Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [12]
Kale’s eyes sought the face of the wise emerlindian chancellor. Surely he understood that Bardon would take this order to leave Vendela as punishment.
Grand Ebeck showed no awareness of her outrage or Bardon’s dismay. The high chancellor picked up his book. He paged through the volume, stopping to scan an entry and then moving on.
Her eyes went back to Bardon. A red flush stained his pale cheeks. Black eyebrows drew together over those blue eyes that so often looked cold and distant. A muscle in his square jaw worked, and Kale suspected his teeth were clenched like a bodoggin’s grip on his next meal.
High Chancellor Grand Ebeck made his next pronouncement without even looking at either o’rant.
“You aren’t ready to go on, Lehman Bardon.”
Kale heard Bardon’s sharp intake of breath. Oh no! He hadn’t known he didn’t qualify.
“There is nothing more we can do for you here. You might as well make yourself useful to Wizard Fenworth for the time being.”
She chafed at the high chancellor’s words. That’s just cruel. Granny Noon would never have been so mean. Maybe men who are grands aren’t as kind as women. I don’t think Grand Ebeck’s so terribly wise after all.
His voice droned on. “Perhaps in a year or two you can reapply for candidacy.”
Oh, that’s nice! She couldn’t help the sarcasm spicing her thoughts. She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from saying something she shouldn’t. She could feel Metta and Gymn turning around and around restlessly in their pocket-dens. They always picked up on her emotions, and she on theirs. If she didn’t tamp down her anger, they might come out hissing and stomping and ready to fight.
Librettowit came to her side and put his hand on the arm that held Toopka.
“Go pack your belongings. Meet me at the entry to Trell Tower before the next chime of hourly bells.”
With a wrinkled brow, she tried to determine the sense of such a command. “We aren’t going to the dragon field? Celisse is not taking us back to The Bogs?”
Librettowit shook his head. “I came through a gateway. We’ll be home again in Fenworth’s castle this afternoon.”
“But Celisse—”
“—will fly to join you.” He patted her arm. “Don’t worry so, Kale. We will have a pleasant summer. Studying, training, good company, good music, good food. No quests, no adventures, just the camaraderie of intelligent, reasonable, compatible people. Once you have Regidor in hand, life will be comfortable once more.”
Dar cleared his throat. “Sounds idyllic.”
She had known Dar long enough to read the caution in his eyes. She wanted to quiz him, but the high chancellor interrupted.
“Well now,” he said, “we all have things to do. Leecent Dar, I wish to have a word with you. Lehman Bardon, you will also need to pack and meet with Kale and Librettowit. Off with you now.” He gestured with a dark, wrinkled hand toward the door.
The door behind them opened even though the footman could not have heard their dismissal. He jumped to bow them out.
Bardon inclined his head to Grand Ebeck and said, “Good day.”
The high chancellor nodded absent-mindedly and murmured the correct response. Carrying Toopka, Kale followed the lehman out of the room.
As soon as the door closed, she hurried to catch up to Bardon.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He didn’t slow his pace. “For what?”
“That you don’t get to begin your apprenticeship.”
“Wulder’s timing is best.”
“That’s what people say when they don’t understand why things happen.” She wanted to tell him about Paladin’s explanation to her of Wulder’s perfect timing. She believed the saying was true, not just a platitude.
She opened her mouth, eager to relate the images Paladin had put before her, but Bardon’s gruff voice pushed her enthusiasm aside. “That’s what people say to help them accept what has happened. It works, Leecent Kale. Excuse me. I have a lot to do.”
He quickened his pace and left Kale trailing behind.
“He’s mad,” said Toopka.