The dress on the peg ceased its lonely dance. Lyll finished tying a ribbon on the end of her braid, hopped off the sill, tossed the brush in the open bag, and returned to examine the dress.
“What color today?” She tapped a shapely finger on her chin. “I always travel light, Kale. One dress for day, and of course, a nightgown.”
As she spoke the dress faded from blue to white and then turned pink, starting with a blush at the hem that rose up the material until the shoulders and sleeves had taken on the cheerful hue. As the color changed, so did the texture of the cloth. A patterned brocade replaced the homespun cotton. Lace frothed out at the neckline.
“Now that’s nice,” said Lyll and took the dress off the peg. A plain white bibbed apron hung beneath. Lyll took it as well. “I won’t need this.” The apron transformed into a silk shawl of a deep rose.
Kale blinked and saw her mother was dressed, the nightshirt on the peg, and the dress and shawl on the woman. Dibl rolled so fast in his excitement he nearly missed a turn at the edge of the mattress. He swerved in time and circled the bed once more, this time rolling directly over Gymn. The little green dragon squawked a protest and went back to sleep.
“Well, Kale,” said Lyll, “I’m famished. Let’s go down to breakfast, shall we? I’m also anxious to see what Fen and Cam have decided we should do about this dragon problem.”
“So we just sit here and wait,” said Wizard Cam, leaning back in his chair at the breakfast table. His wet hair looked as though it had just been washed, but Kale knew he almost always looked damp. Soon there would be a puddle under his chair, and if he sat in one place long enough, a rivulet would wander away, following any downslope.
Only tea and juice had been served thus far. Dar and Bardon had not yet joined the gathering.
“The suspicious wagon should be here today,” said the lake wizard.
“Oh great,” said Toopka, a pout pursing her lips. “That means it’ll be next week before they get here.”
Sitting next to her, Regidor tilted his head. He still wore his clerical robes since the populace of River Away had managed to accept a tumanhofer, two doneels, and three wizards, but still had problems with a walking, talking meech dragon. “What kind of wisdom is that?”
Toopka stood on her chair and put her hands on her hips. “It’s wisdom that comes from seeing how things work. Things you want to happen always take a long time.” She pointed one little finger at the meech dragon and shook it in his face. “You may read books and know bunches, but I have lived life longer than you.”
Regidor’s lips twitched as he suppressed a grin.
Toopka stomped one tiny foot. “You may get to be the smartest thing in all of Amara, but you’ll never be older than me. That’s just the way it is, and you’ll have to live with it!”
Fenworth, who was resting in the chair at the head of the table, stirred slightly, rattling his branches.
Cam cleared his throat. “No need to be so pugnacious, Toopka. We are all cognizant of the importance of seniority.”
Toopka sent a puzzled look Kale’s way.
Kale patted the little doneel’s back and guided her to sit down again on the wooden box that had been placed in her chair. “He means, don’t be so feisty, and we all know you’re older than Regidor, and yes, that’s important.”
Toopka nodded triumphantly at her meech friend.
Kale glanced around the tavern. In the days when she helped serve breakfast here, a number of regulars sat at the same tables every morning except Saturday and Sunday. Only her friends waited for their meal this morning.
It’s because of us, I’d guess. People in River Away don’t like to mix with people from outside.
Mistress Meiger came into the room from the kitchen. She carried a pot of tea. Yonny and Cakkue followed with a basket of muffins and a platter of scrambled eggs and sausages.
Kale’s former owner put down the pot and picked up a pitcher of fresh purpleberry juice. She refilled empty glasses in front of her guests. When she came to Kale, she said, “How’s your mother this morning, Kale?”
Kale glanced over at her mother. With a mischievous gleam in her eye, Lyll spoke up.
“Mern, I’m right here, and I’m feeling more like myself this morning.”
Mistress Meiger’s eyes popped. “And here I was thinking these wayfarers had brought in another strange person during the night.”
Oh dear! That was rude. Mistress Meiger only uses the term wayfarers to name those guests she believes are disreputable.
But Lyll Allerion did not take offense. “Now, Mern, you knew me well as a regular traveler years ago and enjoyed our visits to your tavern. Don’t be kerflummoxed by a few surprises.”
Mistress Meiger’s complexion blushed red. “I never would have thought that you and your dear husband were one of them. In fact, you deceived us, Lyll Allerion. I thought you were marione. You disguised your true being.”
“Ah, yes,” said Lyll, and her face grew solemn. “I wanted to be your friend, Mern, and you would not have let me. You’re not fond of things that are strange to your daily living. There are stranger things coming to River Away. Soon you’ll have to face the fact that Wulder is real and expects your loyalty.”
“Wulder’s coming here?”
Lyll sighed. “He’s already here.”
The innkeeper cast a look over her shoulder as if she expected to see a bogeyman. Cakkue and Yonny moved closer to their mistress’s skirts. They, too, peered into the shadowy corners.
Lyll reached out and patted her old friend’s hand. “If you took time to know Him, you wouldn’t be frightened by the prospect of His presence.”
The innkeeper tapped her two little slave girls on the shoulders and waved them off. “Go back to your chores,” she said gruffly. She watched until the kitchen door closed behind them.
With a shudder, Mistress Meiger turned back to the elegant lady at her table. “You’re talking of things that shouldn’t be talked about, Lyll. There’re some things best left alone. Talking ’bout the Mighty Good and the Mighty Bad will bring trouble to us all.”
“And who do you think is best pleased by this lack of talk?”
Mistress Meiger stared, then shook her head.
“I know,” said Toopka. “Pretender.”
Lyll shifted her attention to the doneel child and smiled.
“That’s right, and can you tell us why?”
Toopka screwed up her face. “Because…because Pretender likes to jump out and scare you. If you talk about him and know he’s around, you aren’t as likely to be surprised. But I don’t know about Wulder.”
“Wulder,” said Regidor, “likes to be familiar, Toopka. Like a bed you’re used to. There you relax, trusting in the comfort and safety during the dark times.”
Toopka studied Regidor’s face for a moment and then nodded.
The sound of horses clopping down the street interrupted the conversation. The riders drew up in front of the tavern. A moment later Dar and Bardon appeared in the doorway.
Dar doffed his hat and bowed to those present. “Our quarry approaches. Bardon and I went out early this morning to see if we could locate the band of potion peddlers. Their wagon is a few miles east of River Away. Our wait should not be long.”
45
BREAKFAST
Master Meiger strode into the common room of the tavern with three distinguished gentlemen of the district at his back. “We’ll have no more riffraff entering River Away and upsetting the order of our lives. The council has met, and we have decided to request that you and your comrades leave our peaceful hamlet immediately. Today!”
The three men behind him nodded their heads.
The companions around the breakfast table stopped eating and looked to the official representatives of the village and the outlying community.
Kale recognized all of them. She’d worked in their homes. I wonder if they count me as one of the “riffraff.”
The four marione men had pre
pared themselves for this confrontation by dressing in their best. They didn’t look as if they had been up all night, discussing the best course of action. But Kale knew that was standard procedure for accomplishing anything through the council. They loved to meet and would debate matters for countless hours.
Lyll’s voice entered Kale’s mind. “Don’t be harsh, Kale. These men are concerned for their families. And they don’t know what’s at stake. Remember, they treated you well. Extend the same courtesy to them tenfold.”
Kale studied her mother’s face, serene and gentle. To herself she admitted she had never been harshly used. The mariones treated me fairly. Their own children didn’t get warm-hearted praise, and so I didn’t either.
She examined Master Meiger and his friends, trying to be more objective. The men were not wealthy, but they’d put on their grandest garments to carry out this important mission. Although they still looked countrified, Kale found their determination made her proud. This surprised her.
But it shouldn’t. These families gave me a home and taught me to be self-sufficient. They did their best for me even though I’m an o’rant, not a marione.
The tree at the head of the table snorted, shook with vigor, and rose. By the time Fenworth stood, he’d regained the semblance of a man.
“You see!” Meiger’s voice echoed in the open space of the nearly deserted tavern. “That’s just the sort of thing we don’t do around here.”
Wizard Fenworth marched around the table. His staff hit the wooden floor with resounding thuds. He certainly didn’t appear to be an old man leaning on a walking stick. He looked more like a warrior approaching the front line.
Chief Councilman Meiger stepped back, but only one step. He squared his shoulders and visibly mastered his trepidation. Kale suppressed the urge to mindspeak to her former master. She wanted to say, “Good show!” but knew a voice in his head would completely discombobulate him.
Fenworth towered over the marione men, and Kale thought he’d deliberately added a few inches to his stature. His hat, the point of which never stood straight up, brushed the rafters.
“You dare oppose me. Do you know who I am? I am Fenworth, bog wizard. Do you think to cast me and my party out of your lowly establishment?”
Councilman Meiger’s face hardened. “Yes, we’ll not be bullied, whether you be bog wizard or king.”
Fenworth growled, and this time Kale knew for sure he was casting a spell, for his hat pressed against the blackened beams of the ceiling. The marione men tilted their heads back to look up at the enraged wizard. But none of them faltered. If anything, they looked more stubborn and ill-tempered than before.
Fenworth growled again, and a fog seeped from under the hem of his robe. It rolled across the floor, covering the worn wooden planks. “And who among you do you think can force a great and ancient wizard along with six mighty warriors to leave? Ha! Your words are empty.”
Meiger stiffened. “You can strike me down, but there be three behind me, and unseen to you are fields of workers, strong of arm and purpose. You’ll not overrun this land without a fight.”
A hiss reverberated through the room, Fen shrunk to his normal size, and the fog scudded out the open kitchen door.
Fenworth smiled at the angry mariones and nodded sagely. “Just what I wanted to hear, my good men. You’ll do.”
He put his arm around the cautious chief councilman’s shoulders and called to Dar. “Sir Dar, take these fine gentlemen into our circle of confidants. We shall need men such as these in the trying days ahead.”
Tilting his head down to Meiger, the wizard spoke out of the side of his mouth in a whisper loud enough to be heard on the streets. “Dar is an ambassador from Wittoom. A high lee general, in fact. But traveling incognito.”
Dar came forward and bowed to the men. “It is my pleasure to enlist your assistance. Your knowledge of the territory and its resources shall be invaluable.” He paused to look each one in the eye. “Shall we discuss defense strategies against the impending invasion, gentlemen?”
“Well, now!” Chief Councilman Meiger looked uncertainly at his cohorts.
“It won’t hurt to hear what he has to say,” said one.
“We could discuss it,” said another.
All four men nodded.
Chief Councilman Meiger ushered Dar and the councilmen out of the room.
Fenworth clapped his hands together. Leaves rustled as he walked back to the table.
“Now that’s done. First thing on the list for the day crossed off.” He nodded to Librettowit. “Make note of that, Wit. Number one—recruit an army. Done.”
“Why do we need an army?” asked Toopka.
Fenworth patted her on the head. She grimaced and ducked. The wizard did not seem to notice but moved on around the table. “Once we dissuade the dragons from aiding Risto,” he said, “Risto is going to be a bit put out.”
Fenworth sat down and surveyed the platters of food left over from the others’ breakfast. “Seems a bit of a sloppy way to serve a meal. But no matter. I’m starved. Feel like I haven’t eaten in days. Thought I heard a drummerbug. Turns out it was my stomach. Pass the muffins. Pass the juice. Thirsty, too. I could drink a lake. No offense intended, Cam. Cousin Cam’s a lake wizard, you know. Pass the eggs. Is that sausage?”
He bit into a muffin. “What’s next on our to-do list? Ah! I remember. Confront the wagonload of scalawags, and unmask the villain meech. Gives me a hearty appetite just thinking about it.”
Lyll passed him the butter, and as he took it, he looked at her closely.
“Don’t I know you, dear girl? No, don’t tell me. I’m excellent at remembering faces. Names are a bit of a bother. But I’ll get it. I will.”
He slathered butter on his bread, took a bite, chewed, and twisted his face in a thoughtful expression.
“Almost got it,” Fenworth announced and stabbed a sausage with his fork. He held the link aloft and waggled the fork back and forth as he thought. “Got it! Lyll of the Mountains. Married Kemry Allerion of the Hills. Some say she married beneath her, but of course, that was just nonsense.” He polished off the rest of the sausage. “Kemry is a worthy wiz. Excellent Dragon Keeper. Haven’t heard much of him lately.”
“Risto has him,” Kale blurted out.
Wizard Fenworth quit chewing and leveled a serious eye in his apprentice’s direction. He pointed his empty fork at her and used it as he would have shaken a finger.
“Tut-tut, dear Kale. Risto may think he has Kemry, but I daresay he doesn’t.”
She was surprised to see Lyll nod her head in agreement.
Fenworth fed a crumb to a bird that landed on his shoulder. “Now tell me about this expedition to Creemoor where we’re going to see who’s dropping those ugly spiders on cities.”
Librettowit harrumphed. “Already did that one, Fen.”
“Really? Did you mark it off the to-do list?”
“No.”
“Well, no wonder I didn’t remember. But I do now. Rescued lovely Lyll. Only pardon me, dear girl. Tut-tut, you weren’t looking nearly so well then as you do now. Almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Sir?” Bardon interrupted. “Can we hear what happened in Creemoor? Who was responsible, and did you catch them?”
“Most certainly.”
Bardon and the others waited expectantly. Fenworth buttered another muffin, took a big swig of purpleberry juice from a tall tankard, and smacked his lips.
Should I remind him of Bardon’s question? The trouble with Fenworth is you never know if his thinking is going to go in a straight line.
Just before Kale opened her mouth to prod the old man, he spoke, “Crim Cropper and no.”
Lyll giggled. Fenworth glared at her, but she just smiled in return, then turned to the younger members of their party. “Shall we take a walk, children?”
She pushed her chair back from the table. “It only took Bardon and Dar a couple of hours on horseback to return from where they spotted the
villains. It will take the heavy wagon a great deal longer to get here.”
She looked at Bardon. “I think I can tell you what you wish to know.”
Bardon stood abruptly, made polite excuses for leaving before the others were finished, and followed Lyll Allerion out of the building.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” asked Toopka, grabbing both Regidor’s and Kale’s hands. “She said ‘children.’ I bet that’s anyone under a couple of centuries old. Let’s go.”
46
A PEACEFUL INTERLUDE
“Kale, isn’t there a little picturesque pond close by?” Lyll pointed north. “I believe in that direction.”
“Baltzentor’s Pond,” said Kale. “It’s fed by a cold spring.”
“Ah yes, just as I remember.” Lyll set off down the street. “I can’t be sedentary for too long. I begin to age.”
She smiled at the mariones she passed and stopped to pet a friendly dog. The minor dragons flew ahead, making a beeline toward the water.
As she and her companions walked down the main street, Kale saw some of the citizens avert their eyes from the sight of a stately o’rant woman, a strange monk, and a tiny doneel. Now that Kale had traveled, she could see prejudice in her hometown.
In this region of the country, only kimens and mariones mixed. Because of the scarcity of the five remaining high races, mariones looked on them as peculiar. Most of her village friends extracted information about those who lived in the distant parts of Amara from fables and fabrications. Some didn’t even believe all the high races actually existed.
Their distrust of strangers flowed out of ancient history with no clear ties to the reality of present times. Kale tried to remember specifics about why the other races were to be shunned and could think of none.
She did know that mariones farmed well and fought well. For fourteen years, her owners drilled the significance of these virtues into Kale’s thinking. She still admired her friends for their industry and fortitude, and she now knew of other virtues.