Dragons of the Watch - Donita K. Paul [66]
Old One glared at her, then at Orli, who didn’t appear to notice. Finally he expelled a growly sigh. “I shall not let this subvert my enjoyment of this tea. But I have not forgotten nor put aside this irregularity.”
Ellie bobbed her head, fixed a saucer of tea for Orli, and hurried to sit in the chair next to Bealomondore.
She held her teacup with two hands and enjoyed the warm brew. Her daggart tasted just as fresh as the ones she and Bealomondore had eaten from the oven. All the trouble they’d gone to paid off with each crunchy bite.
They didn’t converse while they ate. She brewed more tea, and they each had another cup. Orli had another saucerful.
When Old One finished his last daggart, he put down his saucer and cup, folded his napkin, and reestablished his crotchety expression.
Clearing his throat, he produced a voice to rival any judge of doom in a courtroom. “We must talk of what is allowed and what is not allowed. You have upset the citizens of Rumbard City.”
“Do you mean the children?” asked Bealomondore.
“Of course I mean the children.”
“I thought perhaps you referred to yourself and Orli. And maybe the dragons of the watch.”
“Bah! A worthless crew, that watch. They quit reporting to me a century or more past.”
A picture of Old One throwing shoes at the tiny dragons entered Ellie’s mind, and she gave a start of a chuckle that she tried to hide. Orli barely glowed, but with a pink pearlescence. Bealomondore snorted a wayward laugh as well. Ellie looked at him, caught him looking at her, and they both burst into laughter.
Old One’s voice rose. “I’ve been watching you two. You have deplorable manners. Rummaging through my things. Cavorting and giggling and retaining no dignity, which is supposed to be displayed at all times in the great hall of books.”
His eyes went to a pillar, and a fiercer frown darkened his face. He stood and marched to the column, grabbed hold of an overgrown fern, and wrenched the branches downward. While holding the fanning leaves aside, he pointed to a sign.
With authority deepening his already impressive tone, he read. “A quiet voice and attitude are welcome in the library.”
Bealomondore managed to compose himself. Ellie chose to stare at her hands.
“So,” said Bealomondore respectfully, “you wish to speak to us about our treatment of the children and our lack of decorum in the library.”
Old One let go of the branches. They snapped back, whacking the pillar. An unusual sound followed as the sign tilted, then slid down to the floor, where it clunked.
“Yes!” Old One shouted. “The citizens of Rumbard City were left under my care, and you shall not distress them.”
Fire raced through Ellie, and she stood, her head tilted back so she could look directly in the urohm’s face. If she’d had time to clamber to a higher post, she would have. But anger fueled her tongue, and outrage spurred her on.
“You are in charge of those poor children? You’re responsible for their welfare? Sir! It is disgraceful. They are neglected. They’ve had no guidance. They live as animals in a pack, like wolves and muskoxen.”
“Muskoxen?” Old One looked at Bealomondore, who shrugged.
Ellie shook a fist toward the old urohm. “Those little children have no concept of right or wrong. They’re forced to fight for a portion of food. No one washes behind their ears. No one tucks them in at night. No one cleans a skinned knee and applies a bandage. You are in charge? You should be ashamed.”
Tears rolled down Ellie’s cheeks. She backhanded a swipe to get rid of them, but they flowed too heavily.
Still riding on a flow of fury, she asked, “Who put you in charge?”
“I don’t rightly remember. I think maybe it came to me by default. I’m the only adult left, you see. They’re an unruly bunch, you see. I gave up.”
Bealomondore stood and put his arm around Ellie. She tried to control the quivering of ire, and his warmth calmed her.
“We are aware of your status, sir,” said Bealomondore. “Perhaps we could be of assistance to each other.”
A glimmer of hope crossed the old man’s face. “Could be. Could be.” He