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QUARTERED WITH THE ENEMY

“Bring me some food!”

Kale jumped when Regidor’s voice bellowed in her mind. She glanced around the spacious kitchen to see if any of the manor servants had noticed. The mixture of mariones, o’rants, and tumanhofers worked side by side in a friendly atmosphere. They had made Kale, Bardon, and Toopka welcome around their plain wood table.

Kale addressed her meech friend. You don’t have any food?

“A crust of bread, a hard hunk of yellow cheese, and a tankard of watered-down cider.”

She felt the meech dragon’s disgust as if it were her own. She knew immediately to whom Regidor attributed his meager meal, therefore, his rant didn’t surprise her.

“Dar told them my order of monks rarely eats meat or vegetables or such luxuries as salt and sugar. Only the plainest of food would meet my stringent dietary restrictions.”

Kale grinned, imagining the pleasure Dar got from his orneriness. She saw Bardon lift an eyebrow in her direction.

“What are you scheming?”

The question came into her mind along with the realization that she had not initiated the conversation.

You’re a mindspeaker, Bardon!

“I am not. I merely respond to what you say.”

But I didn’t say anything. You asked a question.

“You were looking at me and that opened the communication.”

You’re stubborn.

“You’re wrong and don’t want to admit it. That’s stubborn.”

Regidor’s voice bellowed into her thoughts. “And while you argue pointlessly, I’m starving!”

From within her moonbeam cape, three more voices radiated to her mind. The minor dragons wanted food too.

All right, all right!

She stood and marched out of the kitchen, not bothering to explain her sudden departure. Quick steps through the cool night air brought her to the stable. She entered the barn and nodded to Bruit sitting with the manor’s stablemen around a table lit by a lantern.

Climbing the wooden ladder to the loft, she mentally told Bardon to be quiet as he chastised her for rude behavior. She also told Regidor to be patient. He expounded upon the lack of consideration the others showed him by leaving him alone and hungry in a dreary room in the massive, drafty stone house. At the top of the ladder and out of sight of the men below, she pulled the minor dragons from her cape.

“Stay out of sight,” she whispered. “You can forage all you want up here. I’ll be back to sleep in the loft. If anyone comes up, remember—stay out of sight!”

Kale climbed back down the ladder and nodded at the men who glanced up from their game of cards.

She shivered as she recrossed the open space between the stables and the huge stone manor. A cold wind whipped under her cape.

Regidor responded. “Brr. It’s cold in here. Be sure what you bring is hot.”

She stomped back into the heated kitchen and went to warm her hands by the hearth.

“See if you can find an extra blanket, too.”

First let me see if I can get a bowl of stew. Then I’ll think about bedding.

She casually surveyed the other people in the room. Only Bardon seemed aware of her presence.

“I’ll cover for you while you take something to Regidor.”

Her eyes popped open. His voice in her mind proved her point. Bardon could and did mindspeak. His talent would have to be addressed.

Does he know the etiquette Leetu Bends drilled into me? Does he know how to protect himself?

Kale looked away from the bothersome lehman and spied a clean bowl on a preparation table. She crossed the room, picked it up, and returned to the fire. No one seemed interested in her actions. Many of the workers had finished their chores for the day. They relaxed around a table, enjoying their supper and swapping bits of household news. Other servants still carried trays of food to the dining hall and brought back empty dishes.

The gleaming platters on large polished trays held delicacies she had never seen before. The aroma filled her nose like a promising potion.

Kale ladled stew, chunky with large cuts of meat and vegetables, into the bowl. She then sat in an out-of-the-way corner and pretended to eat, watching the activity around her. At an opportune time, she slipped out the door to the main part of the hall and followed a shadowy corridor to stairs that led to the bedrooms. With her mind on her meech friend, she followed the instinct that would lead her to his room.

I’m coming, Regidor.

“Good. I’m famished.”

I’ve got a large bowl of stew. It’s delicious.

“Can you find me?”

I think I could find you in a tumanhofer mine with all its twisting, turning tunnels.

“Kale, your talent is truly remarkable.”

She stopped in the dark hallway. Remarkable?

“Yes, remarkable, but keep moving. I’m hungry.”

Regidor sent her an impression of his rumbling stomach. She grinned and quickened her steps.

Once she had to duck into an alcove to avoid passing a maid coming back from an errand. Twice she passed rooms on tiptoe, knowing someone was working within. A dog rose from guarding another chamber and challenged her with a soft growl.

“It’s all right, fella,” she said as she approached. “I don’t want to go into your master’s room.”

The dog settled down again. It watched her walk by with only its twitching nose indicating it was interested in the bowl of stew.

She hurried to the end of a hall and turned down a gloomy passageway lit by one flickering sconce. A door at the end opened, and she hastened to where Regidor waited.

“I don’t like this place, Kale,” he said as he took the bowl. He crossed to a stool and sat down quickly, already spooning the broth into his mouth. “Mmm. This is good.”

She sat on the edge of a hard cot covered with a thick, scratchy blanket. “What don’t you like about the manor? Is it just because they put you off in seclusion? That’s Dar’s idea of a joke.”

“No.” Regidor slurped a big chunk of potato off his spoon and smacked his lips as he chewed. “Remember I told you about being able to see something about people. I think it has to do with how much at peace they are with their existence.” He was devouring the stew at an impressive rate, talking all the while.

“But you’ve been shut in this room by yourself.”

He shook his head again. “No, I’ve been strolling the hallways.”

“Regidor!”

“Don’t worry. I had my tail curled around and tucked into the belt under the robe. I had the cowl up over my head. My arms were crossed and hidden in the sleeves. I looked just like a monk on a meditative walk.”

She’d seen him practicing his disguise. He strolled with a measured step, his head bowed, and his entire person enveloped in the clerical robes. Granny Noon had provided the costume, and Kale felt positive it held secret qualities.

Regidor had grown at a phenomenal rate. He stood taller than she now, and his tail, which had been such a cumbersome nuisance to him when he was just weeks old, now fit the rest of his body. He looked so much like an o’rant it made her wonder where meech dragons had come from. They were neither one of the high nor the low races.

“What did you see?” she asked.

“Most of the inhabitants of this manor are just what they seem, hard-working servants. But a few vibrate with an expectation of great wealth. Some battle with memories of misdeeds. Others shy away from contemplation of what exactly they must do to gain this fortune.”

His spoon paused over the bowl. “And the glimpse I got of the master of this manor…” The meech dragon shuddered. “He’s evil. The drive to fulfill his desire roils out a hue of turbulent purples and black. The colors clash and spark, setting off streaks of lightninglike disturbance in the air around him.”

Regidor set the spoon down in the near-empty bowl. “It troubles me, Kale. There is strength in this man I can’t explain.”

“One of Risto’s minions?”

Regidor nodded soberly. “One would assume.”


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The loft of the stable functioned as guestroom to the visiting servants. Only Dar, as Librettowit’s valet, had a room inside.

With their stomachs full of delicious supper, all the travelers were ready for a good night’s rest. Bardon and Bruit bedded down at one end where a couple of low-ranking stableboys also slept. At the other end of the loft, Toopka and Kale curled up on a coarse blanket with the moonbeam cape spread over them. The minor dragons hid in their pocket-dens.

In the middle of the night, Kale awoke. She listened for some unusual noise that would have roused her from a very pleasant sleep. Soft snoring filtered between the floorboards. A horse stirred and blew. Another horse stomped nervously, bumped the gate of its stall, and snorted.

She sat up.

A window spread a broad band of moonlight across the loft. Ghostly white hay almost divided the room in half, but Kale could see the men sleeping beyond.

Bardon, wake up!

The lehman hunched a shoulder and relaxed again on his pallet.

Bardon, wake up!

He sat up and looked across the space, directly at her.

There’s something down below. Something besides the horses and stable-hands.

Bardon pulled on his boots, drew his sword from the scabbard beside his pallet, and shifted silently to his knees. He crawled toward the edge.

She followed his lead and crept to meet the lehman at the top of the ladder.

At first she saw nothing but shadows.

“There!”

Her eyes followed Bardon’s pointing finger.

A shadow moved.

She held her breath.

A form moved away from the wall and crossed to the large barn door. He stood inside with the door slightly ajar, his attention riveted on something outside.

What is he? she asked.

“A ropma.”

Kale tried to remember anything she knew about ropmas. Other than they were one of the seven low races and usually occupied themselves herding animals, she knew nothing.

They’re harmless, right?

“He could be.”

What do you think he’s doing here?

“You’re the one who can find out.”

Me?

Kale felt the ripple of exasperation from her comrade.

“Kale, go into his mind and find out why he’s here.”

Oh!

She pressed her lips into a straight line and instantly threw up a guard so Bardon would not hear her fuming. Of course, she should have thought of it first.

No more stupid mistakes. My thoughts belong to me and Wulder. I stand under Wulder’s authority as I search for truth.

She concentrated on the shadowy form by the door. His thoughts were simple. Only one thing mattered at this moment to the ropma. He must follow orders.

He’s waiting for someone, Bardon.

“Who?”

That’s not clear. It’s someone he’s never seen before, and that’s hard for him. He has a very simple thought pattern.

“Who is he waiting for?”

She bit back an angry retort. It wasn’t easy plucking an answer from a mind that had only a vague notion. Instead of snapping at Bardon, she focused on the man-beast below.

Small.

Covered in hair.

Important.

Nice clothes.

Kale’s hand moved over to Bardon’s arm. Her fingers dug into his sleeve.

Bardon, he’s waiting for Dar.