly, but worn out. I don’t understand it all. A lot of things have happened of late that I don’t understand. I do know your mother loves you, and I’m powerful glad you’re here to visit, myself. Now get on with you, and take those little creatures with you. They’re pretty things, but not what I’m used to.”

  Kale climbed the stairs without the usual candle. Ardeo sat in her hand and lit the way. She wanted the minor dragons for company tonight. She didn’t look forward to spending the night with a stranger.

  Dibl stomped his hind feet on her shoulder, and she giggled.

  “You’re right, Dibl, this mother is not as strange as the other mother.”

  She tapped on the door and opened it when the person within responded, “Come in.”

  The o’rant woman who claimed to be her mother sat, propped up, in the bigger bed. Wedged between a chest of drawers and the wall, another bed, smaller and harder, waited for Kale. She crossed the room and laid down her bundle. The minor dragons flew about the room, looking for places to roost. Ardeo landed on the sconce attached to the wall. Metta circled the room and then returned to her shoulder. Dibl sat on the pillow of her bed. Gymn landed on the older woman’s lap, tilted his head as if examining her, then climbed the front of her gown to curl up just below her double chin.

  Lyll patted Gymn tentatively. “Well, I can’t say I’ve had much experience with minor dragons.”

  “You need healing,” said Kale. “Gymn is a healing dragon.”

  Lyll stroked the little green dragon’s sides. He soon turned over to have his belly rubbed. Kale grinned, knowing Gymn enjoyed the attention. The smile fell from her face with the next thought.

  If I lie down with them and complete the circle, the healing will be faster and more complete.

  She turned quickly away and hung up her moonbeam cape on a peg. Plunging her hand into a hollow, she searched for a piece of pink soap she had bought in Prushing. She’d bought it because Toopka liked pink soap. Tonight Kale thought pink soap sounded like a wonderful way to wash away her troubles.

  As if any color soap would clean up this mess in my mind. I could probably use magic glasses so I could see clearly. Or magic hearing so I could sort out the truth and not hear voices that lie. And wouldn’t it be nice if Wulder were to write me a note and leave it on my pillow? Or better yet, Paladin could be standing in the hallway ready to explain all this about mothers and renegade dragons. I almost forgot the renegade dragons. That’s what I’m really supposed to be worried about. The quest is to find and rescue a dragon caught in Risto’s schemes. I seem to be better at finding mothers.

  “I’m going to go take a bath,” she said over her shoulder.

  “That’s fine, Kale.” The woman’s voice already sounded more steady.

  Dibl never passed up a chance to play in the water. He flew to land on her head. But she had to call Ardeo to come light her way down the passage to the back steps. Gymn and Metta stayed with the woman in the bed, which did not surprise Kale. She knew the dragons would feel mellow and serene after helping someone. Kale had felt that same contentment herself after being part of the circle of healing.

  She stomped down the dark hallway, determined to have a bath, a long soaking bath in nice warm water.

  In the kitchen, hot water kettles sat on the stove. Behind a curtain in a roughly constructed alcove, a large wooden tub served everyone in the household.

  Kale filled the tub with a mixture of hot and cold water. She used the pink soap and a rough rag. Lying in the tub with her hair clean and her skin scrubbed rosy, she listened to the noises of the tavern.

  The slave girls had been sent to bed long ago. A hired maid carried a few items from the kitchen to the tavern room, but the time for supper had long passed, and most of the patrons drank cider and swapped stories. No minstrel performed tonight. On rare occasions, a traveling entertainer spent the night, paying for his lodging with songs and stories. On Friday and Saturday nights, several local farmers would come in and play their fiddles.

  But tonight it was quiet, too quiet. Kale had half expected Dar, and maybe even Regidor, to play for the locals. But she hadn’t seen them since they ate together several hours before.

  “It’s too quiet!” Kale hissed. She abruptly stood, splashing over the rim of the tub as she climbed out of the water.

  “If they won’t sing a song to keep my silly brain from asking myself the same questions over and over, then I’ll sing a song myself.”

  She grabbed a large piece of old blanket and scrubbed at the goose bumps rising on her body. Dibl flew around her head, getting in the way. She barely opened her mouth and sang between clenched teeth.

  “The general of the day,

  He walked among his men.

  He called them left,

  He called them right,

  He called them left again.”

  Shivering, she slipped a nightshift over her head and wrapped a warm blanket around her thin frame.
Dibl enticed Ardeo to join him in a silly dance above her head.

  “The king, he came to see,

  The men he sent to sea.

  He called them up,

  He called them down,

  He called them back to me.”

  She sat on a rickety stool to pull on one thick sock. Dibl left the area behind the curtain to go to the less confining space of the kitchen. Ardeo followed, leaving her in semidarkness.

  “The cook, she had a duck.

  She plopped him in the pot.

  She dunked him in,

  She pulled him out,

  Whene’er the duck did squawk.”

  Where is everybody when you want a distraction? Toopka chattering in my ear. Librettowit complaining about being a librarian on a quest. Dar whistling or tootling on some fancy noisemaker. Bardon looking like a statue and sending off emotions like a volcano. Fenworth crawling with bugs.

  Kale leaned against the wall, sticking her bare foot between the floor and the bottom of the tub. A gap where the floor met the wall let frigid air in from the outside. She found the plug at the seam of the tub with her toes, and then expertly kicked with the side of her heel to pop it out. The bath water swooshed out of the hole and ran out of the building. She wiped off her foot and put on her other sock. She then snatched up the almost empty egg pouch by the leather thong and hurried out of the cold bath closet.

  “Come on, Dibl, Ardeo.” Kale charged up the back steps and down the hall, stopping before the wooden door. She could hear Metta crooning. Looping the leather thong over her head, Kale tucked the pouch inside her gown, then knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Kale slipped in and quietly shut the door behind her. She put her things away and got out her brush.

  “Come sit on the bed, Kale. I’ll brush your hair.”

  “You’re too tired,” she objected.

  “No, I’ve slept most of the day, and your little dragons have been healing my aches and pains. Come.”

  The soft tone of her voice coaxed Kale into complying.

  She sat rigidly on the large bed. The former slave girl would rather do the brushing herself. She took care of herself very well. And besides, her hair tangled easily, and the wet curls could be stubborn. But the woman eased the brush through the twisted locks. The bristles pulled gently through Kale’s shoulder-length hair. She relaxed with each tender stroke of the brush.

  “Now, tell me about Dar and Toopka.”

  Her mother’s request startled her. “How did you know about them?”

  “Gymn and Metta.”

  “You can mindspeak with them?”

  “Kale, I am a wizard.”

  “Oh yes,” she stuttered. “I-I guess I forgot. You don’t look like the other wizards I’ve met.”

  “Fen and Cam? No,” she chortled, “I don’t look like those old men.”

  The good-natured sound of her laughter set Kale even more at ease. At least Toopka and Dar are easy to talk about. I guess it wouldn’t do any harm.

  When she had finished recounting tales of the two doneels, she talked about two of the emerlindians she had met, Leetu Bends and Granny Noon. Then she told of Brunstetter and Lee Ark. Carefully she avoided any mention of where these people were now. And she didn’t spell out how they worked for Paladin either.

  The woman stroked Kale’s hair with her hand. “There. Your hair is dry enough to sleep on now.”

  “Thank you.” Kale took the brush from her hand and laid it on the bedside table.

  “Will you tell me about the other woman who said she was me?”

  She jerked around to look into the kindly eyes of the older woman. She sighed. “The dragons told you.”

  Lyll smiled. “Yes.”

  “She’s not like you at all. And I don’t like her very much.”

  “All this Gymn and Metta have told me. They also said she is elegant, refined, and beautiful.”

  Kale nodded and looked down at her lap.

  “Would you like to be elegant, refined, and beautiful, Kale?”

  She bit her lip. “Yes,” she answered after only a moment.

  “But?”

  “I don’t want to be like her. She’s hard and cold and…”

  “There are some things that pass from one generation to the next. You have your father’s build, strong and lean. You also have my hazel eyes and curly hair. If this other woman were your real mother, you might find that you have the same shape of hands, or arch in your eyebrows, or a dimple in the cheek. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you would be cold and hard.”

  “If you are my real mother, who is she?”

  “I have an idea about that, but first I would like you to be convinced that I am your real mother.” She spread her hands in a helpless gesture and shrugged. “But I have no way of doing that.”

  “Paladin would know.”

  “Yes, he would.” Lyll yawned and covered her mouth with a sturdy hand.

  “Wulder knows.”

  “Yes, and in time, He will make it clear to you.” Lyll leaned back and pushed down into the covers, resting her head on the pillow. “Do you want to sleep in this big, soft bed with me? There’s plenty of room.”

  “No, that’s all right. I’m used to sleeping on a pallet. I’ll be comfortable over there.”

  Kale left the warmth of the downy mattress and thick quilts. She snuffed the two candles in the room and padded in sock-covered feet to the darkened corner. Snuggling into the smaller bed, she called the dragons to her.

  “Oh dear,” said her mother.

  “Can I get you something?” asked Kale.

  “No, it’s just that, well, does Ardeo glow all night?”

  Dibl gave a little hiccup of laughter from his place beside Kale’s head. She giggled. “Yes, he does. There’s no way to put him out. I don’t mean put him out like you would a cat or a dog at night, but to put him out like you would a lantern. He can crawl under my covers if the light bothers you.”

  “I thought it might, but it’s rather comforting, isn’t it? I think I’ll like having his shining presence in the room.”

  Kale agreed. Gymn stood up, turned in a circle, then settled down again on her shoulder. She knew why he was restless.

  “Mistress?”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you like Gymn to sleep with you? You’ll feel better in the morning if he does.”

  The woman sighed. “Yes, Kale, I would like that.”

  44

  MORNING SURPRISES

  “One, two. One, two, three, four. One, two. One, two, three, four.”

  The chant penetrated Kale’s sleepy brain and roused her from a wonderful dream about visiting a palace in Wittoom where Dar was the principal chef. If she allowed herself to wake up, she would miss the banquet.

  “One, two. One, two, three, four. One, two. One, two, three, four.”

  Kale opened an eye to view her mother’s bed. Sunlight made a path across the crumpled linens. Dust motes danced above. Metta sat on the far edge and hummed a tune that matched the beat of the unexplained counting. Gymn lay curled up in a comfortable ball on one of the pillows. But no woman lay on the downy mattress.

  With both eyes open and her lethargic body propped up on an elbow, Kale watched two feet appear and disappear from the other side of the larger bed.

  “One, two.” A right foot bobbed up, toes pointing to the ceiling. It dropped out of sight, and the left one replaced it.

  “One, two, three, four.” Both feet waggled above the horizon of the mattress in a quick flutter of activity.

  “One, two.” The right foot, left foot performance repeated.

  Kale sat up in bed, dislodging a snoozing Ardeo. Cold air hit her neck and shoulders. She shivered and pulled the covers back up to her chin. “Mistress?”

  “Did I wake you, Kale? I’m sorry, but it’s a beautiful morning, and I’m feeling so much better.

  “One, two. One, two, three, four.”

  This is ridiculous!

>   Kale threw the covers back and grabbed her clothes. She pulled on her pants and exchanged her nightshift for a shirt. As she shoved one foot into a boot, she heard grunting. Her mother’s arms lay across the edge of the bed. In the next moment, she hoisted herself to a kneeling position and stayed there, watching Kale and panting.

  Kale felt her eyebrows shoot up as she gasped at the sight of the old o’rant woman. Or rather, the woman who should have been old.

  “You’re younger!” Kale exclaimed.

  “Not as young as I used to be,” said Lyll as she struggled to rise. She began running in place as soon as she had her feet under her. “Nothing like a good night’s sleep to rejuvenate the old bones. Give me five or ten minutes, and we’ll see what a little exercise can do.”

  Kale collapsed with a thud on her bed. She had one boot on and the other one in her hand. As she watched, the o’rant woman counted to a hundred, lightly prancing in the space between her bed and the window. Then she put her hands on her hips and bent at the knees. Her body descended, only to rise again a moment later. She repeated this action, counting to twenty-five. Next, with her hands clasped behind her neck, she twisted her torso. Then Lyll extended her arms straight above her head, bent at the waist, swinging her arms in an arc. Her upper body bobbed down behind the bed and sprang up again. The thick braid hanging over her shoulder swung like a pendulum.

  Kale watched with fascination as Lyll Allerion became younger and thinner with each round of up-down motion.

  “There now,” Lyll said, as she finally stood still and took a deep breath. “Getting back in shape takes more work the older I get.”

  She strode over to her dress hanging on a peg. She stopped in front of the garment and seemed to be examining the material.

  “A bit soiled,” she said.

  The dress began to jiggle on its peg. Lyll left it to gyrate and crossed the room to a black bag. She pulled out a brush. Sitting on the windowsill, she undid her long brown braid and spent the next ten minutes brushing and rebraiding the gorgeous fall of dark, curly locks. Metta and Dibl watched with rapt attention. Gymn stretched on the pillow, rolled over, and curled his tail around himself, never waking. Ardeo climbed into Kale’s lap, but she saw that he, too, stared in fascination at the lovely wizard.