Dragonspell - Donita K. Paul [56]
Dar took hold of her elbow and guided her to a soft clump of tumpgrass in the shade of a tree.
“Here, sit,” he told her. “I’ll get Gymn out. We’ll lay out the moonbeam cape, and you two can take a nap. I feel like playing a bit on my flute. By the time you awake, you’ll be refreshed and ready for the next part of our journey. And my soul, which I have to admit is a bit distressed, will have regained some peace.”
Dar proceeded to make Kale comfortable, giving her a cup of water from their bottled supply and a biscuit smeared with some of Granny Noon’s purpleberry jam.
Kale finished her snack, curled up on the cape with Gymn nestled against her cheek, and listened to Dar’s mellow tune from the silver flute. Sleep had almost claimed her when she remembered something she wanted to ask the doneel.
“Dar, I heard Granny Noon’s voice.”
The music stopped. “Just now?”
“No. When I was on Celisse’s back. After the attack.”
“What did she say?”
“I was trying to remember just exactly what to say to make sure I got what I wanted. You know, about blocking minds and not getting hurt by wicked thoughts when I tried to find out something. I heard Granny Noon’s voice say, ‘Not the right words, but a heart in the right place.’ I figure she meant that as long as my intentions were to follow Paladin and go the way of Wulder, then if I bungled up the words a bit, it wouldn’t matter.”
“That sounds right.” Dar put his flute back to his lips.
“But I wanted to ask you”—she watched Dar lower his instrument again—“how did I hear her from so far away? Leetu told me there’s a limit to how far you can be from someone and still mindspeak.”
“Granny Noon is a powerful emerlindian. It could be that she spoke to you. But it could also be that the words you heard were very like something she told you, and you remembered them when you needed them. Or…”
“Or?”
“Or Wulder may have answered your questions, and you heard Him in the voice of one you trust.”
Kale sat up. “Wulder mindspeaks!”
Dar laughed. “What’s so amazing about Wulder speaking to one of His creations?”
Kale lay down again, not at all happy that she’d revealed again how much she didn’t know.
“I just didn’t think of Him being around like that. I mean, to talk to, or listen to, or…something.”
“You mean you thought He would be busy, too busy to take note of you.”
“Well, yes.”
Dar played a refrain from the soothing melody he’d started before. When the notes stopped, she held her breath, wondering what he would say.
“I guess you’ve got to get used to not being a slave. When you were a slave, those in authority over you commanded you to get things done without caring much about how you felt and what you wanted. Now that you’ve chosen to be a servant to Paladin, you’ll have many people who look out for your best interest.”
His tune began again. Kale let out the breath she was holding, but she couldn’t relax. Gymn nuzzled her cheek, and she stroked his back.
The problem with what Dar says is this: I didn’t choose to be a servant. While I was a slave, I was commanded to go be a servant. Do the things Dar talks about count for me? I’m serving Paladin because the village council said I have to.
Dar’s serene music and Gymn’s healing touch eased her into a tranquil state. Still, her doubt about being Paladin’s servant buzzed around in her head like a worrisome bee until the monotonous hum lulled her to sleep.
When she opened her eyes, the sun had eased down to the western horizon. Across the valley, it blazed red behind the dark fortress. Dar sat propped against a tree trunk, his eyes closed, a soft snore accenting his breathing.
Hurry! The word popped into Kale’s mind, and she sat up.
“Dar!”
The doneel woke with a start.
Kale stood. She gazed across the darkening valley to the ominous structure on the cliff side. The sun glared around it, making a silhouette of the tall, straight walls. She squinted, unable to turn her focus from the source of an urgent call. “It’s Leetu. She