DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [124]
“You sound as if you have studied them.”
“Oh, we have. Wizard Cam Ayronn and I are writing a book on the mores and cultural structure of the lower races. Of course, so far our studies have only encompassed grawligs, ropma, and bisonbecks.”
“Of course.” Bardon couldn’t contain the smile that broke out on his face. He knew he’d missed any chance he had of appearing serious.
Regidor spotted his smirk and returned a haughty stare. The coldness of the meech dragon’s expression melted into a toothy grin. “Never mind, dear Bardon. You were not designed by Wulder to be an academician like Librettowit or Wizard Cam. You were not meant to be debonair like Sir Dar, or persistently friendly like N’Rae, or obnoxiously inquisitive like Ahnek.”
“What was I meant to be, Regidor?”
“You don’t know?”
“You know I don’t. I’ve always known you see right through me. I don’t particularly understand why you still choose to be my friend.”
Regidor now scanned the sky as if he expected to see something. “I suppose you’re talking about the facade you have created that gives the impression of being all-sufficient.”
The smile dropped from Bardon’s face. He now had the serious expression he had wanted a moment ago to tease his friend.
“I don’t know that Wulder made me with what it takes to be a knight, Regidor. My sabbatical was important. I needed to know if I had enough in me to fulfill the vow I would make to Paladin to follow Wulder.”
Regidor leaned against a parapet and crossed his forelegs over his chest. “You are saying that Wulder made a mistake when He designed you?”
“No, of course not.” Bardon looked away from his friend’s scrutiny and examined the western sky. The sun hovered over the horizon, displaying a red blaze of last-minute glory as it disappeared. “Of course it is I who am at fault. I have failed to recognize what Wulder wants me to do. I try to be something that is not in my nature to be.”
He glanced back at his friend. The meech rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. “You have failed to recognize that Wulder wants you to be the knight that is Sir Bardon, not Sir Dar. You are not like any of the heroes of our last quest. You are you.”
Bardon looked away again.
Regidor came and put his hand on Bardon’s shoulder. “You have also failed to recognize that Wulder fills you with what you need when you need it. What is within you at this moment is not sufficient to meet a need that will not arise until forty years hence.”
The squire did not answer. Regidor’s words sounded as if they might apply to someone else but not to Bardon.
Regidor clapped him on the shoulder. “Here comes my messenger.”
Startled, Bardon looked to where Regidor pointed. A moonbird winged toward them and landed on the same parapet the meech had been leaning against. Bardon had seen kimens smaller than this large bird, whose feathers glowed white with an under-color of gray. Its head swiveled as it looked with piercing golden eyes, first at Regidor, then at Bardon, and back to the dragon. Its yellowish orange talons spread across the rock of the castle. It snapped its large beak together as if asking Regidor a question.
Regidor gazed into the beautiful creature’s eyes for a long moment.
I don’t suppose I should interrupt his commune with his bird friend, Bardon thought, but speaking of messages, it would be convenient to send a message to our party. “Good news—we’ve found the knights and our mapmaker.”
I should tell Captain Anton to hold on for one more day. Technically, he should head back with our party in the morning. But we may be back with Bromptotterpindosset by midday.
Regidor touched the moonbird lightly on the chest, and then the creature flew away.
“Who was the message to?” asked Bardon.
“Captain Anton. Actually, it will go to N’Rae, who will relay it to Captain Anton.”
“And the message said we have found the knights and should return tomorrow sometime with our missing tumanhofer.” Bardon’s anger hummed