DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [97]
“Why didn’t they fight?” asked Ahnek.
“Because they believe in a better way.”
“What better way?”
Sittiponder shrugged and then grinned. “I don’t know. It’s just called the better way.”
“Who tells you these things, son?” asked Bromptotterpindosset.
“The voices.”
The older tumanhofer adjusted his glasses higher on his round nose. “Do you hear the voices all the time?”
“Not so much since we’ve been traveling. I think I am too tired at night to listen properly. And we are too busy during the day for me to sit and listen.” He sniffed the air. “Supper is almost ready. Fried fish. Holt caught them.”
The boys hurried off to the cooking fire. The mapmaker put away his precious book and scrolls. He and Bardon joined the others around the campfire. The squire frowned as he saw that N’Rae sat on the same log with Holt. On the ground at their feet, Jue Seeno sat at her table, which was set up on the flat lid of her basket.
Bardon got his plate, filled with fish and cooked wild ostal greens, and perched on a square parcel on the other side of the young emerlindian girl. He didn’t speak but silently said a word of thanks to Wulder.
He looked down at N’Rae’s most diligent chaperone. Mistress Seeno sipped tea from a tiny cup. His eyes roamed over the rest of their questing party. Not far away, Granny Kye sat with the boys and did not once look to see if her charge was up to mischief. Bardon cast a sideways glare at Holt and began to eat.
The marione acknowledged the squire’s presence with a brief nod. His handsome face held a look of congeniality, his eyes a sparkle of merriment. He chewed and swallowed.
“N’Rae, do the fish speak to you?”
“No.”
“But I thought you could talk with any animal, even a chicken.”
“You don’t understand. None of the animals talk. They use images to relay their thoughts, not words.”
“None of the animals use words?”
“Dogs and cats use a mixture of pictures and a limited vocabulary. Ropma do the same but possess quite a few more words to express themselves.” N’Rae stirred the grain porridge with her fork. “A lot of emotion comes through as a dog communicates. Cats are different. I think that cats actually have a much wider command of words than they let on.”
“Humph,” said Jue Seeno.
“What was that, little mistress?” asked Holt.
“Oh, don’t tease her, Holt,” scolded N’Rae. “You know she doesn’t like to be called ‘little mistress.’ And she said she doesn’t care for cats. They think too highly of themselves.”
“So dogs, cats, and ropma use words?” Holt focused his attention back on N’Rae.
Bardon watched her blush, the color clear even in the flickering light of campfire.
She nodded. A few yards from where they sat, Sittiponder leaned forward, his attention on the conversation.
“How about birds?” asked Holt.
“Pictures.”
“And other animals? Pigs?”
“Surprisingly clear images. Quite a few words.”
“Horses and kindias?”
“About the same, except horses think deliberately, and kindias’ thoughts move in rapid changes of pictures.”
“Dragons?”
“Dragons are not animals, Holt.”
“They aren’t?” He grinned. “Then what are they, fair lady?”
“They are a race from somewhere else,” Sittiponder answered abruptly. “They came through a dark hole. Many creatures swarmed at their feet, fleeing whatever was beyond that hole. But not all the smaller creatures adapted to our climate and our food.”
Holt looked up, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “I suppose the voices told you this.”
Sittiponder shrank back a little at his tone. “Yes,” he said meekly.
Jue Seeno abandoned her table and scooted up N’Rae’s leg to sit on her knee. She spoke to the girl, and Bardon almost caught the gist of what she said but was too far away to hear properly.
“Oh!” said N’Rae. “Mistress Seeno wishes me to tell you that there is a legend on the Isle of Kye that would correspond to what Sittiponder just said. She says that the minnekens came with the dragons. The meech