Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [102]
The two young slaves continued to eye Fenworth with skeptical frowns.
“Come,” said Kale, “I’ll help you with your chores. You’re behind now.”
Cakkue scowled at her. “How do you know what we have to get done?”
She laughed. “I’m Kale. I used to be the village slave here.”
With that announcement, both girls relaxed.
“Then I’d like the help,” said the elder. She moved to pull silverware from a drawer. “It’s because you left that we got to be village slaves. At first, they almost didn’t take us, because there are two of us, and they said the village was only pros-per-ous”—she took care to pronounce each syllable correctly—“enough to support one.”
Yonny nodded. “Everyone knows about you. You found a dragon egg. You’re famous. I’d rather be here than be famous.”
“You wanted to be the slaves here?” Kale asked.
Yonny nodded again. “We have a home. You don’t have a home, do you?”
Before Kale could answer, the older sister explained.
“Yes, we want to live here,” said Cakkue. “This is much better than starving out on the farm. Our ma and da died, and we only had one big brother to look after us. As soon as he saw us settled here, he went to work on another place. He knows a lot, but not enough to run an entire farm on his own. We couldn’t keep up the rent.”
Cakkue gave the silverware and cloth napkins to her little sister. Yonny expertly wrapped a fork and a spoon in each square.
Cakkue went behind the bar to the crockery cabinet and set plates and bowls on the counter. Kale brought out mugs and tankards.
“So you like it here?” asked Kale.
“Sure,” said Yonny. “We get to eat.”
“And,” said Cakkue, “we’re learning how to do things for ourselves. Ma died before she could teach me how to do things around the house. When I get married, I won’t shame my family.”
Kale watched as the girls did the same chores she’d done many times. She helped where she could, but the simple tasks didn’t need three people.
Yonny polished the window glass as Cakkue put another log on the fire. Both of them passed the tree and the minor dragons on tiptoe.
“I’ll be free to marry,” said Cakkue, “as soon as I’m sixteen.” She brushed the palms of her hands over her apron to remove the dirt she’d picked up from the log. Kale noticed old fabric patched the worn material of her apron.
A shadow darkened the room. Kale turned to see what blocked the sun. Regidor stood in the doorway and beckoned. In his monk robes, he looked like a dark specter with the sun blazing behind him. Yonny gasped and scuttled next to her big sister.
The minor dragons raced through the air to greet him.
“He’s harmless too,” said Kale as she moved across the room to follow Regidor. Before she stepped outside, she heard Cakkue speak in a loud whisper.
“Strangers! Lately we’re overrun by strangers.”
Yonny replied, “It wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t such strange strangers.”
Dibl did a flip and landed on Regidor’s shoulder. Both dragons, meech and minor, laughed at Yonny’s reaction to them.
Kale caught up to Regidor and matched his long stride.
“Did you meet your mother, Kale?” he asked.
“Yes, I think I did.”
“What did that girl mean when she said she would be free to marry?”
“Slaves are only kept until they’re sixteen. By then it’s supposed that they’ve been trained to lead a life without being supported by the village.”
“When you talked of being a slave, you never mentioned this.”
“Well, the idea is that a slave girl would marry. I never thought any of the marione young men would be interested in me.”
“You could have gone to a city.”
Kale shrugged. “I suppose.”
“So if you had remained a slave, next year when you’re sixteen, you would’ve been freed. Now you’re a servant to Paladin, and next year you’ll still be a servant to Paladin, still sent on quests.”
“I can choose to do something else, Regidor. Paladin explained that to me.”
“But you will still be a servant to Paladin?”
“Yes, always. Once you have pledged to follow him, you’re his servant, no matter what you do in life.”
“This is an interesting concept. Do you look forward