DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [7]
Greer turned his back on his rider and strolled down to the shore. He launched into the air and headed for the northern end of the lake.
Bardon turned back to the women. “Greer will bring back fish for our dinner. I’ll drag what’s left of this snake far into the woods for scavengers to dispose of.”
He fought the urge to clear his throat before he made his next announcement. “The cabin belongs to Sir Dar, and he gave me permission to dwell in it this summer. I hope this doesn’t inconvenience you.”
Granny Kye smiled. “Not at all, my dear boy, we shall be leaving on our quest within a day or two.”
Bardon deliberately shifted his gaze away from the bright brown, knowing eyes of the emerlindian.
Not with me! he protested. He strolled into the cabin to retrieve his sword. He wouldn’t be caught unarmed again. When he came out, he nodded to the women and picked up his hunting knife and sheathed it. With the head section of the snake’s carcass in one hand and the long body in the other, he marched into the trees. His stride lengthened as he determined to banish a persistent nagging in his heart.
I am not required to do anything for these females.
3
THREE!
Bardon dragged the snake’s body farther into the woods than was necessary. With every step, he pondered the question of what his reaction should be to these two inconvenient women.
Gracious Wulder, by Sir Dar’s example, I know that when someone is in need, that need takes precedence over any personal plan. So, here I quibble. Where it would be expected to set aside a personal plan, it would be unacceptable to ignore a mandate from You. Is my sabbatical a personal plan or a divine assignment?
The snake’s body snagged on a bush, jerking Bardon to a halt. He turned and yanked. It didn’t budge. He walked back, held the lower branches back with his foot, and pulled. The bush let go, and he trudged on along the narrow path. He entered a forest glade and headed for the other side.
You and I both know that there really aren’t two choices, but only one. You wouldn’t have put this need in my path if You didn’t want me to react as You’ve taught me. I will do as You require.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Bardon unsheathed his sword at the first rumbling growl. He let the dead weight of the snake slip from his fingers and took a step backward. Crouching with his weapon ready, he looked into the cool yellow eyes of a five-foot-long mountain cat. Just within the line of trees, the animal pressed its entire body close to the ground, legs bent, ready to pounce. Golden stripes adorned the animal’s tan hide. The cat’s tufted ears lay back against its skull. With its lips pulled back, the wild beast’s snarl showed pointed teeth.
“I am really not in the mood for this, cat.”
A growl vibrated through the meadow. The cat’s tail swept back and forth across the forest floor.
“Wouldn’t you like this snake for dinner? You can have it. My treat.”
The cat stepped forward.
“Believe me, the snake would be a tastier, easier dinner.”
He inched back. The cat inched closer.
Bardon sighed. He flexed his fingers on the hilt of the sword. The weapon had been crafted by Wizard Fenworth and placed in Bardon’s hand by Paladin himself. On the occasions he’d had to use the sword, it had never failed him. Sometimes, he thought Fenworth had embedded special powers within the weapon. Other times, he thought Wulder had blessed the blade for righteousness. But killing a mountain cat over a dead snake did not seem to be a noble cause. Still, being eaten seemed less than a noble end to his career as a knight. He pulled his hunting knife out and balanced the two weapons.
Bardon’s lip twitched in humor. Greer would tell him this awkward situation was his own fault. “Never mess with a snake,” was the dragon’s creed.
“Never mess with a mountain cat” is more apropos at the moment.
Where are you, Greer?
He watched the cat as