Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [127]
Two of the minor dragons squealed an alarm at the same moment. The other two echoed the cry. Kale whipped her head around to see what had caused their shrieking. She smelled it first, the sickening, rotten smell of a grawlig.
She pulled her sword.
Regidor roared. “Behind you, Kale.”
She heard a swishing sound. Something slammed into the back of her head, jarring her body and buckling her knees. The ground in front of her turned black with tiny bursts of light circling in erratic patterns. A rough hand grabbed her hair. She closed her eyes and managed to utter, “Help!” before total darkness took away all the pain.
52
MOTHER’S LOVE
A tender hand bathed the back of Kale’s aching head with cool water. She lay on her side in a soft bed. The linens smelled fresh. A soft pillow cradled her head.
“Is she awake yet?” The harsh voice pricked at her memory.
“I think she’s coming ’round, my lady.” Kale knew she’d never heard those mellow tones before.
“Then move, you fool.” The first voice clanged in her brain.
Who is that?
A swish of fabric and a stirring of the air told Kale that the two women had changed places. Cool fingers touched her brow.
“Kale, dear.”
Now she recognized the voice, now that the speaker used a honeyed manner to drench her words. Mother Number One.
Kale kept her eyes closed.
“Kale, dear, are you all right? We’ve rescued you from a band of grawligs.”
Did Regidor escape? Oh no! She’ll listen to my thoughts. Block. Block. Wulder block. Under Your authority. Seeking truth. Wulder protect me. My thoughts belong to me and Wulder. There, that’s it. My thoughts belong to me and Wulder.
“You are coming around, aren’t you, dear? Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of you.”
Kale opened her eyes to gaze at the beauty of the perfect face so close to her. Mother Number One definitely outshone Mother Number Two in exquisite elegance. Kale looked into the cold gray eyes and turned her head.
“Are you in pain, dear Kale? The medicine I put in the water should have eliminated any discomfort.”
“Where’s Gymn?”
“Having a resplendent supper. The others are as well. They’re in the cook’s tent. Can you sit up, dear?”
Kale struggled to rise on her elbow. “My cape?”
“Really, Kale, I haven’t stolen it. You were filthy when the men brought you to me. You have a fresh gown, and you’re clean. You could say thank you.”
“Thank you.” The cape wouldn’t be dirty. It sheds dirt. And at The Goose and The Gander, Magistrate Hyd said a moonbeam cape cannot be stolen. Where is it? “Where is it?”
“Now I know you aren’t well. Fussing over such a petty detail. The cape is in the covers with you.”
“Why?”
This impressive and autocratic Lyll Allerion stood abruptly. “Why?” Her voice shrilled. “Because the nasty thing stings anyone who tries to touch it.”
She turned to the door, her skirts rustling with the swift movement. “I have work to do. Tayla, call me when my daughter is in a better mood.”
Kale sat up and contemplated the servant. The tumanhofer looked old enough to have children but not old enough to be a grandmother. But a tumanhofer’s age was hard to determine.
“Could you bring my dragons to me?” Kale asked.
“Not and live to see tomorrow, Miss Kale.”
“I want to get dressed. Where are my clothes?”
“Burned. My lady didn’t like them. She’d have had the cape, too, but as she said we couldn’t get it.”
“My boots?”
“Burned as well.”
So I am without clothes and shoes. She pulled her knees to her chin and surveyed her very nicely furnished prison. She didn’t see an obvious means of escape. Beyond the flap of the tent, two sturdy legs stood at attention. They probably belonged