“It wasn’t fair,” said Kale, standing once more. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell you more when we get to the meeting. It’s our turn.”
“How do you know it’s our turn? What about Holt? Is he coming? Does he know when it’s his turn?”
Kale reached into her moonbeam cape and pulled out her hand. Nothing appeared to be in her grasp, but she swept her arm over the chattering doneel’s head.
“I can run and tell him. I—” Toopka’s lips continued to move, her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
Bardon raised his eyebrows.
“I silenced her,” Kale answered Bardon’s unspoken question.
“Permanently?”
“Hardly.”
“One could hope.”
“I put an invisible silencing net over her head. We can remove it at any time.”
Toopka put her head down on Bardon’s shoulder and buried her face in his neck.
Kale patted her back and spoke softly. “I’m going to mindspeak to Holt and tell him we are ready to have our meeting. I’ll tell him to come, and I’ll tell him where we are going, so he can find us. All right?”
They barely saw the tiny nod of her head.
“All right, then,” said Bardon. “Let’s go.”
He led them to the corridor in the building that passed between the two sides of the inn. The Gander accommodated male guests, and The Goose catered to ladies. In the dark hallway, stairs provided a way to the upper floors.
When he reached the second story, Bardon whispered to Kale. “I didn’t know she knew our marione friend.”
“She met him once at Sir Dar’s.”
“Once? Her eagerness made me believe they must be lifelong friends.”
“You know what a charmer he can be.”
“Oh yes, and especially to the ladies.”
They had almost reached the top of the stairs when a commotion erupted below them. They heard the whack of something solid striking another object and a woman’s shrill protests.
“You’ve played with my affections.” Whack, whack! “And you’ve toyed with my sister’s heart.” Whack, thump, whack! “And you’ve even led my dear aunt to believe you held her in great esteem.” Thump, crash, whack, whack. “You’re a two-faced liar, a silken-tongued snake, a…”
“Do you think we should go to the fellow’s rescue?” asked Bardon.
“It’s Holt,” whispered Kale.
“I was afraid it might be.”
“Well, then, we can’t go to his rescue, can we?”
Bardon sadly shook his head. “No, we don’t know him, and he doesn’t know us.”
Kale clicked her tongue and sighed ruefully. “We are not to be seen together.”
“No, we are not.” With an overly dramatic sigh, Bardon turned and climbed the last few steps to the third floor. “I hope she doesn’t detain him too long. Toopka thinks meetings are boring as it is.”
Kale knocked on a door. “Yes, for Toopka’s sake, we don’t wish to delay the meeting.”
“Come in.” Regidor’s voice welcomed them.
They opened the door to find everyone but Holt convened for their secret gathering.
20
NO MORE NONSENSE
“I’ve had enough!” Gilda stood and headed across the room. “I’ll bring Holt upstairs if only to end this dreadful rendezvous in this loathsome building without any further appalling delays.” She opened the door and swept through.
Kale glanced at Bardon and then at Regidor. “Do you want me to go after her?”
A sly grin curled Regidor’s thin lips. “She can take care of herself.”
“But who is going to take care of Holt?”
Regidor laughed and held out his palm. A golden disk lay on his hand, and an opaque cylinder grew from this base until it stood about twelve inches tall. A dark passage appeared inside, and Kale gasped as she realized she could see the stairwell she, Bardon, and Toopka had just climbed.
“What you’re seeing is the scene directly in front of Gilda at this moment. I haven’t been able to make it work except at very short distances.” Regidor tilted his head. “Listen, you should be able to hear as well as see what goes on.”
Gilda rounded the last bend in the stairs. In the cylinder, Holt stood between two furious women with two more people on the outskirts of the melee. Maye Ghent held one of the ladies, and a footman had his arms around the waist of the other. Neither of the irate females seemed inclined to give up their harassment of the golden-headed marione. Even muted, their voices sounded shrill and demanding. Few of the words they spoke came through clearly.
However, Mistress Ghent spoke in loud, sharp tones. “Leave off, now. Let this poor excuse for a man go on his way. You’re making a spectacle of yourself and not improving the situation one bit. You can’t win with the likes of him.”
Gilda’s arm came into view, and she grasped Holt by the back of his shirt. No muffling disguised her voice either.
“This is mine,” she said and pulled Holt out of the fray. “Thank you for bringing him back. There’s no reward for his return, so you might as well be on your way.”
A sweep of the walls showed Gilda’s turning, and she marched up the stairs, prodding Holt to move more quickly before her. As she reached the top step, the cylinder collapsed, and Regidor slipped it into his coat pocket.
Meech dragon and marione entered through the open doorway. Gilda shut the door, then resumed her seat by Regidor. Holt stood awkwardly in the center of the room.
Kale took pity on him. “Come sit here, Holt. We’re about to start our meeting.”
As soon as the marione settled, Toopka squirmed out of Bardon’s arms, climbed across Kale’s lap, and wrapped her arms around Holt’s neck. She gestured for Kale to remove the silencing net. Kale shook her head and focused on Lee Ark.
“We’ve several issues to address.” The general crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee.
Without his uniform, he looked like a farmer. However, even in this casual posture, he remained a commanding figure. Kale had no doubt who was in charge.
“The first item for our attention is the hordes of black dragons.” Lee Ark leaned forward. “For those of you who have not seen them, I’ll describe what others have noted. These black dragons are smaller than a lad’s fist, about twice the size of a buzz-stinger, and sound like a common bee, but a bit louder. They fly in swarms, breathe fire, apparently live only a few days, and after death, their bodies disintegrate within another twenty-four-hour period.”
Brunstetter, Kale, and Bardon nodded.
“They are capable of inflicting a nasty sting from poisoned barbs on their backs. So far we have no reports of a deliberate attack except on our Dragon Keeper, Kale Allerion.”
Regidor frowned as he looked at Kale. “Do you know of anything you did that might have provoked the attack?”
“No, but my minor dragons said that a blind rage passed through the swarm, and I was the target for that fury.” She took Bardon’s hand. “The little dragons had no explanation for the black dragons’ hatred, but they said as soon as the menacing creatures were beyond line of sight, the anger dissipated. Tieto’s overall assessment of the beasts’ intelligence is that they have next to none.”
“Instinctive behavior rather than rational,” Regidor surmised.
She agreed, as did several others.
Lee Ark stood and moved to the window. He pulled back the curtain, surveyed the view, then returned to the circle. “Rumor has it that the black dragons are connected to an old legend. I have men investigating. Librettowit, here, is in charge of the research.”
Librettowit touched two fingers to the brim of his hood, a tumanhofer sign that whatever was assigned would be done.
“Next on our agenda is the problem of the Followers. This is where Holt will be of service to Paladin and Amara.”
Holt squirmed slightly under the scrutiny of the others but managed to keep his expression in a noncommittal, neutra
l mask. Kale wondered at how he could school his face to reflect nothing but bland amiability. She tried to copy him and discovered both her husband and Regidor looking at her strangely.
She mentally stuck her tongue out. Regidor and Bardon exchanged amused glances, then visibly relaxed. A new surge of irritation baited Kale to provoke a quarrel, but she pushed down the temptation. Instead, she returned her attention to Lee Ark, avoiding an exchange of barbs with the men. Regidor continued trying to engage her, but she closed her mind to his banter.
“By Wulder’s foresight,” said Lee Ark with a touch of irony in his voice, “Holt has already infiltrated a group of Followers near Ianna.”
“That’s a bit too convenient,” said Regidor. “I’d like to hear how this came about.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Lee Ark sat down. “Yes, I’d like to hear the tale from your own lips, Holt.”
The marione swept the room with a grimace of annoyance.
“I noticed what they were doing, these Followers. They were duping people into making commitments, giving the elders money, turning over their property to the group.” He shrugged. “I’m always interested in a scam, so I decided to take a closer look. The only way to accomplish that was to join them. So I did.”
Kale caught herself before saying, “Tut-tut.” She cleared her throat. “I thought you’d reformed.”
He cast her a slight grin, fully disarming when coupled with dimples and merry blue eyes. “I reform twice a week, Lady Kale. It’s good for the soul.”
Gilda snickered. “Apparently not any permanent good.”
Kale heard the next thought forming in Gilda’s mind, but Regidor put his hand on his wife’s arm and stopped her before she could scornfully add that none of the high races had shown themselves capable of noble allegiance for any length of time. With her lips pressed firmly together, Gilda turned her eyes away from the members of the gathering and stared out the window.
Lee Ark stood again. “We will receive bulletins from Holt.”
“Why?” asked Brunstetter. “Why is he willing to gather information for us?”
“Money problems,” answered Holt. “It almost always comes down to money.”
Gilda scoffed. “Allegiance bought is soon spent.”
Brunstetter ignored the lady meech. “When does he get the money?”
“Each time I deliver a report, I get a pittance. It will take me ten years to earn enough to pay my debts.”
“And if you get a better offer?” Brunstetter clenched a fist and spoke through tight lips. “A better offer would turn your loyalty?”
Lee Ark raised a hand. “Holt’s definition of pittance is a bit catty-wampus. He’s being paid handsomely for his information.”
Brunstetter scowled. “How does he deliver these reports?”
Holt smiled. “Through a winsome little kimen named Seezle.”
Gilda smoothed the material on her sleeve and adjusted the cuff. “At least she will be impervious to your charms.”
“You think?” Holt winked, and Gilda pressed her lips together, turning her face away.
“Tell us,” said Lee Ark. “What have you already discovered?”
“The Followers prefer to invite members who have property. The elders I first approached were rather cool until they found out about my father’s kindia farm and trading business.”
He wrinkled his nose. “I’ve been required to ‘sit under’ a mentor. At first you are designated a seeker. If you gain acceptance, you become a listener. At that point, listening is about all you are allowed to do. You listen with no questions asked. The next advancement is to repeat, where you may repeat the words you have heard.
“I am presently Listener Holt, so my perception of the repeat level is sketchy. Soon I will donate a sum of money provided by you generous souls, and I will advance. Yes, purity can be bought.”
Librettowit grumbled. “Purity’s gone down in price. Else, we couldn’t afford your uprightness without emptying the coffers in every province.”
Holt bobbed his head in cheerful agreement. “You’re right there. Now as to what else I know—there’s an inner circle called the inquirers. I assume these privileged members may ask questions to lead to higher enlightenment. At the top are the echoes, who repeat not only the formal words but have an ear to the Voice, and so they echo new precepts. Apparently there is only one Voice, and at my level, I’m not allowed to know much about him.”
“How do they get followers?” asked Kale. “Why don’t people see through the sham?”
Holt’s mobile eyebrows arched and fell as a cunning grin captured his lips. “The same as in any con. The Followers make the target feel important. He’s one of the few who are worthy of the calling. Then they make promises. Jump through this hoop, and you will be more important, more worthy. Each time you jump through the next hoop, your value in our little community will elevate. In the end you are promised power and glory equal to that of the Voice.”
Kale glanced at Gilda when Holt used the word “elevate,” but she seemed more interested in the intricate design on the fan she held than the conversation.
“What about Paladin and Wulder?” asked Bardon. “How do they lure Amarans away from our true God and His chosen spokesman?”
“They claim to be the new conduit of Wulder.” Holt fidgeted with a button on his jacket, gaze cast down.
Kale longed to enter his mind and find out what he was thinking. Why would this part of the discussion make him so uncomfortable? Is it because he knows we find such talk of a new conduit to be blasphemy? Or does he himself feel nervous at opposing Wulder’s will?
Holt looked up and spoke with forced boldness. “Paladin showed weakness in the war, and Wulder has chosen the Voice to replace him.”
Brunstetter shifted on his chair. The resulting creak assaulted Kale’s ears. She cringed.
“If I were a betting man,” said the urohm leader, “I would bet that once we get to this Voice and uncover his identity, we will find we’ve met him before.”
Librettowit nodded. “Lord Ire.”
“Pretender,” said Bardon.
“Another guise,” agreed Lee Ark, “and another attempt to overcome Wulder’s dominion.”
They sat in silence. Kale petitioned Wulder for guidance. As words formed in her mind, she felt Bardon join her with the same binding that caused them to work incredibly as one in a fight. This surprised her, and she felt his surprise resonate with hers. In one accord, they continued to put their concerns before Wulder and request strength for the battle to come. For a moment her spirit felt crowded, and then as if walls around her collapsed, the bond between her and her husband expanded to include Lee Ark, Librettowit, Regidor, and Toopka.
Tears streamed down Kale’s face, and she gazed at Toopka, who appeared to be sleeping in Holt’s lap. The child glowed. Kale took Bardon’s hand, but he, too, had seen.
“What does it mean?” she whispered, and the slight breeze caused by her words entered the hushed atmosphere and dissolved their bond.
Holt’s eyes were wide with astonishment, and his cocky demeanor had faded to an expression of wonder. Only Gilda’s face remained unchanged, still cold and indifferent.
Those who had participated in the joint petition seemed to shake themselves awake.
“I believe,” said Librettowit, “that Wulder has affirmed our purpose.”
“Indeed.” Lee Ark swept a hand across his face, wiping glistening tear tracks from his rugged cheeks. “If any of you uncover pertinent information on your travels, report. We will add that to our stockpile of facts concerning the Followers.”
Librettowit shuffled his feet on the wooden floor under the short bench where he sat. “When will Paladin act?”
“My first answer would be when Wulder directs. My second answer is when Paladin knows for sure he will be capturing the wicked perpetrators of this crime and not the gullible victims.”
Brunstetter nodded. “And when we can throw a net over all
of them without any slipping out to start more trouble elsewhere.”
Lee Ark looked around the room. “Any other questions?”
The gathering remained quiet.
“So,” said Lee Ark, “this meeting is adjourned.”
Gilda came to her feet. “Adjourned? We haven’t discussed the most important business at hand.”
Lee Ark raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“I have an egg to present. The meech colony must be found. No doubt, when we put our case before those learned elite, they will have answers for these minor inconveniences—bah!—Followers and bug-dragons. Finding the meech is synonymous with finding your answers.”
Bardon rose from his seat. “I am pledged to give support to the quest for the meech dragon colony.”
Lee Ark nodded while Librettowit and Brunstetter looked as if they would object.
Kale probed Bardon’s mind and picked up the barest essence of his instructions from Paladin. She stood and took her husband’s hand. “I will be questing, as well.”
“Fine,” said Lee Ark. “We go forth from this room, knowing the path Wulder has put before us. Our duty is to take each step as He makes clear His plan.”
“Aye,” said Librettowit, “and for once He’s letting an old librarian seek knowledge in books instead of on dusty roads among hostile creatures.”
“You can come with us,” offered Bardon.
Librettowit glared at him. “You had more perspicacity before you developed that confounded sense of humor.”
“Perspicacity?” asked Kale.
“Discernment, wisdom, insightfulness to what is appropriate,” answered Bardon. “Common sense.”
Dibl peeked out of one of Bardon’s big coat pockets. The little dragon chirruped and flipped his tail up so that the very tip lay in a curl on his own forehead.
“Bah!” said Librettowit and Gilda in the same breath.
Their eyes turned from the comical dragon and met in a fierce glare.
“If looks could kill…,” said Bardon.
Regidor cleared his throat. “We’d have two less members on our side of the battle line.”