DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [47]
They shook their heads.
“Understandable. It is a difficult language to speak…easier to read. Do any of you read meech?”
Again negative shakes of heads met his question.
Bromptotterpindosset grinned. The smile—a set of teeth that were big, white, and numerous—separated his mustache-laden upper lip from the beard dripping off his chin. Bardon couldn’t remember ever seeing a grin so magnificently absurd.
“Then I must inform you that most certainly, without a doubt, it will be necessary for you to take upon your journey to the Northern Reach someone who does speak and read meech. Fortunately, I know of someone who is capable of both these endeavors. And it just so happens that he is in the position to do some extensive traveling at this time.”
“Ha!” Grupnotbaggentogg threw back his head and echoed his own exclamation. “Ha! So you’re off for the cure, eh, Bromp? Well, just remember your age and try to get back in three or four years. You’re not as young as you used to be, even if you are a generation or two behind me.”
16
TOO MANY PEOPLE
Jue Seeno did not like the addition of the tumanhofer mapmaker to the questing party. And she said so as soon as they sequestered themselves in the room taken at the inn for N’Rae and Granny Kye.
Bardon felt uncomfortable in the tiny guest chamber. The agitated women all talked at once. The emerlindians’ voices bounced off the low ceiling, and the squeak of Jue Seeno’s tirade punctuated every pause.
The last inn had provided a spacious room with a sizable sitting area adjacent to the sleeping quarters. This room had only the bed and one chair, with no room for N’Rae’s pacing up and down. She gestured wildly as she talked, her arms whirling about as she alternately expressed enthusiasm and dismay. Bardon found a place to plant himself, hopefully out of the way. He stood at the foot of the bed, one hand wrapped around a pillar of the gigantic four-poster. N’Rae insisted that the whole quest would be so much safer with another male along. As she brought both arms above her head and swung them out and down to indicate just how greatly this concept encompassed their venture, she came within an inch of poking Bardon’s eye out.
He fumed. It’s the bed! This room should have a bed half this size. And that girl should have a hall, a long empty hall, in Castle Pelacce in which to express her views.
N’Rae sashayed by him once more, knocking him with an elbow. He leaned closer to the post.
Impractical bed to put in such a tiny room!
The younger emerlindian had placed Jue Seeno’s basket in the middle of the mattress as soon as they entered the room and the door to the hall was closed. She’d opened the top, helped her tiny protector out, and closed the lid. The outraged minneken stood on her traveling abode, waving her fist in the air.
Granny Kye, of course, sat in the chair.
The afternoon sun streamed through a window, and a chill breeze blew the white curtains about, but the heated oratory in the confined space made the room extremely unpleasant. Bardon sought a reason to escape, even as he appeared to listen attentively to all three women.
Mistress Seeno’s agitated voice rose to his ears.
“First, we have that marione farm boy snooping around—”
“Holt has been very useful,” Granny Kye cut in.
“But why? Why has he been useful?” shrieked the minneken.
“Because he’s been brought up well?” The old emerlindian looked to N’Rae, who nodded her head. The young woman went to the window and parted the curtain to stare out at the street.
Jue Seeno waved her arm in the air, and, for a moment, Bardon pictured her brandishing a shining sword. “We don’t need an adventure-seeking tumanhofer nor a ne’er-do-well marione muddling up our perfectly respectable quest. The boy is an inconvenience. The mapmaker is a disaster.”
“Jue…” Granny Kye’s low voice contrasted to the frantic squeak of the minneken. She spoke rapidly, and enthusiasm shone in her eyes. “The mapmaker is a necessity, and the farmer