DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [67]
“Yes, that too.”
“Granny Kye, I hereby bestow upon you the charge of these children.”
The emerlindian’s smile grew wider.
“But—,” said Bardon.
“You,” interrupted Magistrate Inkleen, “are a resourceful young man. You’ll manage.” He stood. “There now, that is settled. I wish you a pleasant journey.” The man left.
Bardon’s posture remained rigid as he recounted the children.
N’Rae picked up one of the smallest urchins.
Holt leaned against the wall and howled with laughter.
23
SAILING
The children all wore bright red or yellow shirts. The girls wore blue skirts. The boys wore tan britches. Most of them raced hither and yon over the deck of the Tobit Grander. N’Rae, who had never been on an ocean-going vessel, seemed to think they were all in imminent danger of falling overboard. Granny Kye, who had chosen the outfits so the children could be easily spotted, seemed to think that no disaster could befall her charges. Bardon stood somewhere in the middle of the two views.
Granny Kye sat on the deck, holding the baby and watching the activity around her with glowing eyes. N’Rae held the hands of two small children and roamed the deck, urging the boys to be more cautious. Holt had looked over the situation and decided the mapmaker would be a better companion than anyone who remotely had anything to do with children. The marione and the tumanhofer sought the ship’s navigator and the blessed peace and quiet of studying maps.
As the ship rounded the last point of land and moved into the open sea, the wind caught the sails with a snap. N’Rae and some of the girls squealed. As the sails billowed, cracking with each shift, the young emerlindian gathered the more timid children and hustled them down below.
A seaman hollered at another lad, snatched him from off the rigging, and none too gently shoved him down the hatch. Bardon caught two younger boys and dragged them below.
As he passed the captain, he said, “There are five older boys left on deck. I won’t object to any duties you assign them.”
The captain grinned, tipped his hat, and nodded. “I’ll see to it right away.” He continued through the passageway with a light step, whistling a sea ditty.
Ignoring the pleas for freedom from his captives, Bardon watched the captain’s departure.
You’ve got to admire that man. He took on a party of four that expanded overnight to twenty-one. He doesn’t seem to be weighed down one bit by the extra bother. Of course, his purse is heavier and mine quite a bit lighter. That could be the source of his contentment.
Bardon trudged deeper into the bowels of the ship, hauling his recalcitrant burdens. He had marched with outstretched arms while holding weighted bags as one of the exercises for sword training. The torture produced muscular arms and stamina. Bardon thought he might write a letter to his old sword master, suggesting they substitute squirming boys for the heavy bags.
The ship could not provide cabin space for so many. Between bales of cotton, barrels of blackstrap molasses, and crates of fruit, Granny Kye had arranged pallets. She and N’Rae intended to sleep here with the children. Toward the back, she had the older boys push together a pen of sorts, made out of bits and pieces of cargo. Here she kept the goat she’d acquired to give milk for the baby.
Bardon glanced at the goat and her crowd of admirers. One raven-haired little o’rant girl brushed the nanny. An older, heavily freckled marione girl handfed her. Another girl, a tumanhofer, had her arms draped around the gray animal’s neck and appeared to be singing in the goat’s ear.
That’s going to be one spoiled nanny goat by the time we dock in Annonshan.
He set the boys on their feet, and they scrambled toward the hatch ladder. Bardon snatched the backs of their shirts, twisting them around to look him in the eyes. “You are forbidden to be on deck until further notice. If you behave, I’ll take you up myself. If you don’t, you won’t see the sun or the moon and stars again until