31
THE AFTERMATH
Kale awoke to the pleasant smell of wood smoke and the crackling fire in the hearth. A dim yellow light from a lantern suffused the interior of a pine cabin. A wool blanket cocooned her in warmth. She blinked, for the cabin was like many in the village of River Away. The square, squat furniture was built for the bodies of mariones. The dark colors in the curtains and rug reflected marione tradition.
Had she dreamed? How much had been a dream? Was she still a slave in a tiny village in eastern Amara?
She forced her aching head off the hard pillow and struggled to sit. This was not a home she had been in before. She did not recognize the layout of the room nor any particular piece of furnishing, yet she lay on a slave’s pallet alongside a kitchen wall.
The front door opened, revealing a brief glimpse of a fenced paddock, a barn, trees, stars, and moon. A man came in, but not a marione.
An o’rant!
The dim light in the room did not fall on his face, but allowed her glimpses of his clothing. Dressed in the elegant apparel of the aristocracy, he rustled as he moved. Light from the fire danced on the shiny material of his jacket and glinted on his finely polished boots. He went directly to the hearth, removed the lid from a pot, and stirred the contents.
Kale’s mouth watered as she smelled pnard potatoes laced with savory herbs and butter. The stranger ladled some stew into a bowl, replaced the cover on the pot, and grabbed a spoon. He walked across the room and handed the meal to Kale.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the warm bowl.
“Don’t burn yourself.”
Kale gasped and looked up into Paladin’s kind eyes. A young man in the prime of his life, he smiled and lowered himself to sit cross-legged beside her on the floor. His dark hair flowed around his face in soft waves. Blue eyes crinkled at the corners as if he laughed often. His straight nose pointed over a firm, strong mouth. His jaw and chin looked stubborn, but his high forehead made him appear considerate and wise. Kale thought him very handsome and a bit overwhelming.
“Go ahead, eat,” he urged her. “You’ve slept a day and a night. You should be starved.”
The fragrance rising with the steam tickled her nose, but a lump pressed in her chest.
“Leetu?” she asked.
“Living, but still unconscious.”
“Dar?”
“A rascal still.”
“The kimens?”
“All accounted for.”
“Celisse?”
“Completely recovered and also forgiven by Dar. She and Merlander are settled in a copse down the road.”
Kale lifted her hand to her chest where her little dragon friend often slept.
Paladin smiled. “Gymn is fine as well and has been riding in my pocket.” He rested a hand on the full skirt of his court coat. “Sleeping.”
Kale took a bite and savored the rich, creamy taste. She took another spoonful and surreptitiously studied the man seated before her.
He smiled. “You can ask any questions you want.”
“There are a lot of things I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Do you really want me in your service?”
“Most definitely.”
She liked the enthusiasm in his voice, but she didn’t understand why he’d consider her worthy.
“What can I do?”
“Whatever falls before you. No more. No less.”
She sighed. The answers to her questions only made more questions in her mind.
“Why do I have these special talents?”
“Which special talents, Kale Allerion?”
“Finding dragon eggs.”
“Wulder knew you would be the right one for the quest, so He equipped you for the task.”
“The light thing.”
Paladin looked down at his hand and seemed to examine his fingernails. “The light thing?”
Kale hesitated, stirring the stewed potatoes, taking a bite, swallowing slowly, and stirring some more.
Paladin said nothing but waited. His attention came back to the o’rant girl. His steady gaze warmed her. Finally peace blanketed her heart, and she felt comfort in confiding in him.
“In the castle garden, when the bisonbeck soldiers came, I concentrated on making the image of light, and real light appeared.”
“Ah yes, I remember. I was pleased to see you nab that power so easily, but I do think Fenworth will have a time training your instincts and channeling your energy.”
“We’ll find Wizard Fenworth?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve spoken to him.”
Kale found this interesting. She paused to think about how easily Paladin solved the problem. Fenworth had not wanted to be found, so he wasn’t. Paladin spoke to the reclusive old wizard, and now Fenworth would allow them to find him. Paladin’s word was powerful. That raised more questions in her mind.
“You spoke to the fire dragons, and they went away. You didn’t threaten them or slay them, you just spoke. Why?”
“Why?”
“Why did they obey?”
“Because my power is stronger than theirs. To their chagrin, they know they cannot defeat me in battle.”
She pictured the murderous dragons flying fearlessly across the sky.
“Then why did they challenge you?”
Paladin smiled ruefully and shook his head. “They were angry and not at all rational in their anger.”
“Why didn’t you destroy them? Why did you let them go? You know they’ll return.”
“They serve a purpose in Wulder’s plan. I would not go against what Wulder has ordained.”
“But if you destroyed them, then it wouldn’t matter. Things like finding Wizard Fenworth, finding the meech egg, taking it away from Risto. Things like that wouldn’t be important anymore. And if you’d destroyed all the evil sooner, Leetu wouldn’t have been hurt. Those people at the castle wouldn’t have been killed. The others wouldn’t have suffered. You could do that, couldn’t you? You have the power to destroy evil. You could!”
Kale realized as she took a breath that she had spoken in a way she shouldn’t have. Paladin ought to be angry at her impertinence.
He nodded slowly, watching her with patient eyes, listening to her rant, not showing any anger toward her presuming to tell him what to do.
She swallowed hard as she saw mist fill the room and their surroundings seem to fade away. She sat opposite the great Paladin with a half-eaten bowl of pnard potatoes in her lap, a dirty spoon in her hand, and nothing around them but swirling gray mists.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Together,” he answered. His hand swept through the air as if waving off an unimportant question. “Kale, Wulder has ordered our world.”
“I know that.” She answered quietly, ashamed of her string of heated words. Yet part of her still rebelled against the injustice. She strained to understand, chafing because Paladin did not use his power to right the wrongs that evil men like Risto committed.
A light giggle floated through the cloudy air. Kale turned her head to see a small doneel toddle toward them. The baby laughed out loud and clapped her tiny furry hands when she saw Paladin. Without hesitation she clambered into his lap and cuddled in his arms, playing with a shiny gold button on his jacket.
Paladin hugged her and kissed the top of her head between two small button ears.
“By Wulder’s design, this little girl will become a renowned seamstress whose fashions are sought after in Vendela as well as other prominent cities.”
Kale watched the child stick two fingers in her mouth and rest her head against the soft fabric of Paladin’s coat.
“Should I give her a needle and thread now?” asked the strong young ruler.
“No!” answered Kale.
“Why not?”
“She’d stick herself.”
“Yes, you’re right. To give her the sharp needle now would be of the correct order
of things.”
Kale’s brow knitted in puzzlement. And then her eyes popped wide as the sleeping doneel child vanished from Paladin’s lap.
Between the edge of Kale’s pallet and the man’s crossed ankles, a plant sprouted out of the wooden floor.
“An apple tree, Kale,” said Paladin. “Pick an apple for me.”
She looked at the seedling and up at the man teaching her. She shook her head. “It won’t bear fruit for years.”
He nodded. “After it has struggled to put down roots, borne the stretching of growth, enjoyed sun and rain.”
She glanced up to see the shadowy presence of an apple orchard surrounding them in the fog. Red apples burdened each branch of each tree.
Paladin surveyed the fruit with a pleased smile.
“These trees are mature and bearing a healthy crop.” He pointed to the infant plant between them. “Because the others are ready, should we place an apple on this one?”
A large apple appeared, attached to the tip of the seedling’s only limb, crushing the small plant.
Paladin shook his head slowly, a sad expression altering his kind face. The orchard faded into nothing. The mist covered the broken sapling, and when it swirled away, the plant was gone.
Paladin reached out and took Kale’s small, callused hand in his.
“Kale, Wulder knows when to do what must be done. I didn’t destroy Risto’s army of evil because it was not the right time. In this world, people are growing, learning about Wulder, learning about themselves, making choices. Confronting Risto and those like him is part of Wulder’s plan to help these ordinary people develop into something wonderful. I would not cheat these good people of the opportunity to be great in the eyes of Wulder.”
“It would be easier without the struggles,” said Kale, not daring to look directly into Paladin’s eyes. She stared instead at his gentle hand holding hers. His perfect skin, smooth and unblemished, looked odd next to her dirty, work-worn hand.
He chortled, a warm chuckle, soft and friendly, coming from deep within.
“Kale, I love you. You are a child of my heart. You have been called to my service. Others have told you to answer the call, and you did. But Kale, now I want you to make a choice.” He withdrew his hand. “Do you want to follow me? You can say yes and continue the quest with Dar and the others. You can say no and be free to go anywhere you want.”
“Back to River Away?”
“If that is what you want. But you don’t have to go there. You could go to Vendela if you want and look for Farmer Brigg’s friend Maye at The Goose and The Gander. She would give you a job with wages. She is a nice woman.”
Kale weighed the possibilities for a second. Only one choice truly appealed to her. She’d seen Paladin turn back evil. She’d seen him hold a baby tenderly in his lap. She’d felt his touch. She’d seen his smile.
“I want to follow you.”
They’d been sitting, but now they stood. Kale couldn’t recall standing up. Paladin swept her into his arms and whirled her around. They’d been in a marione house, and now they were on top of a cloud, or at least Kale thought the billowy puffs of white beneath them looked like clouds.
Paladin twirled so fast Kale’s legs flew out behind her. Cold, crisp air tingled her skin. She giggled in response to Paladin’s deep laughter.
When the spinning slowed, the wooden floor appeared again beneath their feet, and Kale found herself sitting on the pallet across from Paladin. Her fingers were cold, her breath came fast, and she could see in Paladin’s expressive face the same exhilaration she felt. Suddenly shy, she ducked her head.
It’s like being in a family, an important family. He said he loves me. If only I had something to give him.
He took her hand again.
His question surprised her. “Would you like to give me something?”
Cautiously, she looked up, wondering if he was mocking her. What did she have to give someone like him? His face reassured her. She nodded.
He released her hand and sat back.
A fiddle appeared in Kale’s lap.
“Ah, a beautiful instrument,” said Paladin. “Will you give it to me?”
Kale felt tears behind her eyes. Would she ever understand what he tried to tell her? She jerked her head up and down and handed over the fiddle.
A ring appeared on her finger. Paladin asked for it, and she gave it. A hat on her head. A bag of coins. A flower. A bottle of perfume. Each appeared, and she willingly gave each to the mysterious man who sat before her. The last item, a picture in a frame, she held limply in one hand.
“What is it, Kale? Why are you distressed?” he asked. “Don’t you enjoy giving me gifts?”
She shrugged, fighting the sadness in her heart.
“They don’t mean anything to me,” she answered. “They aren’t mine.”
“What would make this painting yours?”
“If I painted it, or if I earned the money to buy it.”
“But isn’t it easier for me to just give it to you without the struggles?”
Kale watched the painting in its frame dissolve into nothing, leaving her hand empty. As the gift disappeared, a feeling of hope filled her soul.
She lifted expectant eyes to Paladin. He was going to answer her question.
“What is it that I can give you?”
“You’ve already given me all that I want, Kale. You’ve pledged to be in my service. You’ve given yourself. As you continue this quest, give me every thought, every action, every deed. It’s so simple, Kale. It’s what you are and who you are, what you do and what you think and feel. That is your gift to me.”
Kale’s heart cringed within her breast. The disappointment tore her with a pain intense and cruel.
“It’s too hard to understand. I can’t do it.”
Paladin took the bowl and spoon from Kale’s lap and set them on the floor. He stood before her, reached down to grasp her hands, and pulled her to her feet.
“Dearest Kale, neither Wulder nor I ask you to understand, only to do. Don’t waste effort on trying to understand the impossible. Know that the impossible is not impossible for Wulder. The unfathomable is understood by Him. Allow Him to take care of that which is beyond your capability. And you…” He stroked a stray lock of hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “You concentrate on doing that which is before you.”
He grinned. Kale looked upon Paladin’s face and caught his enthusiasm, his anticipation of life. She breathed in deep as if to absorb his aura of confidence through the air around him. Her face broke into a smile to answer his. His next words sounded like a cheer in her ears.
“Enjoy your accomplishments, and leave the incredible, the insurmountable, the daunting tasks to Wulder.”
“I will,” she answered.
The mysterious mist stirred with a sudden, quick breeze and swiftly escaped the confines of the pinewood cabin. Sunshine flowed in the window. Morning birds chorused outside.
Paladin patted her shoulder. “First, may I make a suggestion?”
“Of course.” She couldn’t help but beam at him. Her heart felt full of love and hope.
He leaned closer and whispered confidentially. “First, let’s see if we can arrange a bath. You, my dear, are one unholy mess.”
32
MARCHING ORDERS
Kale sat on a bench at the plank table under a great oak. A dozen marione children scurried back and forth from the house, putting out plates, cups, and platters of food. Even after a week, it felt odd to sit and be served. But every time she offered to help, she was told she was a guest.
A guest. A guest in the home of mariones. And not just any marione, but General Lee Ark.
Kale looked over to where the famous marione played ribbets with a bunch of wild children. His team of half pints scored again against the older, less organized children. The spectators, sitting on the perimeter of the field, cheered.
Lee Ark had come to her rescue along with the urohm when she wa
s trapped by the grawligs. He’d also ridden Merlander the night she and Dar jumped from the waterfall ledge.
His wife treated Kale as a respected visitor. Mistress Ark had given Kale the most treasured spot in their home, the kitchen, to sleep in, the only room that wasn’t filled to the brim with sleeping mariones. In Lee Ark’s “cabin,” a dozen bedrooms overflowed with eleven children, various aunts and uncles and cousins, and four grandparents. Kale had not been able to sort through all the people.
Leetu lay on a narrow cot in a bedroom full of old women. There, one of the marione elders kept vigil in a rocker next to the dangerously ill emerlindian. At no time was she left alone. Kale wanted Paladin to heal her friend. Could he? She didn’t like the waiting and uncertainty that everyone else seemed to take in stride.
The meadow teemed with activity. All the neighbors had gathered at Lee Ark’s home to spend time celebrating the upset of Risto’s forces, the presence of Paladin, and each other’s company. Members of each of the high races enjoyed the festival atmosphere. Music filled the camp, children scampered about, women sat beneath the trees and did needlework as they visited, and the men played games with each other and with the small ones. Everyone here seemed friendly and joyful, even though they lived in the shadow of Risto’s fortress. This was one more thing to ask Paladin about if she ever got the chance.
Since the morning he had given his special attention to her, she had not been able to catch him alone. He was available, but only in a crowd. Every afternoon he sat with the children and told stories. In the eventide he told more tales, but to a gathering of adults who sat on the grass around a campfire and whose children nodded in their laps. As the dark grew thick beyond the light of the fire, sometimes he would explain a deeper meaning to the tale he had just told. Kale loved it all. She thirsted for more of his words, more of his wisdom. How could she ever go on to face this quest if she didn’t know everything he had to teach her first?