Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [70]
She concentrated on the shadowy form by the door. His thoughts were simple. Only one thing mattered at this moment to the ropma. He must follow orders.
He’s waiting for someone, Bardon.
“Who?”
That’s not clear. It’s someone he’s never seen before, and that’s hard for him. He has a very simple thought pattern.
“Who is he waiting for?”
She bit back an angry retort. It wasn’t easy plucking an answer from a mind that had only a vague notion. Instead of snapping at Bardon, she focused on the man-beast below.
Small.
Covered in hair.
Important.
Nice clothes.
Kale’s hand moved over to Bardon’s arm. Her fingers dug into his sleeve.
Bardon, he’s waiting for Dar.
29
DIRT
What should we do?
“Intercept Dar.”
Good idea.
Kale turned away from Bardon and faced the house. Not that she needed to in order to reach Dar with her mind, but Bardon always flustered her. Most of the time his cool, trained attitude reminded her that he had been in Paladin’s service since he was a child. And she hadn’t even completed three weeks of training.
Dar, where are you?
“In my chambers. Why? What’s wrong?”
There’s a ropma here in the barn waiting for you.
“He’s early.”
You’re expecting him? She turned to Bardon. He’s expecting him.
His face looked as though he’d swallowed a peppernut. “Yeah, I heard.”
Kale took a moment to gloat. So are you going to quit denying you can mindspeak?
He looked away, deliberately studying the dark form below them. “Dar, this is Bardon.”
You don’t have to tell him who you are. He can tell by your voice.
“Be quiet, Kale.”
Kale stifled a giggle. I am being quiet. I haven’t spoken a word.
“You know what I mean. Leave me alone. This is not the right time to harass me.”
Kale allowed the seriousness of their situation to sober her. She nodded.
Bardon ignored her. “Dar, what do you want us to do with this ropma?”
“Keep him from getting caught. He isn’t the ripest berry on the bush. I’ll be there as soon as I can. By the way, his name is Dirt.”
Kale furrowed her brow. Dirt?
Bardon put his hand over hers. Her fingers still rested on his sleeve, and she felt a flush go up her neck as she realized she’d been holding on to him all this time.
“I’ve never met a ropma, but according to the books, the parents name their children after things in their natural surroundings—grass, cloud, rock, stone, rain, bird, bug.”
Kale listened to Bardon’s steady voice in her mind. How quickly he returned to a state of control. Kale knew she was too easily ruffled and stayed ruffled too long.
She decided she could learn to be stoic under fire.
All I have to do is develop the tendency, right? Well, I’m just going to work on it.
“What are you talking about?”
I’m not talking. I’m thinking. And you shouldn’t be listening. It’s rude.
“How am I supposed to not listen? You’re right here!”
He stopped glowering at her and surveyed the area below. He pointed to one of the stalls. A man stood and groped for the latch to the stall gate. He stumbled out of the small enclosure, heading for the back door.
Kale’s head swung back to where the ropma had been standing. Dirt had moved. She couldn’t see him, but she located him using her talent. He was crouched behind two stacked bales of hay.
The stableman who had awakened went out a door at the back.
Bardon, the ropma is going to run. He’s scared.
“We have to stop him. Dar wants to talk to him.”
She swung a leg over the top of the ladder, speaking loudly enough to ensure the ropma would hear. “I’m going to go get a drink. You coming?”
“Sure,” Bardon responded after only a second’s delay. “That stew at supper was good, but salty.”
They crept down the ladder. The wooden rungs creaked under their steps. Kale cast an anxious eye to the stall where more men slept and at the door at the back of the barn. The other man would return.
Bardon and Kale walked toward the front door as if they intended to go out to the well. When they passed the ropma’s hiding place, Bardon sidestepped to come up behind the man-beast, as she went over the top