DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [153]
Bardon grinned in response to Greer’s sudden elation. Yes, Kale is here…Utterly beautiful…“Utterly” is a suitable word to use with beautiful…All right, then. She’s looking extremely well…That’s not good, either? It would solve the problem of what she looks like if I just call her. Wait a moment, and you can see for yourself.
The visit with Kale lifted the dejected dragon’s spirits in an amazing way, but Bardon had to see to details among his charges. He could not stay to enjoy his two best friends’ company.
During the early morning, Captain Anton and his men took their bows and arrows to hunt. They brought back several medium-sized wild heatherhens, plump birds known for their tender, juicy meat. Holt, who had risen a bit too late to accompany them, redeemed himself by locating the overrun kitchen garden. Even through years of neglect, the small patch of ground still had some produce to gather. The marione farm boy dug pnard potatoes and onions and brought in some scrawny herbs.
Bardon cocked an eye at Kale as Holt explained how he had overslept. In his mind, he heard her chortle. “Scoundrel or slugabed?”
In the afternoon, Holt and Captain Anton, with two of the guard, mounted the dragons and took off to recover the remainder of their supplies. Two guardsmen stayed behind to offer protection. They came upon a grawlig lurking around the castle and scared him off.
The dragons and riders returned at sunset. And with that event, according to Toopka, the last of any interesting activity came to a sudden end. The little doneel complained daily that no one did anything but chores and study books. The boys often escaped to explore while Toopka finished the chores Taylaminkadot had listed for her.
Granny Kye left the finished portrait of her sons propped up against a chair and moved her easel in front of Sir Kemry Allerion. She studied her subject for several minutes, then picked up her brush.
Three days later, Taylaminkadot brought a clothbound book to the Knights’ Chamber.
“It’s the housekeeper’s journal,” she said. “I looked through it, and I’ve put bits of paper in pages where she makes comments you might be interested in.”
Bardon and Librettowit opened the book on a table and read together. After a moment, the librarian looked up and smiled at his wife. “You’ve done well, my darling. This is most important information.”
Taylaminkadot blushed. “I’ll go back to my cooking now. That’s important too.”
“Risto is mentioned here,” said Bardon, pointing at a page. “Listen. ‘That wizard is here again. Master Strot likes the man, but I think it is only because the visitor promises to help him learn more about the spells affecting the body. Master Strot wants to do good, but I think this Wizard Risto is evil. I get the shivers when he looks at me.’
“Here’s another one several days later. ‘To my way of thinking, the master knows more about the workings of the human body than does this awful man who smiles and is everything that is agreeable. But still, this pleasant Wizard Risto makes me cold inside and fearful.’”
Librettowit and Bardon scanned several more pages. The librarian looked up at the waiting comrades. “The housekeeper is responsible for the missing book. She says she found her master dead in his chair. She suspected Risto killed him, and she didn’t want the book in the evil wizard’s hands.” He turned the pages back to those they had passed over quickly.
“Aha!” the librarian exclaimed, tapping an entry with a stubby finger. “Bless my little Taylaminkadot’s soul. Here’s the information we need in order to figure out exactly how long these valiant men have before it is too late to rescue them. The housekeeper is actively eavesdropping at this point. She doesn’t trust Risto. She records a conversation in which Risto says when the Wizards’ Plume that he threw into the sky