Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [112]
“I do,” said the wizard. “Are you in need of a little pick-me-up?”
“I am in need of a larger pick-me-up than you are capable of supplying. It all comes from being old.”
“I know the feeling.”
They reached the entry to the cave. Hollee blinked rapidly at the brightness of many colored lightrocks covering the walls. “Ooh, this is beautiful.”
“Thank you, child. It’s home.”
“I’ve never talked to a dragon before. I mean one that talked back. I don’t mean talked back as in sassiness. I mean talked back out loud.”
“You need not be nervous. What is your name?”
“Hollee from the Starling Forest.”
“I spent some of my youth in your forest.”
Hollee heard something crinkling, and as her eyes adjusted to the dazzling light, she saw that Sage was moving. Every time he shifted his body, his reddish skin rumpled and made a scrunching noise. She was surprised he was so small. Small for a dragon. His size matched that of a draft horse, but his skin hung on him in a baggy sort of way, and he didn’t look nearly as majestic as one of the huge horses.
“Welcome, Wizard Fenworth.”
“Thank you. May I have permission to use your name?”
“You may, and I am delighted that you remember dragon protocol. I also appreciate that you have worn your formal attire into my humble and humid home.”
Fenworth bowed. “Sage, I come to reveal that I have trespassed under your valley. I ask your pardon and hope to enlist your aid. May I tell you more of the importance of our project?”
“Yes, you may, and have a seat. I apologize that I have no refreshments to offer you.”
“But I have the Arbaneous Topicalee. May I place some before you?”
“Certainly.”
Fenworth opened his robe and delved within one of the hollows. He pulled out a thick purple slab that looked like a giant beast’s dried tongue.
“What is that?” Hollee asked with her nose wrinkled. She caught a whiff of a pleasant odor, and her face relaxed.
“It is Bane bark, pulverized, mixed with a bit of pica, and dried. It is sweet, from the pica, and filled with vitamins and minerals. Arbaneous is said to redden your blood, and Topicalee provides relief from old bones creaking and joints groaning.”
He placed the Arbaneous Topicalee in Sage’s outstretched forepaw. The old dragon nibbled off a piece, closed his eyes, and hummed.
Wizard Fenworth winked at Hollee, then perched on one of the many boulders. Hollee sat on a smaller one. They waited until Sage had swallowed a few bites.
When he opened his eyes again, his face wore an expression of bliss. “So good, so good, and so hard to come across in these mountains. Tell me of your project.”
Wizard Fenworth recounted the history of the three stone statues.
“I know some of this tale from Sir Beccaroon. How does this relate to my territory?”
“Since the statues are powerful, safe sanctuary is imperative. I’ve built a chapel of sorts in the salt and crystal cavern below the floor of this valley.”
“A place of worship?”
“And meditation.”
“To your god?”
“To the God of the Universe.”
“His name?”
“Wulder.”
Sage nodded. “Wulder. My generation called Him Wulder Aldor.
“He Spoke the Truth. Yes, that is one of His names.”
“I am honored to have under my care the Chapel of Wulder Aldor.” Sage chortled. “I may even choose to live a few more years to see how Chiril responds to the Call of Wulder Aldor.”
He sobered and looked at his wizard visitor. “Tell me of this invasion.”
44
Hospital
Tipper stood on the roof of Byrdschopen, looking out over the peaceful countryside. The war seemed far away. In the rooms below, two dozen wounded soldiers slept in beds instead of cots. Their presence testified to the bloody battle that still maimed and killed her countrymen. The Byrdschopen hospital offered peace and rest for soldiers regaining their strength.
Gladyme provided good food. Several women from the village had moved to Tipper’s home to aid in nursing the men. Others helped in the kitchen.
Lady Peg had found her niche. Tipper’s mother became a tyrant of cleanliness. She kept more villagers busy washing clothes and linens, and those who