Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [110]
He slathered butter on his bread, took a bite, chewed, and twisted his face in a thoughtful expression.
“Almost got it,” Fenworth announced and stabbed a sausage with his fork. He held the link aloft and waggled the fork back and forth as he thought. “Got it! Lyll of the Mountains. Married Kemry Allerion of the Hills. Some say she married beneath her, but of course, that was just nonsense.” He polished off the rest of the sausage. “Kemry is a worthy wiz. Excellent Dragon Keeper. Haven’t heard much of him lately.”
“Risto has him,” Kale blurted out.
Wizard Fenworth quit chewing and leveled a serious eye in his apprentice’s direction. He pointed his empty fork at her and used it as he would have shaken a finger.
“Tut-tut, dear Kale. Risto may think he has Kemry, but I daresay he doesn’t.”
She was surprised to see Lyll nod her head in agreement.
Fenworth fed a crumb to a bird that landed on his shoulder. “Now tell me about this expedition to Creemoor where we’re going to see who’s dropping those ugly spiders on cities.”
Librettowit harrumphed. “Already did that one, Fen.”
“Really? Did you mark it off the to-do list?”
“No.”
“Well, no wonder I didn’t remember. But I do now. Rescued lovely Lyll. Only pardon me, dear girl. Tut-tut, you weren’t looking nearly so well then as you do now. Almost didn’t recognize you.”
“Sir?” Bardon interrupted. “Can we hear what happened in Creemoor? Who was responsible, and did you catch them?”
“Most certainly.”
Bardon and the others waited expectantly. Fenworth buttered another muffin, took a big swig of purpleberry juice from a tall tankard, and smacked his lips.
Should I remind him of Bardon’s question? The trouble with Fenworth is you never know if his thinking is going to go in a straight line.
Just before Kale opened her mouth to prod the old man, he spoke, “Crim Cropper and no.”
Lyll giggled. Fenworth glared at her, but she just smiled in return, then turned to the younger members of their party. “Shall we take a walk, children?”
She pushed her chair back from the table. “It only took Bardon and Dar a couple of hours on horseback to return from where they spotted the villains. It will take the heavy wagon a great deal longer to get here.”
She looked at Bardon. “I think I can tell you what you wish to know.”
Bardon stood abruptly, made polite excuses for leaving before the others were finished, and followed Lyll Allerion out of the building.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” asked Toopka, grabbing both Regidor’s and Kale’s hands. “She said ‘children.’ I bet that’s anyone under a couple of centuries old. Let’s go.”
46
A PEACEFUL INTERLUDE
“Kale, isn’t there a little picturesque pond close by?” Lyll pointed north. “I believe in that direction.”
“Baltzentor’s Pond,” said Kale. “It’s fed by a cold spring.”
“Ah yes, just as I remember.” Lyll set off down the street. “I can’t be sedentary for too long. I begin to age.”
She smiled at the mariones she passed and stopped to pet a friendly dog. The minor dragons flew ahead, making a beeline toward the water.
As she and her companions walked down the main street, Kale saw some of the citizens avert their eyes from the sight of a stately o’rant woman, a strange monk, and a tiny doneel. Now that Kale had traveled, she could see prejudice in her hometown.
In this region of the country, only kimens and mariones mixed. Because of the scarcity of the five remaining high races, mariones looked on them as peculiar. Most of her village friends extracted information about those who lived in the distant parts of Amara from fables and fabrications. Some didn’t even believe all the high races actually existed.
Their distrust of strangers flowed out of ancient history with no clear ties to the reality of present times. Kale tried to remember specifics about why the other races were to be shunned and could think of none.
She did know that mariones farmed well and fought well. For fourteen years, her owners drilled the significance of these virtues into Kale’s thinking. She still admired her friends for their industry and