Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [66]
Bardon tossed Toopka into Kale’s lap, grabbed the top edge of the open window at his side, and slithered out of the crowded coach, climbing to the roof.
His voice came down to them, loud and clear.
“Three o’rant females and a male marione driver. The women are dressed like landed gentry.”
“We must stop,” announced Dar. “Kale and Toopka, up on the roof with you. Can’t have the lower servants riding in the coach. Young Dibl, remember you are to stay out of sight.”
Kale pushed Toopka through the window and up to Bardon’s waiting hands, then crawled out, clambering to lie on the luggage.
Bruit pulled back on the reins, saying, “Steady, Romer. We’re gonna stop for a minute or two and see what these folks need.” The horse leaned back against the breeches. The harness jangled.
Kale stared at the fancy carriage, shiny black with yellow wheels. The roof had been lowered to allow the passengers to enjoy the pleasant autumn afternoon. Two young women perched in the seat facing forward. An older lady roosted in the matching seat that faced the rear of the vehicle. The driver sat in the dirt beside a wheel, mending a strip of leather.
The youngest of the ladies lifted a hand in greeting. Kale almost responded before she remembered her place as a servant. Although she couldn’t hear the words spoken, Kale recognized when the oldest woman voiced a strong reprimand. The younger girl bit her lip and lowered her head.
Kale explored their thoughts to determine whether this was another ambush.
The mother’s mind listed household details that were being ignored because of their delay in returning from afternoon social calls.
The oldest girl bubbled with delight that the exceedingly boring day had ended with an encounter with a splendid man, obviously the household sheridan. This sheridan’s amazingly handsome face made her heart flutter.
Kale blinked twice when she realized the young lady was batting her eyelashes at Bardon.
The younger sister, too, found Bardon attractive, so attractive that she could only peek up at him. With each glance, she blushed and demurely looked down to her gloved hands folded in her lap. She hoped their mother would invite the party to their manor so she could watch him all evening long.
Kale studied her companion. Bardon’s frame was long and lean, a little taller than the average o’rant. His muscles bulged under the simple garment of a servant. His face held his usual reserved expression. His clear blue eyes under dark eyebrows were startling, but Kale thought they too often looked aloof, not friendly at all. But to be fair, she admitted Bardon had warmed up lately.
Romer slowed and stopped beside the landau. Dar jumped down from the carriage and held the door for Librettowit to descend.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Librettowit bowed. “Trevithick Librettowit at your service. May we be of assistance?”
The oldest woman spoke. “The breeching came loose in the harness. Our driver will have it right in short order.”
The driver had risen to his feet as Dar and Librettowit approached. He tipped his hat to the men.
Kale transferred her attention to the thoughts of the driver. His mind was on the impossibility of reconnecting the rotted leather in his hands. Kale conveyed that information to Librettowit.
“Ahem!” said the tumanhofer, looking over to the frustrated driver. “May I have our driver assist? Perhaps we have a piece of leather to graft into the harness.”
The older o’rant woman looked to her driver. He nodded, and she looked back at Librettowit.
“Very well.”
Bruit handed the reins to Bardon and climbed down from his perch. Kale felt the coach rock as the man shifted from one position to another, but she also felt Regidor move within the carriage after their driver’s feet were on the ground. She suspected he sat by the partially opened small door that allowed the driver to speak to those inside the carriage.
It took some time for the two drivers to improvise the connection