“Hush!” said the man’s companion. “You never know who’s listening these days.”
A few minutes later Audun was back behind the dune changing from the clothes he’d been wearing into ones that matched those of the other travelers. After tucking away the small sack of coins he’d stolen, he turned back into a dragon and buried himself in the dune once again. The temperature dropped and Audun drifted off to sleep, smiling as he dreamt of Millie.
Audun woke the next morning before the sun was up, but not before the caravans had already begun to break camp. He turned back into a human and slipped into line behind other travelers even as the gates were opening. The crowd surged forward, shoving Audun to the edge, near where a group of soldiers on horse back waited to enter. He was nervous at first, remembering how the horse had reacted when he arrived in the castle courtyard in Greater Greensward, but when nothing happened and the horses ignored him, he stopped worrying that the animals might give him away.
Intent on their own business, none of the people around him showed any interest in a boy dressed in a plain, brown tunic, dusty leggings, and the typical head covering of desert dwellers, which suited Audun just fine. He moved forward, shuffling one step at a time as the people in the front of the line were admitted. As he waited, he listened to the chatter going on around him. Most of it seemed unimportant, but he began to listen in earnest when he heard soldiers lolling by the side of the road mention missing children.
“You see these blisters?” one soldier asked of another. “The day after I got here they sent me with a patrol to look for Cadmus’s brats. I nearly died out there, it was that hot. My brain was cookin’, my skin was sizzlin’, and I got blisters poppin’ up like mushrooms on manure. The captain wouldn’t let us turn around until we found those kids, but they’d disappeared like magic had carried ’em off. We were out there a whole week.”
“Stop your bellyachin’, Narwool,” said the soldier behind him. “We’ve all been out in the desert. We know what it’s like. I was in the patrol that had charge of the wizard’s enchanted vultures that he sent out to look for the children. He had little crystals tied around their necks. I heard the old man could see through those crystals as if he was there himself, no matter how far or high the birds flew. Of course, those birds splattered gook on the crystals every time they ate. It was our job to keep the crystals clean. Do you know how revolting it is to clean up after a vulture? It was the worst job I’ve ever had.”
“They never did find those kids,” said the soldier beside Narwool. “I was there when King Dolon heard they were missing. I’ve never seen him that angry before. He hates those kids with a vengeance. Do you think he would have killed them if they hadn’t disappeared?”
“Those brats got out just in time, if you ask me.”
Audun would have liked to have heard more, but the crowd had moved forward and it was finally his turn to pass through the gate. Three soldiers guarded the entranceway, yet only the oldest turned to look at Audun. The other two were more interested in talking to a pair of young women who didn’t seem interested in leaving.
“So what do we have here?” demanded the soldier. Audun’s breath hitched in his throat and he gazed at the man blankly, wondering how he could possibly have known that the young dragon masquerading as a human wasn’t what he seemed. But then the soldier added, “Why are you here, boy—business or plea sure?” and Audun exhaled in relief.
“I’m looking for a job,” he said, glad he had heard the men talking the night before. Obtaining a job in the castle would be the best way to get inside and would give him a legitimate reason for being there while he looked for the girl.
“Do you have a trade? What is it you do? Nobody is going to employ a boy your age who doesn’t have any skills.”
“I’m going to see the steward, Smugsby, at the castle. I understand they’re hiring.”
The soldier nodded, suddenly looking bored. He held out his hand and grunted, then seemed annoyed when Audun didn’t respond.
The woman in line behind Audun bumped him with her basket and whispered, “Don’t you know anything, boy? Give him a coin. There’s some of us what’s in a hurry.”
Audun fumbled for the small purse in the folds of his tunic. He had no idea how much the coins were worth, so he hoped the one he took out would be enough. The old soldier grunted when he saw it, and glanced at his companions, who were still talking to the young women. When they didn’t look his way, he tucked the coin into his own pocket. Giving Audun a slightly more respectful look, he nodded and let him pass as the woman behind him shuffled to the front of the line.
Although Audun could see the castle towering above the much shorter buildings of the city, the streets were laid out in such a confusing way that he kept finding himself in dead ends and roads that looped around to take him back to where he’d started. As a dragon he would have spread his wings and flown straight to the castle, but now he had to walk wherever he wanted to go and he wasn’t used to it. Soon his feet hurt and his legs ached, neither of which had ever happened to him before.
The area around the gate had been crowded, but the farther he went into the city, the fewer people he saw. Many of the buildings had been damaged or destroyed by fire. Abandoned possessions, broken and trampled into the mud around some of the larger, more prosperous-looking homes, gave evidence of looting. The few people that he passed hurried away once they saw him returning their gaze.
After a time Audun heard voices; he followed them to a square, empty except for women who were hauling buckets of water from a well. The castle was so close now that it blocked half of the sky. He could make out the damaged battlements, but they weren’t in as bad shape as he’d expected.
If the group of women hadn’t been there, he might have gotten a drink from the well, but he was still too self-conscious about posing as a human to want to start a conversation. He was about to continue on to the castle when he thought he saw Owen, the boy he had rescued from the roc, crossing the far end of the courtyard.
“Owen!” he yelled, drawing all eyes in their direction.
The boy stopped and stared, appearing stricken at hearing his name. Audun started toward him, but the boy took off, running into one of the alleyways that led from the courtyard. Audun had become adept at walking with human legs and feet, but running was another matter. After taking only a few running steps, his feet went out from under him and he sprawled on the smooth cobblestones. The women laughed at his clumsiness, making him feel even more self-conscious.
“Walk much or just practice a lot?” shouted a girl nearly his own age.
Peals of laughter rang out and Audun’s face reddened. He was never going to be able to pass as a human long enough to find the girl. Scrambling to his feet, he fled the courtyard, forgetting about following Owen as he made his way to the castle once more.
A crowd had already gathered by the time Audun reached the entrance to the castle, and once again he had to stand in line. Fortunately, only a short time later a guard led the job seekers into the castle, where he left them in a room too small for their numbers. While some of the men began to argue over the few available benches, Audun took a seat on the floor. Even in human form, he was taller than most, and stronger than all of them. He could have won any fight with ease, but dragons rarely fought unless it was over something of great importance.
Audun hadn’t been there long before he recognized the voices of some of the men from the night before. They were talking about the jobs they hoped to secure even as they were led one by one to meet with the castle steward. Only a handful of hopeful faces remained in the room when it was Audun’s turn.
A pinch-faced little man led him down the corridor to another room, where two men sat behind a wooden table looking tired and bored. His escort said, “Master Smugsby, sir, here is the next applicant,” then waited while the larger of the two men set a scrap of meat on a platter, licked his greasy fingers, and nodded. The nervous-looking assistant seated beside him to
ok a sheet of parchment from a pile and glanced up at Audun, his quill pen in his ink-stained hand.
Smugsby, the steward, looked as if he’d never denied himself anything. A golden chain gleamed from the folds of a tunic made of deep red fabric embroidered in threads of blue and yellow. Each finger of the hand resting on his bulging stomach bore a glittering ring and when he burped he patted his mouth with a delicate lace handkerchief. Be-hind him rested a treasure trove of bags and boxes, evidence of the applicants who had visited the room before Audun.
“What’s your name, boy?” Smugsby asked Audun, as the other man dipped his pen into a pot of ink.
“It’s Audun, sir,” he replied, glancing at the man who had begun to scratch on the parchment with the pen. “I’m from the north.”
Smugsby snorted and said, “I don’t care where you’re from, boy, just what you can do for me. What jobs have you had in the past?”
“None, really,” said Audun. Performing tasks for the dragon king and his council didn’t seem to count as a job.
“A son of the privileged class? There are a lot of you looking for work just now. We’ll try not to hold it against you.” Smugsby chuckled with his mouth open, showing Audun the gaps between his teeth. Turning to the other man he said, “Write that down—no prior work experience. What about skills?” he asked, turning back to Audun.
The dragon-turned-human thought hard. As a dragon he had plenty of valuable skills. He could fly, swim, hold his breath for a long time, find things by their scent, and slide down the ice on his belly. As a human he couldn’t do any of those things, except maybe the belly sliding. He could grip small items easily now and his skin was more sensitive without his scales, but he didn’t think the steward would find either of those things impressive.
“I assume from your silence that you don’t have any skills,” said Smugsby, as the other man’s pen scribbled away. “So tell me, lad, why should I hire you?”
Audun’s expression brightened. Here was a question he could answer. Swinging the sack onto the table, he took out the tankard and handed it to Smugsby. “Because I brought you this.”
Smugsby glanced at the tankard and scowled. “I should give you a job because you brought me an ordinary tankard? The thing isn’t even made of silver! Do you honestly think I’d demean myself by accepting anything less?” He glanced at the man beside him, who was writing down every word. “Scratch that out, Pringle. I told you there have been rumors that the king might start looking at the books.”
The man beside him looked pained. “I’ll have to redo the entire page. Scratch-outs aren’t allowed in the official records.”
“So do it,” snapped Smugsby. “But first you can escort this young scallywag out of the castle.”
Pringle sighed, crumpled the piece of parchment, and stood up. “Come with me, young man. You shouldn’t have wasted Master Smugsby’s time like—”
“But you haven’t even tried the tankard!” Audun told the steward. “Fill it with your favorite ale. Or wine if you prefer,” he said, talking faster as Pringle came around the table. “It’s a magic tankard. Fill it once and it will never be empty again.”
Smugsby quirked one eyebrow. “Magic you say? Now, where would a boy like you get a magic tankard?”
Audun was about to tell him that he’d bought it at the Magic Marketplace, but Smugsby waited only a heartbeat or two before saying, “I like a man who can be discreet. Pringle,” said the steward, as the other man reached for Audun, “do as he says. Fill it with ale—no, make that an expensive wine just in case, then bring it to me. If this boy is telling the truth, he’ll be rewarded with a job, but if he’s lying to the king’s steward, I’m sure they can find room for him in the dungeon.”
While Pringle went to do the steward’s bidding, Smugsby sat back in his chair and smiled at Audun. “You’ve provided me with entertainment, boy, something I rarely get these days. If you are telling the truth, I’ll have a magic tankard and a boy working for me who has enough skill to beg, buy, or steal one, any of which would be useful to me. If you are lying, I’ll see you thrashed and thrown into the dungeon for the rest of your days, which would be diverting in itself. Ah, there you are, Pringle. I hope you got me something tasty. I’ve worked up a thirst talking to the young scamp.”
Smugsby took the filled tankard, being careful not to spill a drop. Tilting his head back, the portly man began to drink. Both Audun and Pringle watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he took one gulp after another. Audun glanced at Pringle as the steward continued to drink. The man had looked skeptical at first, but his eyes grew wider and his jaw began to sag as Smugsby showed no sign of stopping. When the steward finally lowered his hand, smacked his lips, and sighed, Pringle ran around the table to look in the tankard. Even from where he stood, Audun could see that wine filled the tankard to the brim.
“Excellent!” Smugsby said, wiping his face, which had grown pinker with each gulp. “It looks like I’ve got a bottomless tankard, and you, my boy, have got yourself a job.”
“What should I write down?” asked Pringle, picking up a new sheet of parchment.
“Write that the boy is intelligent and will do admirably as my new assistant,” said Smugsby. “Then take him to get a new suit of clothes and his sleeping assignment.” He smiled as he turned to Audun. “You’ll start work in the morning. Come see me then.”
“But what do I do about the other applicants?” asked Pringle. “Don’t you want to see them?”
“Not today,” said Smugsby, smiling into the depths of the tankard. “Tell them to come back tomorrow. I’m going to be busy for the rest of the afternoon.”
Seventeen
Pringle took Audun down another corridor and into a small room where he dug through a trunk and found a plain blue tunic and brown leggings, much like the ones he was wearing himself. He handed over a pin identifying Audun as one of the steward’s men and said, “You’ll sleep in the room at the end of the corridor. Take one of those pallets,” he added, indicating a pile by the door, “and find a space on the floor. You’ll be eating with the rest of the servants. At first light, be in the room where you spoke with Master Smugsby to get your instructions for the day. Now, be off with you. I’m a busy man and you’ve already taken up too much of my time.”
Audun nodded, too excited by his success at getting a position in the castle to think of all the questions he should be asking. While Pringle retreated down the corridor, Audun picked up the cleanest-looking pallet and hefted it onto his shoulder. A trio of maids so alike that they had to be sisters watched him walk to the end of the corridor with obvious interest, but Audun simply said hello and continued to the room, mindful that these girls looked as if they belonged together. Although he really didn’t know what a girl who didn’t belong would look like, he was certain that she wouldn’t have family around.
The room was larger than the one he’d been given when he first arrived at the dragon stronghold, but the walls were lined with rolled-up pallets so Audun knew that come nightfall he’d be sharing the room with quite a few others. In the meantime, the remaining hours until supper were his own and he decided that it was the perfect opportunity to go exploring and begin his search for the girl. Hoping to blend in, he changed his clothes and tucked his old ones inside the bedding on the pallet before setting it against the wall. He would find the girl right away, if he was lucky, and never have to come back to this room again.
Audun headed toward the Great Hall first, having passed the entrance in the corridor when he was walking with Pringle. Song of the Glacier had told him to look for an orphan girl who didn’t belong. Galen, one of the boys he’d found in the desert, had told him that all the children who’d been left without parents had been brought to the castle. Didn’t that mean that none of them really belonged? He’d have to find the orphans and see if one of the girls stood out from all the rest.
Once he stepped inside the Great Hall, he realized that it was bigger than the dragon king’s au
dience room. He stood gaping at the high ceiling and weapon-decorated walls until he heard a group of pages and younger squires making rude comments about the peasant from the country.
“Don’t pay them any mind,” a dirty-faced boy with scruffy brown hair said, stopping by Audun’s elbow. There was a smudge of ash on his upturned nose and one of his front teeth was chipped. He looked as if he couldn’t be more than nine or ten years old and the top of his head scarcely reached Audun’s chest. Obviously a servant, he was carrying rags and a bucket and was dressed in a soiled tunic and patched leggings with shoes so ragged that most of his toes were showing. Although humans rarely washed and usually smelled of body odor or perfume, this boy smelled like he’d rolled in a pigpen and hugged an old billy goat. Audun didn’t care. He thought most humans smelled bad, anyway. “They want everyone to think they’re sophisticated,” the boy continued, “but half of them are from the country themselves.”
“I’m surprised there are so many people here,” said Audun. “Did they all come with King Dolon?”
“Just the ones who are acting all puffed up like they’re something special,” said the boy, glancing at a young woman walking heedlessly through a cluster of people who stepped aside as she’d obviously expected them to do. “That’s Dolon’s daughter, Gabriella. She used to be called Gabby, back when her uncle was king. The nobles who are here were either Dolon’s friends or the ones who changed allegiances as soon as they saw which way the wind was blowing.”
“What about you?” asked Audun. “It sounds like you’ve been here awhile.”