Dragonquest - Donita K. Paul [88]
Kale’s stomach rumbled as she rummaged in a chest for her slippers. She’d removed her sodden boots before tiptoeing into the little room where Toopka slept. Kale shushed her tummy, telling it to remember the hearty meal she’d eaten at The Horn. She didn’t want Toopka to awaken. The little girl slept soundly, occasionally snoring with a soft snuffling sound Kale had grown to love. The o’rant smiled as Toopka grunted and turned over.
With warm slippers on her feet, Kale found the old pair of trousers Dar had once made for her out of a skirt. She slipped those on, picked her discarded wet ones off the floor, and draped them over the back of a wooden chair. She hurried back to the kitchen, not wanting to miss any of the conversation.
Her comrades met by the warm hearth. Dar placed steaming mugs of mallow and a plate heaped with fried mullins and daggarts on the large kitchen table. He also put out poorman’s dessert for the minor dragons. Even with the comforting touches of food and candlelight, the tension around the table could not be ignored.
Librettowit crossed his arms over his chest with his fingers drumming the sleeve of his dressing gown. Bardon held a mug but did not drink. Regidor held his tail in his lap, stroking the scales at its tip. Only the minor dragons seemed unconcerned. They noisily slurped their treat.
Kale looked around the table at her comrades. They all faced the same uncertain future, but they handled the tension differently. Librettowit allowed gloom to settle on his features. Bardon put on a stonelike facade to hide his inner turmoil. Regidor’s nerves caused him to visibly twitch. Dar adopted his debonair host persona.
Only Dar and the minor dragons look comfortable. Who do I resemble?
She surveyed the different faces once more.
Nobody yet. I guess I get to choose. Paladin is always saying to take care of what is right in front of me. And I know what the problem is right now. I’m hungry!
Kale took a toffee daggart from the plate, which she pushed toward Regidor.
His head jerked up, and he looked at her intently for a moment. Then he sighed, grinned, and helped himself to two daggarts before passing the plate to the librarian.
Dar sat at the head of the table. He wrapped his fingers around his drink as if to warm his hands.
“First, I would like an account of the fight at The Horn.” His eyes shifted immediately to her. “Kale?”
“Some of the men took exception to Regidor.” She paused, not knowing how to describe the way Regidor goaded the men into the fight.
Dar’s eyes moved to the lehman. “Bardon?”
“When the men challenged Regidor, he revealed his identity and instigated the fight.”
Dar’s eyes narrowed. “And what provoked you, Regidor?”
Kale had grown so accustomed to the unusual pupils in Regidor’s eyes, she hardly noticed them. But now the black pupils narrowed to a thick line running down the center of each green iris. The green glowed as if a fire burned within. Kale tensed, wondering if the meech would explode once again.
“They talked of dragons, among themselves and in the stupid rumination of their drunken minds.” Regidor’s deep voice rumbled like thunder announcing a wild storm still some distance away. “Dragons are to be blamed for every ill of society. Poisonous slander. Malicious lies. These men plot to murder dragons working side by side with the high races. Their words inflame the fears of ignorance. Kill. Destroy. Maim. Imprison. These are their solutions to a nonexistent problem. Crush the eggs. Slit the throats of newborns. Burn the carcass of any slain dragon. Bounties have already been offered in Northern Trese. The slaughter has begun.”
Kale tried to stem the panic flooding her. The minor dragons left their dessert and crawled into her arms where she cradled them, holding their fragile bodies as if to protect them from this unseen danger.
“Fools,” barked Librettowit. “For centuries Amara’s economy has depended on cooperation between the high races and the dragons. The dragons have always been unselfish in their willingness to facilitate the production