DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [72]
“Bouncing orbs?”
“I juggle,” announced Bromptotterpindosset without a trace of embarrassment. “I learned while visiting Himber.” He cocked an eyebrow at the young squire. “You’ve heard of Himber?”
“On the Herebic continent? I have. We study geography at The Hall.” He pushed aside his annoyance that the mapmaker thought he knew nothing of the world beyond Amara. His education had been more than adequate, but he admitted he had a lot to learn. The tumanhofer would be a good source of information if he could be persuaded to open up. Bardon determined to use Sir Dar’s diplomacy and ask intelligent questions about the man’s expertise. “I thought the Himbernese were not a friendly nation.”
The mapmaker shifted his glasses up on his nose. “A little standoffish, but most people warm up to you if you express an interest in their customs.” His eyes brightened as if he shared an unspoken joke with the young squire. “They juggle to relieve stress and as a means to focus their attention during meditation. I got quite good at it, actually.”
Another orb flew between the squire and the tumanhofer. A child chased after it, bumping into the sturdy mapmaker and careening away much like one of the orbs glanced off the crates.
“Not all the orbs bounce,” said Bromptotterpindosset. “And the different patterns of the juggle, the order and color of the orbs, have significance. A fascinating study.”
“The orbs, then, are valuable?”
“Quite.”
“And you allow the children to play with them?”
The tumanhofer squared his shoulders. “In all the cultures I have studied, I have noted that children are less troublesome if they are occupied. Contented children are valuable, as is the peace that surrounds them.”
“Energy directed is energy of use.” Principle seventy. “A child on his own has only one chance in four of heading the right way.” Principle fifty-six. Bardon nodded but had little to say about peace where children were concerned.
A burst of laughter filled the cramped space.
Bardon smiled sardonically. “Peace?”
“Laughter is but one tone of peace.” Bromptotterpindosset moved to the pallet of one of the few children stricken with seasickness and offered a crust of bread. The little girl took the bread to nibble on, and the tumanhofer sat on the floor beside her, holding a small bucket and speaking quietly.
“Would you like to hear what children living in Tastendore do when the rains come?” he asked.
The child’s eyes grew big, and she nodded.
Bardon moved on to urge N’Rae to sit and sip cooled tea.
Once the clouds and wind moved on and the ship ceased rocking violently, the patients recovered. First the few stricken children found the strength to get up. Then N’Rae forced herself off her pallet. Bardon said she rose from the brink of death just because she had realized he and the tumanhofer were in charge of the children.
“We did very well without you, N’Rae,” he teased her. “None of them fell overboard, and all of them are still well fed and clean.”
She snorted. “Well fed on what? Hardtack and candy? Clean by whose standards? A grawlig’s?”
Granny Kye climbed out of the hold soon after. Holt was the last to appear, and he still looked pale. The passengers on the Tobit Grander gathered on deck to bask in the warm sun.
“Squire Bardon,” said Ahnek, “Granny Kye’s painting is finished. Come see.”
A small crowd stood behind the emerlindian sitting on her wooden stool. Bromptotterpindosset, Holt, N’Rae, and several children looked over her shoulder at the canvas on the easel, admiring her work and making enthusiastic comments.
At first, Bardon saw nothing remarkable about the seascape. But the others pointed out images blended into the more obvious forms. When looked at carefully, a cloud became a hand releasing a flock of birds. A wave curled over a finger. The ship rested in a giant palm. Light seemed to radiate from a fingertip touching the sun. Bardon blinked, and the hidden images disappeared. He concentrated, and they came