Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [5]
“Will you wait for me here?” she asked. “I shouldn’t be too long.”
“No need to wait.” His gruff voice raked across her resolve not to cry. “After you leave the goat at the Hopperbattyholds’, continue around Nose Point and down the hill. You should reach this road again just about the time we’ve traveled the long way around. We’ll pick you up at the crossroads near Pence.”
“Look at the clouds, Stemikenjon,” said Aunt Tiffenbeth. “She should take a cloak in case it rains.”
“Right.” Uncle Stemikenjon shouted to the coachman. “Toss down the blue carpetbag.”
The servant loosened the ropes, slipped out the needed luggage, and hoisted it in the air.
“This one, Master Blamenyellomont?”
“Aye.”
Half of Ellicinderpart’s new clothes came over the edge of the rooftop in a small valise made of heavy cloth. Uncle Stemikenjon caught it and handed it to Ellie.
“Get your cloak out, dear,” said her aunt. “Oh, and you’d better take a change of clothing in case you get rained on.”
Ellicinderpart opened the bag and pulled out her cloak. The clouds in the distance did look ominous, black and brewing. She gladly put the beautiful brown and black patterned wool around her.
A chill wind swirled up from their feet, and road dust pelted her face. She put a protective arm over her eyes. When the little tempest had passed, she looked up the stony hillside at Tak. He shifted his feet and kept an eye on her. She got the impression that the goat waited impatiently.
“Oh my,” said Aunt Tiffenbeth as she struggled to close the window, pulling on the thick, opaque waxed paper that provided shelter. “Perhaps you won’t make it to the other side of the mountain before the storm hits.”
Uncle Stemikenjon leaned over, snapped the carpetbag closed, and handed it to Ellie. “Take the whole thing. If you can’t make it to the crossroads, spend the night with either the Hopperbattyholds or the Dabryhinckses. Tiffenbeth, give her a few more coins to give the neighbors for their trouble.”
Her aunt obediently dug through the abundant material of her skirt to find the cloth pouch.
“Ellicinderpart,” said her uncle, “if you were a young flibbertigibbet, I’d be worried. But you have a sensible head on your shoulders. If you get lost, follow us to the capital as best you can. Once on the main highway, you will be able to stay in reputable taverns, and you can probably find a ride.”
Aunt Tiffenbeth stretched her hand out to deposit a few more coins in Ellie’s palm. “Keep those safe, dear. The clothes in that bag are for everyday. The better gowns will stay with us.” She sighed, carefully depositing the purse back in the deep pocket. “We would wait while you take care of this little chore, but we are to meet up with my sister and her family in Bellsawyer day after tomorrow. Maybe we can wait for you there.” She turned to her husband. “Stemikenjon, why don’t we wait for Ellicinderpart in Bellsawyer?”
“We can wait an extra day there, but if we tarry too long, we’ll lose our accommodations in Ragar. Better give the child more money for meals and lodging. And a tad more for emergencies.”
Ellie’s mind skittered over the words—emergencies, reputable taverns, Bellsawyer. The possibility of actually getting to Ragar to see the coronation and join in the festivities for the royal wedding flew into the bank of threatening clouds that approached from the west.
“Give her a handkerchief to tie up the coins, Stemikenjon. And young lady, you put the little bundle where no one will suspect you have it. Take the money out when no one is looking, and put just the amount you will need in your pocket.”
“Yes ma’am.” Ellie watched as her aunt once more went through the time-consuming process of finding the pouch, pulling it out of the complicated skirt, pursuing a few coins that rattled at the bottom, and bestowing them upon her with great solemnity. The procedure took too long and tested Ellicinderpart’s patience. But how could she utter, “Please hurry,” between clenched teeth to her generous aunt and uncle?
A second paper window shield snapped into place as Aunt Tiffenbeth