DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [125]
Regidor’s head shot around so that the two stared at each other.
“I see,” said Regidor. “Yes, you’re in charge of this expedition. I apologize. Kale’s always onto me for being too independent. She says she will someday have me write the definition of team in a notebook a hundred times.”
The tension drained out of Bardon’s neck and shoulders. He wasn’t sure if it was Regidor’s ready apology that caused him to relax or the fact that Kale also became frustrated with the meech dragon’s occasional high-handed manner.
“Um.” Regidor uncharacteristically hesitated. “Would you like to outline our course of action?”
Bardon laughed. “Now you’re deferring to my leadership?”
Regidor nodded. “Belatedly.”
“Oh, Reg, Kale has taught you to do contrite very well.”
The meech dragon chortled and managed to look even more sheepish.
Bardon studied the activity below and then crossed to the back of the corner turret. “We’ll go down this side and meet by the garden wall. We can follow that with reasonable cover until we are within striking distance of the guards around Bromptotterpindosset. He doesn’t look injured and should be able to travel. When we get closer and see what the setup looks like from the ground, mindspeak to him and tell him what is about to happen.
“Hopefully, your sudden appearance will give us enough time to free him and escape through the front gate. You can hold them within the enclosure easily enough to give me time to get him some distance away. Then fly to join us, and we’ll determine if any further diversionary tactic is needed. Any questions or suggestions?”
Regidor’s pointed teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “You did that quite well, Squire. Are you sure you don’t have what is needed to become a knight?”
Bardon sighed and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. “This is merely delineating a course of action.”
“This,” said Regidor, “is exactly what a knight does.”
Bardon hopped up to sit on the turret wall and threw a leg over. “I’m climbing down these vines. Good-bye.”
Regidor released his wings from the tight folds he kept them in as they lay against his back. The air blew Bardon’s hair away from his face.
“And I will fly. A lot less work.”
Bardon nodded and lowered himself over the edge. Regidor took to the air and glided noiselessly into the back courtyard.
The squire put his foot on a branch, testing it. Finding it strong enough to support his weight, he began a cautious, step-by-step climb down the side of the castle. Halfway down he placed his foot on a branch that seemed to melt under his weight. He moved over to assess another branch. This vine would not bear his weight either.
Bother. I’ll have to inch back again. If I move more in this direction, I’ll be in sight of the grawligs’ little party.
He went up a ways and then scooted over the weak spot.
“Having a problem?”
Yes, Reg. Can you see the vines from where you are?
“Of course,” he answered. “I’m wondering why you are dancing around in that one spot. The vines are thick and sturdy there.”
They give under my weight.
“Odd. They shouldn’t. Put your foot on one and push it down. I’ll watch.”
Bardon reached with his foot, found a branch, and shifted his weight. This vine felt thick beneath the sole of his boot. It had given a little, but Bardon decided to trust it. Still clinging to the vines next to his chest with both hands, he moved the other foot to follow the first.
“Careful, Squire. There’s something underneath.”
That something wrapped around both ankles and jerked. The vines dissolved in his hands, and Bardon slid into a hole in the wall. An explosion of lights told him he’d entered a gateway. Pressure built up in his lungs too fast to grab a last breath to hold on to. Usually, the sensation of going through a gateway was horizontal, a matter of a few steps, and the traveler determined when those steps were taken. This gateway opened up like the top of a well. Bardon did not walk, he fell. He did not travel a few steps, but down a long tunnel of variegated lights. The atmosphere stuck to him and slowed