DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [131]
“Besides,” Wizard Lyll had said, “the twirl is invigorating, and you need that rush right before entering your more challenging situations.”
Before her moonbeam cape stopped swaying from the spin, Kale looked at her companions and said, “Anything you need to tell me before we get this rescue underway?”
“You’re a little too enthusiastic, Kale,” said Bardon. “Try to remember we’re in a life-or-death situation.”
Regidor just winked and gestured for them to follow him. They skulked behind a wall made up of stone and almost hidden by vegetation. The minor dragons either rode on Kale or flew beside her. Except Pat. Pat trudged through the grass, kicking up bugs and eating them. Regidor held up a hand for them to stop. He pointed to the other side of the wall.
Kale peeked through the shrubbery wrapped around and over the stones. Most of the grawligs sat or reclined in clusters. Big pots garnered all their attention. They ate cooked meat with their fingers, smacking their lips and squabbling occasionally over the next piece. An untidy stack of bones to the side of the lawn gave evidence that a buck had provided the meal.
A few of the mountain ogres leaned against trees or statues. Statuary seemed to have overrun the place. Several grawligs, who appeared to be some kind of beaten-down, low servants, passed among the others, handing out raw fruits and vegetables.
A very disgruntled tumanhofer sat, bound hand and foot, with his back to a stake. Two sturdy ropes wrapped around his chest and the wooden pole. Another thinner rope secured his neck to the same stake. Two additional ropes looped his neck like leashes and were held by a pair of massive grawligs as if he were a dog.
“We’ve come to rescue you.” She saw him jerk slightly as her words entered his thoughts.
“Who are you?”
“Kale Allerion of The Bogs, Dragon Keeper and Wizard.”
“Well, I hope you’re a mighty warrior as well. These grawligs are brutes.”
“Squire Bardon and Wizard Regidor are with me. They’re well noted for their fighting skills.”
“Two warriors? There are nearly a hundred grawligs in this encampment. Where’s the guard Sir Dar sent to escort us?”
Kale turned to Bardon. “Your tumanhofer wants to know where the guard is.”
Protecting the rest of our party.
“Granny Kye and N’Rae?”
And the others. Oh, I didn’t mention the others, did I?
A shout erupted from a group of grawligs. Two of them stood and growled at each other. One threw his fistful of meat down. The other stepped closer and smashed his grease-covered hand into the first grawlig’s face.
Kale just had time to say “uh-oh” before all the grawligs jumped to their feet and began pounding one another.
One of the grawligs holding the mapmaker’s ropes stepped toward the fracas.
“Hey!” yelled the other. “You can’t go. You stay here and watch him.” He thrust a thick finger at Bromptotterpindosset.
“You stay!” The grawlig turned and beat his chest with one fist. “I am Bor-bor clan. I fight Nastrek.” He hurled the end of the rope at the other.
The grawlig grunted when the rope flailed across his face. “I Nastrek clan,” he roared, dropping his rope and lunging at the other grawlig.
“Very good time to retrieve our mapmaker,” said Bardon. He and Regidor vaulted over the wall.
Kale stood up and lifted the hood of her cape to cover her head. She whistled the call of a night bird as an alert and commanded, “Dragons, spit in the eye of any grawlig who sees us.”
Regidor and Bardon had been spotted. Five grawligs, who evidently weren’t as determined to defend the honor of their clans, had blocked the warriors in their charge to rescue the tumanhofer.
The minor dragons flew to help. They spit sticky, caustic saliva into the faces of the enemy. When the substance struck an eyeball, the grawlig would double over and howl. Unfortunately, this attracted the attention of those who had not been attacking