DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [78]
“I’m going after them,” he told the driver. “Would you unsaddle my dragon and give him a rubdown? He’ll find his own food.” Bardon folded the sketch and put it into his pocket. “I’ll be back with them. Don’t—”
“I know,” said the driver. “Don’t leave.”
Bardon nodded. “I’ll be back.”
He started for the cliff. Greer’s comment entered his thoughts but did not stop him. He scoffed at the dragon’s concern.
I know they said they’d come back and didn’t. That doesn’t mean I can’t handle whatever it is that has delayed them. Don’t be such a worry worm. I’ll find them, and I will be back.
He waded through the high grass and, like the driver, could see where the blades had been beaten down by many feet all headed in the same direction. He rounded the bushes and stopped in front of the rock surface. The gateway’s frame shimmered within the stone.
It’s not that hard to see. Why didn’t the driver notice?
“It’s about time you got here.” A high-pitched voice reprimanded him.
He spotted Jue Seeno sitting on a small ledge. She must have just moved because he could see her even with the moonbeam cape wrapped around her. Her furry feet dangled off the side, and she held a parasol over her head. As she glared at him without moving, all but her face and feet began to blend into the rock wall.
The parasol must be made out of the moonbeam fabric as well.
She stood, threw her moonbeam cape back over her shoulders, and dusted off the shiny fur above and below the intricate belt she wore. “They’re in trouble, but between the two of us, we’ll be able to extricate them.”
“What kind of trouble?” asked Bardon.
“Bisonbecks. Landed right in the middle of a bisonbeck military encampment. Well, not actually in the middle, but to the side. Then they were captured and taken to what the beasts are using for a bailiwick.”
“Perhaps we should get reinforcements.”
“No time.” The minneken pulled her sword from her garish orange and purple belt and brandished it. The thin blade of the rapier glinted in the sun as she swished it back and forth. “They’re talking of taking them to Crim Cropper.”
“How many bisonbecks are we up against?”
“Only ten.”
Bardon had fought bisonbecks on several occasions. The brutes stood more than six feet tall, muscled like the giant cats of the forest and thick-skinned like the vicious, toothy reptiles in the rivers of the southern continent. With massive heads, bulky necks, and meaty fists, they were made for fighting. Smarter than grawligs, they formed the evil wizards’ army.
“We’ll go scout out the situation,” said Bardon, “and then decide how to proceed.”
“Precisely.” With amazing agility, the little minneken scampered down the wall and stood before the gateway. “There’s a guard on the other side. I’ll go first and prepare the way. Count to ten and follow. I’ll have him distracted, doubled over, and wondering what hit him.”
Before Bardon could protest, Jue Seeno stepped into the gateway.
26
PLANS TO RESCUE
“Count to ten!” Bardon exploded. “You’ll prepare the way?” He drew his sword. “What kind of a crazy minneken are you?”
He charged through the gateway without his usual trepidation and emerged to find a six-and-a-half-foot, three-hundred-pound bisonbeck in uniform on his knees, doubled over, wailing, and holding his ear. Jue Seeno scaled Bardon’s leg, jumped to his arm, and scampered to his shoulder.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “Go through those trees. His comrades will be coming from the opposite direction.”
The wounded soldier never looked up. Bardon sidestepped around the collapsed bisonbeck and slipped into the forest. The woodland insects made more noise than he did as he moved swiftly into deep foliage. He’d always excelled in this particular training exercise. Even back in his youth, when all the scholars escorted their pupils to the mountains for several weeks at a time, he’d taken to the woods. None of the other boys at The Hall had ever been able to find him when they played their catch-and-evade games.
He crouched and went