Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [115]
“Do they steal valuables like jewelry and paintings?”
“They might.”
“Then I’m staying here.” Lady Peg resisted the tug on her arm.
“Mother, you must come up and be safe. Sir Bec has it all figured out, and we must be out of the way.”
“Well, I shall stay here and explain to these enemy soldiers that they cannot take things. Stealing is not acceptable. If I offer them a meal, they may reconsider such bad manners and behave themselves.”
“I doubt it. Mother, please. Father would want us to do as Sir Beccaroon instructed.”
Lady Peg said nothing for a moment, then she hiked up her long skirts and headed for the stairs. “You’re right, Tipper. Hurry up.”
Instead of lying down on her own bed, Tipper chose to stay with her mother. They crawled under the covers and kept Junkit and Rayn with them. The minor dragons had no problem with hiding under the bedspread. Rayn shivered with fear.
Tipper listened for any sound that might be the marauders entering the house. Were they marauders? Probably. Would Bec’s strategy thwart their evil plans? Probably.
Her heart raced, and she deliberately listened to her mother’s breathing. She matched the steady in and out as Lady Peg relaxed. Soon soft snoring replaced her mother’s breathing.
Although she could hardly believe her mother had fallen asleep, Tipper decided it was for the best. She didn’t have to keep her mother from going downstairs to greet the company of soldiers or answer any more of her questions.
Junkit fell asleep, and his snoring rattled in between her mother’s nasal clatter.
The bedroom door opened. Tipper hadn’t heard any footsteps. She held her breath and stared at the opening. Movement caught her attention and brought her eyes lower. A sleek mountain cat’s head appeared. Dark brown spots decorated the tawny fur on its head, neck, and shoulders. The blotches elongated as they covered its back until the markings resembled stripes on its hindquarters.
The big cat padded forward on silent feet, jumped up on the reclining sofa her mother often used for naps, and proceeded to lick one of his forepaws.
The draperies moved aside at the open window. A long, thick snake slithered into the room and disappeared behind the dresser. Tipper wondered what other friends from the Indigo Forest had been commandeered by Sir Beccaroon to protect the house.
“Tipper,” her mother whispered.
“You woke up.”
“Nonsense. I wasn’t asleep.”
Tipper didn’t argue. Her eyes followed the big cat’s every movement as it continued its grooming.
“Tipper,” her mother whispered again.
“Hmm?”
“There’s a cat on my daybed.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t own a cat, do we? I mean not one that big.”
“It’s one of Sir Beccaroon’s friends.”
“Does it have a name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think it’s housebroken? We don’t have a litter box, do we?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“What do you suppose it eats?”
The cat stopped licking its chest and looked at the two women in the bed.
Through stiff lips, Tipper answered as quietly as she could. “Mice.”
Lady Peg heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh, good.”
The cat jumped down from the reclining sofa and sprang up to the end of the mattress. It tilted its head and regarded Tipper and her mother.
“Are you sure?” asked Lady Peg.
“Sure?”
“About the mice.”
“Yes.”
The cat’s ears perked up, and it turned its head toward the open door. A few seconds later, Tipper heard the creaking of leather and the stomping of feet. The cat growled low in its throat.
“Is that purring?” asked Lady Peg.
“I don’t think so.”
“Our company has arrived.”
“Yes.”
“I think Sir Beccaroon can handle greeting them. I just don’t feel like getting up right now.”
45
Intrusion
Under the covers, Lady Peg found Tipper’s hand and squeezed it. Tipper grinned and turned her head to reassure her mother. The cat kept watching the door.
“It’s all right, Mother.”
A loud bang and a crash interrupted her. The cat leaped from the bed and went to stand by the door, staring into the hall.
“What was that?” whispered Lady Peg.
“I think it was the front door banging against the large