Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [85]
“An island. A pleasant sort of place. A few hungry predators, but other than that, a wonderful vacation spot. I deemed those fellows to be too intense, in need of hours and hours of peaceful meditation. I daresay they shan’t bother us again.”
He turned to address Paladin. “You wanted to question this man?”
“Yes.”
“He’s likely to tell you a lot of nonsense.”
“I’m expecting that.”
“Well, if you venture into his mind, try to avoid the self-righteous rigmarole. It’s sticky stuff and can ruin your attitude.”
“I will avoid all rigmarole, sir.”
“Where’s this leftover fish, Hollee? We’ve got whirling to do. But first I must eat.”
Librettowit followed Hollee as she led the way to the campfire. The branches had settled into a bed of coals.
“Just right for warming buns. A bit of jam and nordy rolls.” He searched his hollows and brought out a lumpy cloth bag.
“Yes,” said Fenworth. “Hollee, you are going to like nordy rolls.”
Bealomondore handed Danto Posh over to Paladin and sat on the boulder next to Tipper to watch the interrogation.
Paladin clamped a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “You will tell me the truth.”
Danto Posh nodded.
“Who sent you to the boat stop?”
“My mother”—at the second word he drooled an oily black substance with his speech—“bought the boat stop, and we came together.”
Danto wiped the slime from his chin and looked at it in horror. “What is this?”
“Why don’t you tell me the truth and see if it goes away?”
Danto gulped, then made a horrible face as if he had swallowed something foul. He rubbed his mouth on his sleeve.
Blinking his eyes rapidly, he began again. “Things are pretty bad back home—”
“Where is back home?”
“Baardack.”
“Continue.”
“And I got this opportunity for some work. So I took it.”
Bealomondore watched carefully. So far nothing more oozed from Danto’s mouth.
“A job?” asked Paladin.
Danto nodded.
“An honest job?”
He nodded again with his lips clamped together. He barely kept the black bile in his mouth for two seconds before he gagged and spit it out.
He glared at Paladin. “What are you doing to me?”
Paladin shrugged. “I’m not doing a thing. You’re the one who controls what comes out of your mouth.”
Danto sputtered. “This is impossible.”
“Why don’t you tell me about the job you were hired to do?”
Posh heaved in a deep breath and let it out slowly, taking the time to examine those watching. Bealomondore gave him a supportive nod when their eyes met.
The artist felt sympathy for the man’s confusion. Dealing with Fenworth, Verrin Schope, and Paladin had often left the tumanhofer befuddled.
“It’s better to accept,” he said by way of encouragement, “that the ruler of these people is much more powerful than your King Odidoddex.”
“King Yellat?” Danto sounded doubtful.
“No,” said Paladin. “I serve Wulder, and He doesn’t like deception.”
Danto looked like he would ask another question but thought better of it.
Paladin guided him over to a fallen log. “Have a seat. Have you eaten lately? I know that bile leaves an awful taste in your mouth. Perhaps Taeda Bel and Tipper will fix you something to eat while we have a pleasant conversation.”
Tipper rose to her feet and exclaimed, “The pain is gone! All gone.” She tapped her foot on the ground. “I’ll have to find my boot. Where is it, Taeda Bel?”
Taeda Bel jumped up and turned a somersault in the air. The kimen grabbed Tipper’s high top shoe and helped her get it on and laced. They went off together toward the campfire.
Paladin sat down next to Danto.
“Now, young man, what was your objective in occupying the boat stop?”
Danto looked to Bealomondore once more. The tumanhofer nodded while wondering why the marione had chosen him as some sort of confidant.
Danto told only the truth as he answered Paladin’s questions. He and his comrades had been sent to disrupt transportation, to cause shortages of goods, and to detain anyone who might have information that would benefit the commanders of the invading forces.
Tipper brought a plateful of fish and a bean casserole,