Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [6]
Uncle Stemikenjon patted Ellie on the shoulder before returning to the cozy interior of the carriage.
“Hurry along,” he said as he climbed in. “Take care of that goat and join us, either at the crossroads or in Bellsawyer if you’re a day behind us. If you fall farther behind, you can find us at the Strolling Minstrel in Ragar.”
Ellie answered, “Yes sir,” just as the door slammed shut.
The coachman leaned over the edge of the roof with a concerned look on his face. He tipped his hat to her and clambered over the luggage to regain his perch above the horses. He hollered, “Go on,” and flicked the reins. Ellie jumped back as the huge wheels turned beside her.
She watched the coach for only a moment, then turned her gaze to Tak. The silly goat pranced as if delighted she’d been left behind.
Ellie lifted her skirts to avoid the brambly bushes and trudged upward on a hill with more rocks than grass. She didn’t want to get her new dress dirty or torn, and she had on soft leather boots that shaped attractively around her ankle. Not only that, she had real stockings on. The fine knit of the hosiery itched, but her legs looked very pretty.
Her cloak caught on a branch. “Oh! I’m going to ruin my beautiful clothes.” She cast an angry scowl at the goat, but Tak looked away. The cold had deepened, and her stiff fingers fumbled with the fabric clinging to a row of thorns. The material came away, and she examined her fine cloak for any damage.
“Yer a very, very lucky goat, Tak. If’n I’d found a tear, you would notta been shown to a nice warm barn.”
Ellie heard the country accent in her words and repeated them as she clambered over a rocky patch. “You’re a very lucky goat. If I’d found a tear, you might not have been escorted to a nice warm barn.” She smiled. She could talk right when she needed to. That was due to her ma.
Tak scampered toward her when she reached the ridge, then abruptly changed directions and trotted away.
“Oh, no you don’t, Tak. I’m not in the mood for playing catch-me.”
Cold, damp wind whipped her cloak aside. She shivered and put down the carpetbag to button against the chill. The valise fit under the ample width of her new cape.
Holding the precious valise of clothing, Ellie looked for Tak. He’d disappeared.
“Tak!”
She heard his bleat and hurried toward an outcropping of rock. Tak stood in a patch of green grass, plucking the blades and chewing. Huffing and puffing, she crossed the level ground and sat on a boulder close to the goat.
First she made sure her cloak protected her new dress, then she looked out across the landscape, getting her bearings. The road her aunt and uncle were traveling wound between hills. In some places, she could see the brown ribbon, and in others, woods or hills blocked her view.
After she caught her breath, she’d take Tak down this mound and into the valley she could see just to the south. The distance to the Hopperbattyholds’ didn’t amount to much. And they’d be going downhill.
The clouds darkened the land to the west, but something caught the light in the hills across the vale. The sun still shining in the east sent shafts of light through clouds not yet amassed for the storm. For her to see it from this distance, the object must be the size of a house. The glint of reflection winked on and off as the sky collected billows of thick vapor.
A clap of thunder punctuated the last glimmer. Tak raised his raucous voice in protest. Her goat hated rain, hated rain with a will. Tak bolted down the mountainside. Ellie grabbed her carpetbag and scrambled after him.
Ellie muttered as she followed the goat. She’d been left on her own with a mixed-up set of directions. “If this happens, do this. If that happens, do such and such.” She knew her aunt and uncle held her in affection and wanted to do something nice for her, but Ellicinderpart realized that it was up to her not to be a bother. She must not cause an inconvenience. Well, she hadn’t. Tak had.
The air thickened with a fine, cold mist. Tak hated to get wet. “Serves him right. What