“I’ve provided you with five dragons and their riders, Captain Anton and his guard,” said Dar. “They are under your command, Squire Bardon. Also, I have had several requests from individuals who wish to join your quest.”
“A guard?” asked N’Rae. “What’s a guard?”
“A military unit,” answered Sir Dar. “A captain and four loes. A lo is higher rank than leecent and lower than lehman.”
“Is a captain higher in rank or lower than a leetu?”
“Lower,” said the doneel. “Why do you want to know of military rankings?”
“Bardon mentioned a Leetu Bends, that’s all.”
Sir Dar sent his squire a quizzical look. Bardon merely shrugged. He didn’t know why his little emerlindian comrade should take such an interest in someone he spoke of once.
“Is that good, Bardon?” asked N’Rae. “To have more people to help rescue Father?”
“That depends.” He looked at Sir Dar. “Who wants to join us?”
“Follow me.” Dar led them to the other side of the field, skirting the dancing dragons. The five in service to Sir Dar executed their drill in synchronized motions. Greer only just managed to keep up. He usually performed his morning exercises by himself.
Watching his dragon trying to blend in caused Bardon to puzzle over the odd behavior. Why are you even bothering to join their routine? The squire’s eyes moved to the graceful golden female between the two greens. Yes, I see what you mean. She is, indeed, a beauty.
Bardon put his hand on N’Rae’s elbow to guide her. Her head was turned so she could admire the graceful movements of the dragons. She had no idea when Sir Dar changed directions and would have walked off the steep decline on that side of the hill if Bardon hadn’t tugged on her arm.
Three people, two boys and a man, stood near the tack house. Bardon knew two, Ahnek and Trum Aspect. A surprisingly slender tumanhofer youth stood next to Ahnek. He had a walking stick in his hands and gazed over the dragon field.
Bardon stuck his hand into his pocket, curling his fingers around the coin Paladin had given him.
Sir Dar led him to the courtier Trum Aspect, who had distanced himself from the poorly clad boys, and made introductions.
The coin grew cold in Bardon’s hand. He bowed politely. “I decline your generous offer, Master Aspect. We have no need of your estimable talents on this journey into the wilderness.”
Aspect held his expression in check and bowed with just the right amount of deference. “Your choice, of course,” he answered. He turned on his heel and strode off toward the castle.
When he had passed the end of the field, Sir Dar muttered, “I wouldn’t have taken him, either. Shifty. Couldn’t figure out why he wanted to go.”
“I believe he thinks N’Rae is a valuable commodity.”
Sir Dar tilted his head, and his ears lay back. “Emerlindians are becoming scarce, but his investments are usually more commercial.”
As they walked closer to the shed and the two boys, Dar said, “Next, we have two eager young adventurers. Ahnek, you know. The other is Sittiponder from Vendela. He has traveled here for the express purpose of joining your quest.”
“He must have known of it long before I did.”
“He probably did. He is a blind seer.”
“Sittiponder?” Bardon spoke the name in a considering tone, then paused. “I think Kale mentioned this lad.”
“She did. He’s an associate of the street urchin, Toopka.”
Bardon clenched the coin in his fist. It held warmth as he studied one boy and then the other. He and Sir Dar stopped in front of the boys. Ahnek looked up with a smile. Sittiponder cocked his head slightly, but his face remained directed to the field he could not see.
Bardon put his free hand on the blind boy’s narrow shoulder. “What is your reason for coming, Sittiponder?”
“To serve Paladin, Squire.”
“How will you serve him?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t been told. I have only been told to come.”
Bardon considered the answer.
The boy shuffled his feet. “I have a talent that might be useful.”
Dar’s ears perked. “And this is?”
“I hear voices of wisdom.”
Dar cocked his head and nodded. He looked up at Bardon. His squire nodded as well.
“Why do you want to go, Ahnek?” Bardon asked.
“I can be of use, and I desire to train to be a knight. With my background I have no hope of entering service unless I make myself useful.” He stopped and looked around as if to find something he could do immediately to show his willingness. He grasped Sittiponder’s arm. “I can be this seer’s eyes. He will need help. I can do that. Then neither of us will be a burden to you.”
Sittiponder carefully removed his arm from Ahnek’s hold. “I am not as helpless as you would think.”
“Of course not,” Ahnek said quickly. “But wouldn’t it be convenient for you to have a servant?” A big grin spread across his face. “I’d like that if I were you. Bet you’ve never had someone at your beck and call. Sounds good, huh?”
Bardon knew something of Sittiponder’s history as a street urchin who told stories in exchange for food. He almost laughed at the irony of one boy being servant to the other. But the dignity exhibited by both lads kept him from so much as smiling.
“You shall both come,” he said, “and you shall both do chores that fall to you. Sittiponder, go to each dragon and determine who is the best mount for you. Ahnek, accompany him. You will ride with him on whomever he chooses.”
Sittiponder chose the largest of the dragons. Named Frost, the blue purple major dragon had wings with a silver shimmer over his sapphire hide. Silver also edged each purple scale. Small blue stones and silver beads adorned his black leather saddle and straps.
“You’ve chosen well,” said Bardon. “He’s muscular enough to carry the triple saddle and supplies.”
“He’s magnificent, Sitti,” Ahnek said after describing Frost in detail. “Why did you pick him?”
“He’s the only one who talked to me.”
“He did?” Ahnek’s mouth hung open. “You mean like mindspeaking? Talking back and forth in your head without words?”
A small smile slipped into place on the gentle tumanhofer’s face. “There are words, but I hear them in my thoughts, not with my ears. I hear voices a lot. It used to scare me when I was little, but someone told me about Wulder, and from then on, I could tell which voices were good and which were bad. I learned to shield myself from the bad voices.”
“For true? What did the bad voices say?”
Sittiponder laughed. “Do you know that hardly anyone ever asks me what the good voices say?”
Ahnek rolled his eyes. “Well, what do the good voices say?”
“They tell me the secrets of the universe.”
“Secrets?”
Sittiponder nodded.
“Are you allowed to share the secrets? Say, with someone who is your personal servant and does all sorts of things to make your life more easy?”
Sittiponder’s smile twisted at one corner of his mouth. “I suppose…if I knew such a person. I don’t know such a person yet. Someone who has actually been of service and not just talked about it.”
“Do you have a parcel I could fetch for you?”
“No.”
“Are you thirsty? hungry? Can I get you something?”
“No.”
Ahnek’s shoulders drooped. “This isn’t going to be easy.”
Bardon laughed. “You boys better get on board. Ahnek, Sittiponder has never ridden a dragon. You will need to describe the way to climb up, and give him a hand.”
“Right!” said the young o’rant. “This way, then.” He put his hand on Sittiponder’s elbow and steered him to Frost’s hind leg. He stopped, a look of confusion washing over his features.
“Squire Bardon?”
“Yes, Ahnek?”
“The thing is, I ha
ven’t ever ridden a dragon myself.” He scratched his head. “I don’t suppose you could show us the way up.”
“I’d be glad to.” Bardon stepped closer to the boys. “First, since this is a dragon you are only briefly acquainted with, the proper etiquette would be to go to his head and ask permission to board.”
“I’ll do that,” said Sittiponder. He moved away from Ahnek and walked deliberately along the reclining dragon’s side, directly to Frost’s head. Frost looked at the lad solemnly, and his head bobbed. Sittiponder grinned.
He came back to Bardon and Ahnek. “He thought it was funny when I asked if it would be too much extra weight to carry us. He said we were like fleas on a dog, to climb up, and he’d appreciate it if we didn’t bite.”
Bardon showed them how to mount the dragon and explained the triple seat. One large leather pad lay over the dragon’s spine, molded to fit the ridges that rose between his shoulders. Three seats were sewn to the large rectangle. The rider sat forward, and the passengers sat facing the rear. Their legs fit into knee hooks. A padded crest rose between the knees with places either to rest the hands or to grip when the dragon’s flight became erratic. Each section had a high cantle to lean against and pouches at the side where food, drink, and blankets were stored.
“It can get very chilly in the higher altitudes,” explained Bardon. “If you feel like you might go to sleep, there’s a strap to put across your waist. The buckle is over here. You can wear this belt all the time if you like.”
“Excuse me, Squire Bardon,” said Ahnek. “What does erratic mean? Does it mean ‘dangerous’?”
“Erratic?”
“You said to hold on when the dragon’s flight became erratic. What does erratic mean?”
Bardon remembered using the word when he described the parts of the saddle. Ahnek had a very inquisitive mind. The boy would do well in life. Bardon put his hand on the lad’s shoulder as he explained. “When a dragon is chasing something or being chased, he will make sharp banks, soar upward, or plunge downward. That’s an erratic flight. Also, the belt can be useful when the wind is rather forceful.”
“How will Granny Kye fare in such a seat?” asked Sittiponder.
“She’ll travel in a basket, as will Bromptotterpindosset. Wizard Fenworth says that old bones don’t bend to fit right in a dragon’s saddle.” He looked over to where N’Rae settled her grandmother in the woven contraption. “The basket has a special name, doohan. It looks like the cab of a single-seat buggy, doesn’t it? The doohan is tightly woven out of small reeds. This makes the enclosure warm for the passenger and light for the dragon. It rides on the side of the dragon rather than perched on top like a saddle. This is for the dragon’s ease. Usually, it’s balanced with an equal load on the other side, sometimes another doohan.”
“I wouldn’t like to ride like that,” said Ahnek. “All closed-up like. I couldn’t see.”
“I wouldn’t like it, either,” said Sittiponder. “I couldn’t feel or hear or smell.”
Bardon laughed. “You shall soon feel and hear and smell a great deal, young Sittiponder. Get yourself settled. We shall depart very soon.”
“What’s that smaller basket, Squire?” asked Ahnek.
“Homing waistcoaters. Sir Dar wants us to keep him informed of our progress.”
He left them to make his way around the field, checking on each rider and dragon. Satisfied that all was well, he bade farewell to Sir Dar.
“Wulder be with you, young Squire.”
“And with you, my knight.”
He vaulted into Greer’s saddle and gave the signal to rise. With huge colorful wings sweeping through the air, the entourage of six dragons ascended into a clear blue sky and headed north.
Nothing untoward occurred during the morning flight. They landed, ate, and rested at midday. During the afternoon, clouds began to accumulate.
What was that, Greer? My mind was wandering…Frost says that Sittiponder says that the voices say there is bad weather ahead? Relay a question to Bromptotterpindosset. Is there shelter nearby?
Bardon waited for a few minutes.
Seagram says his rider, Pont, says that the tumanhofer mapmaker says The Caves of Endor are the closest?…I, too, find our passing of messages amusing, Greer, but I think not as much as you do. Your chortling is jiggling my saddle…
I am learning a sense of humor, but just now I am leading a questing party into foul weather. I think it imperative to see to their safety…I never claimed to be a people person if that means, as I think it does, that I relate well to people…I’ve never claimed to be a dragon person, either…
Oh, enough Greer! Just tell the other dragons to inform their riders that we are changing our course to reach The Caves of Endor. Pont’s dragon shall take the lead. Tell Seagram to have Pont secure directions from Bromptotterpindosset.
Greer, my saddle is jiggling again.
31
THE CAVES OF ENDOR
Lightning forced them from the sky, but not before they reached the Plain of Gette, where they could go on foot, following the Bissean River. An hour’s trek in sheeting rain got them to the Ledges. The Caves of Endor honeycombed the oversized, natural, sandstone steps. Unusual geological formations covered one hundred square miles of the upper Wittoom Valley. Between the river and the beginning of the Ledges, numerous mud holes bubbled with smelly gases. Steam mixed with cold rain around each one. Occasionally, they heard sizzles and pops as cold water hit hot rocks.
The caves provided crude shelter for travelers. None of the high races lived close by because of the smell rising from the mud holes and because geysers occasionally popped through the crust of the earth without warning. No one wanted to build a house, then wake up in the middle of the night to find the floor swamped with steaming water.
The riders and passengers did not complain as the dragons marched through the unusual terrain.
“We should be close now,” called out Bromptotterpindosset.
Bardon called a halt to their caravan. “Holt, Ahnek, men, we shall get down and gather fuel for a fire.”
“Won’t it smoke something awful?” asked Ahnek.
“It’ll cover the smell of the mud holes.”
The men descended from the backs of the dragons. “Gather the thick limbs of the portamanca bushes,” instructed the mapmaker from his doohan. “They are surprisingly light, and you can peel the outer bark to find a wood core that burns very efficiently.”
“What’s this portamanca bush look like, Master?” called Ahnek.
“Have one of the riders point it out, boy,” barked the tumanhofer. “It’s past time you got out of the city. You need a different education than what you got on the streets.”
“That’s why I’m here,” muttered Ahnek.
Bardon stood nearby and heard him continue grousing as he shuffled through the puddles.
“I mean to make the most of my life, and here I am doing it, in muddy water up to my ankles with smelly gases nearly choking me ’spite this blasted cold rain.”
Two riders put out a tarp on which to throw the branches of the portamanca bushes. Then they dragged the waterproof canvas as they walked to the caves. The others continued to gather wood.
“How do we know we’re going in the right direction?” Ahnek asked Bardon as they met beside the tarp, each carrying an armload of fuel.
“As long as we don’t cross the Bissean River, we’re going the right direction. The cliffs and ledges angle out from the riverbed. We’d have to turn completely around to miss them.”
In just a few more minutes they came to the first ledge. The dragons stepped up easily. They all turned on the wide shelf, lowered their heads, and allowed the walking members of the party to ride up, clinging to their necks. With the four corners of the large canvas tied together, Greer took the bundle in his teeth and carried it up several more layers of rock before they reached a ledge that had huge, gaping, black entries to the caves beyond.
“We’re going in the
re?” asked Ahnek.
Bardon slapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be warm and cozy.”
“Right. Just like a warehouse.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever slept in a warehouse, Ahnek. But I have slept in The Caves of Endor. Aside from the smell, they’re a very comfortable accommodation. If you wish privacy, you can choose your own little cave jutting off from one of the main caverns. I’ve met other travelers here and shared a community campfire. Music, good stories, and dance. It can be quite a treat.”
“Right.”
The boy didn’t sound convinced but followed Bardon as he led the party into the largest cavern. The riders brought out lanterns from their packs of supplies and soon had a golden glow emanating from the center of the cavity in the limestone ledge. The other passengers dismounted, and Bromptotterpindosset took over the job of building a fire. Holt and N’Rae built seats out of the larger parcels and bundles as they unloaded the dragons. The dragons, one by one, slipped off to nearby caves to curl up and sleep.
“Why did they leave us?” asked N’Rae.
Bardon hooked together a metal apparatus that would hang over the edge of the fire and hold a kettle. “They don’t like the smoke and don’t mind the smell of the mud holes as much as we do. And, they really only enjoy the company of people in small numbers. In other words, they like their riders, they tolerate passengers, but people in a crowd are bothersome.”
The riders prepared food, a potato flat and creamed greens, which all the questing party enjoyed. The smoke from the fire did minimize the stench from outside. After they ate, Bromptotterpindosset told stories of his many travels. Granny Kye got out her sketchbook and drew. Sittiponder and Ahnek sat together with their backs against a soft roll of blankets. In the cave, the warmth of the fire kept the chill at bay.
Eventually, the mapmaker grew tired. “My voice will give out,” he said. “Let’s have some music.”
Three of Sir Dar’s riders played musical instruments. That didn’t surprise Bardon, who had also been trained to play the flute while in the doneel’s service. They chose songs of adventure, ballads of charming maidens and daring rescues, chants of epic quests, and melodies of haunting beauty, which filled the cavern with a mysterious ambiance.