DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [86]
Bardon nodded and walked out into the massive hall. Clumps of people stood in the hall. Always the hangers-on seemed to know exactly which room Dar occupied. If the doors were closed, implying he did not wish to be disturbed, they waited in the immediate vicinity. Bardon had little patience with these people. But Dar treated them well, with the same genteel courtesy and respect he extended to everyone.
Even me. I’m one of the ones Sir Dar treats with respect, though I don’t deserve it. Why do I begrudge the grace that falls on these cadgers when I deserve no better and receive so much more?
Bardon nodded to people as he passed them. He saw the spark of curiosity in their eyes. They’re wondering why I have returned so quickly.
Then he saw it, a quick glance directly at his ears, accompanied by a start. The woman unfurled her fan, and from behind this small screen, whispered to another in her group. Bardon fought to keep his hand from smoothing the hair into place, hiding his points. I haven’t used the pomade for a long time. In just a few weeks I forgot the necessity. I came immediately to find Sir Dar before washing away my travel dirt and making myself presentable. But their stares are not for my disheveled appearance. It’s my ears that draw their snickers.
A buzz followed him, and he deliberately kept his pace even and unhurried. Hot anger roiled in his chest. So I was not wrong after all. It is not only petty rich boys in a secluded private school who torment those who are different.
Sir Dar manages to treat them with civility. I shall do as well as Greer does under similar circumstances and promise not to eat them.
29
THE LOVELY N’RAE
Squire Bardon traversed the length of the castle, using corridors he had roamed for much of the three years he spent under Sir Dar’s tutelage. During the long walk, he found an empty room and ducked inside. In the privacy of this unused classroom, he ran his fingers through his hair, covering his ears. He wet his fingers from a pitcher of water on the master’s desk, then patted the hair down in the style he had abandoned since leaving for his sabbatical.
With a chary look both ways, he reentered the corridor. Deserted halls attested that classes had ended for the day. As he hurried through the wing that housed a small college, Scribe Moran appeared out of a classroom and headed his way.
Great! I haven’t thought of a principle all day. I couldn’t run through a girder exercise right now if I tried. I haven’t bothered to support each action with a principle for weeks.
“Bardon!” said Scribe Moran with surprise. “I didn’t know you had returned. You’ve made your decision so soon? Odd, I would have thought you were one to take the entire year.”
“I have not started my sabbatical, Master.” Bardon stopped beside the tumanhofer scholar. “I ran across two women who needed assistance. We are on a quest.”
“Ah,” said the short, round man as he stroked his gray beard. “And you have come to enlist Sir Dar?”
“That would have been convenient, but no, I somehow ended up with a ragtag bunch of orphans and needed a place of sanctuary for them.”
“You’ve found that sanctuary with Sir Dar?”
“Yes, Master.”
“And your quest?”
“We continue tomorrow.”
The tumanhofer scribe patted Bardon’s arm. “You say you haven’t started your sabbatical. I wouldn’t be so sure of that, my boy.”
He chuckled, bent his head, and resumed his shuffle down the corridor.
Now, what did that mean? A sabbatical is supposed to be a time of reflection. I certainly haven’t had time to think about what I’m going to do with my life. At least he didn’t ask me to run through today’s girder.
Bardon went to his room in a foul mood, bathed, dressed, and groomed his hair. Before he ventured out again, he looked in the mirror and made sure his hair covered his ears.
Imagine Librettowit getting married. His face relaxed. And Dar may be able to reach Regidor and send him to join us. He smiled. And Kale is beautiful and talented. I knew that. His lips parted, and his eyes turned into half moons with laugh wrinkles radiating