Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [137]
Only two words came to mind. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Gymn and Metta are dead.”
“I know what happened to Gymn and Metta.”
“I lost the meech egg.”
“I know what you did.”
“I hit the lever and made the gate close. When I opened it again, it fell apart. Everything fell apart.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t do one thing right. And Gymn and Metta are dead.”
“Wulder is in charge of life in our world, Kale. He gives it, and He takes it away. And when He takes life from one of His creatures here where we stand, He moves it with His infinite care to another place we know very little about. You are not mighty enough to be in charge of the giving and taking of life. Not your life. Not Gymn’s life. Not Metta’s life.”
Kale scrubbed the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand. Paladin offered her a handkerchief.
“Blow your nose,” he ordered kindly.
The noise embarrassed Kale, but everything about being with Paladin now embarrassed her. He should be visiting with Wizard Fenworth or Leetu or Dar. Not her.
Paladin reached out and took her hands in his. He leaned forward and smiled a small, tender smile that somehow warmed her with love and peace. “I want to visit with you, Kale. You are more than my servant. You are my friend, my child, my vision of the future.”
She shook her head slowly from side to side. Paladin could not be wrong. But what he said didn’t make sense. She was a slave girl who didn’t even follow orders very well. Who didn’t do the right thing. Who caused all sorts of problems. Who caused terrible things to happen.
“Kale, what happened when you first found the meech egg and you tried to walk away?”
“I was stuck.”
Paladin nodded. “Sometimes we cannot walk away from our responsibilities. What happened when you left the cape and reentered the tunnel to open the gate?”
“Nothing. I mean, the meech egg didn’t hold me.”
“Sometimes the order of importance of our responsibilities shifts. What was crucial at one moment moves down to second place, or third, under different circumstances.”
Kale wrinkled her brow, trying to understand.
Paladin squeezed her hand. “What do you think Wulder wanted you to do? Sit and cradle the meech egg, or try to help your friends?”
“Help?”
Paladin nodded. “You did the right thing, Kale. You didn’t sit and reason it out. You jumped up and did the right thing. You are a better person than you think. Wulder is pleased with who you are.”
“But it was my fault.”
“You have the power to crack a mountain in two? Amazing! I thought you were just a slave girl.” The twinkle in his eye took away the sting of his words.
A smile played at the corner of Kale’s mouth. “I guess not.”
“You have choices to make now, Kale.” Paladin let go of her hands and leaned back in his chair. “You can return with Dar to The Hall. Or you can stay here in the o’rant valley. Either choice is all right with me. If you go to The Hall, you will be trained, and much will be required of you.
“If you stay here, you will learn more about your people. Things will come across your path that will require you to help friends and even strangers.”
Paladin sighed and leaned back in the chair. He looked perfectly content and at ease, not troubled by wicked wizards and all the evil they created. “It is quieter here. The likelihood of adventure is less. But still you will be my servant. I will be pleased with you. You are mine, Kale, and I do not scorn those who have given their service to me. You won’t be bored here, either. There will be plenty of opportunities to do good.
“You don’t have to decide tonight. In fact, you can wait until spring.” He stood up and stretched.
Kale watched him. His strong body silhouetted by the fire looked much like that of any young man, yet Paladin had been around since before the Battle of Ordray. Her eyes widened at the thought. Wizard Fenworth was that old too. Paladin was special in ways Kale could not understand, and he had claimed her as his friend, his child.
She looked down at her callused and scratched hands. She didn’t seem a good candidate