Dragon Rescue (28 page)

“No harm done, except that the knave has escaped us,” growled Murdan with a shrug and a rueful shake of his own head. “Good riddance, I say!”

“Just a wicked, heartless knave,” agreed Manda. “Yet, I’ve wondered...why so loyal to Uncle Peter for so many years? Even went into a very dangerous exile with him. Why? Does anyone know?”

“We can’t question him about it,” said her husband. “But I don’t really think anyone knows who or what the Accountant really was.”

“It occurs to me,” the Queen thought aloud, “that Plume was...is perhaps more than he appeared to us.”

“Smart as a whip, I’ll give him that, the infernal little sneak!” said Graham. “He saw that Retruance had left, Furbetrance gone away, and even the Ice Dragon flown off homeward, so if we are to chase him, we’d have to do it on horseback, not by Dragon!”

“How much of a start has he got, do you estimate?” the King asked the Captain.

“If he left Lexor after dark the night before I arrived, sire, he can be a half continent or more away already, sire. Farther, if he found a horse to steal.”

Murdan said, “Good riddance! I am inclined to let him go—”

“Except,” Tom interrupted, “I agree with the King. I’d like to ask him a few pointed questions myself.”

“It’s entirely possible he knows the answers—don’t you agree?”

Eduard asked Murdan.

“Entirely possible, Lord King,” said the Historian. “But I for one cannot begin to guess what his role really was. Peter here tells me Plume came to him, offering his services as a spy within Overall. Not the other way around.”

“Plume’s part of the problem, no doubt,” Tom agreed. “Maybe part of the answer, too?
Someone
brought me here to Carolna, to this Elfin world. And someone unknown tried to shuffle Peter aside and use the Relling invasion to destroy the whole kingdom. Does anyone have the least idea who and why?”

“Not the least, as yet,” admitted Murdan. “But I intend to nose him out, if I possibly can. With your permission, sire?”

“Of course, but with extreme care, old friend,” said the King after a moment of consideration. “It should not allay our happiness of the moment, however. Call the servants to send in something hot to drink.

All this talk of mysterious
interlopers
has given me the chills!”

Retruance and his papa in the quiet middle of Sinking Marsh said they would keep their eyes peeled for the fleeing former Overhall Accountant. If Plume fled south, he should perhaps pass close to the Dragon’s Island position.

Furbetrance, about to return with his Dragon wife to Obsidia Isle, said they would begin a search for the fleeing spy farther west.

Arbitrance assured Murdan that he was well enough to take care of himself, so his sons could concentrate on the hunt.

“In another week I’ll join them,” he insisted. “My wing is almost healed. Dragon bones heal quite fast, as you know.”

Two weeks later, as Manda, Tom, Clem, and Mornie and her sons prepared to lead a long train of horse-drawn sleighs heavily laden with tools, furniture, and materials for Hidden Lake Canyon, Retruance came to Overhall to report the four great Constable Dragons—seven, if you included the Obsidia Isle kits—had enjoyed little luck in their search for the runaway Accountant.

“A ferryman on the Cristol says he traded passage for an Overhall pony two weeks past. He recognized the description of Plume when I gave it to him. Said the rider had proper documents
and
a bill of sale for the horse, but would offer no cash to cross the river.”

“Old Plume was ever a clever counterfeiter,” Tom recalled. “He traveled faster than news of his escape, I see.”

“What else did the ferryman say?” Clem asked.

“Just that the man went on afoot, heading south through the marshy country east of Waterfields—as far as he could tell. If he swung to the west after a short way, he avoided the wetlands entirely,”

Retruance told them. “A bit farther south and then west and he’d be lost in the hardwood forest of northern Isthmusi. Once under the dense trees in the forest proper, as I can attest, he could hide or run forever without ever being seen.”

“We’ll have to do it the hard way, then,” sighed Tom. “Track him afoot.”

“We Dragons will continue to search and ask for him,” Retruance promised. “Papa’s particularly eager to recapture Plume, for obvious reasons. But...nobody has even rudimentary maps of that area far to the south. There are said to be terrible beasts and dreadful chasms and...well, so they say.”

“I think he’s escaped us this time,” said Manda with a sigh, climbing into the sleigh and pulling the thick, warm fur robes about her, for it was by now full winter at Overhall. The day was bitterly cold, diamond clear, and still. “I think all we can do is watch out and play a waiting game. We can only be ready to spot him, when and if he surfaces, again. He
may
be gone forever. Who can tell?”

“Well, well,” said her husband. “I suppose you’re right, sweet mother-to-be. Meanwhile our lives must proceed. We’ve the baby to consider. I can’t go off on a wild-goose chase and leave you to bear our child alone.”

“If it were necessary,” said Manda stoutly, “I’d insist you go. But for now let’s move to where it’s warmer and drier. It would be nice to have a roof over our heads when the baby comes next summer.”

“We’ll keep in touch, of course,” said Tom’s Dragon. “Especially as your time draws near, Princess. If you need anyone fetched to the canyon, or need to be taken anywhere...I mean, if the birthing proves difficult...”

“I’ll call on Furbetrance, of course,” said Manda, grinning happily. “He has the right to pamper his own Companion.”

“Of course,” Retruance apologized. “I was really thinking more of the father of the child. My experience is, first-time fathers need more care than the new mothers. You’ll remember Eduard Ten before the twins were born, Tom?”

“Off with you, then!” cried Murdan. “I’ve got work to do, and so do you. Write often! Keep your feet dry! Don’t get too much sun! I can recall Arbitrance and be there in a couple of days at most if you need me—any or either or all of you!”

The four young people and the two little Clemssons, highly excited about riding in a horse-drawn sleigh, transport seldom used in rugged Broken Land, waved as the four-horse rigs filed down the slope from Overhall’s foregate, and turned southwest along the frozen course of Overhall Stream.

The morning sun struck the snow-carpeted landscape with almost painful brightness. Tall pines and wide-spreading, brown-leaved king oaks, all covered with heavy frost, sparkled like trees of diamonds.

The horse’s hooves were almost silent in the snow, but the harness bells jingled pleasantly and the sleigh runners hummed a high-pitched winter song as they dashed along.

Chapter Eighteen

Hidden Canyon Spring

Princess Alix Amanda Trusslo-Whitehead of Hidden Lake Canyon—a herald’s mouthful, she always thought—squirmed and giggled aloud.

“What is it?” demanded her young husband in sudden alarm.

Spring had already come to their canyon. The alders and the birch along the lakeside were all but in full summer leaf. Tom was resting in the shade with his wife for a moment before going back to supervising the work of erecting the thick sandstone outer walls of their house.

The weather was summer hot but perfectly dry and clear as far as the eye could see, even way out over the flat, sandy desert to the south.

Off to one side, Clem was instructing a party of workmen on the uses of broadaxes in squaring great redwood beams and rafters brought by Dragon from the upper west coast.

On the rim of the canyon, high overhead, Arbitrance and his father argued about some esoteric point of architecture. The youngest Dragon and his wife and children, up for a long visit as the equinox approached, were making themselves useful bringing in the great tree trunks or running the treadmill that drove the big buzz-saw in the mill a short way downstream.

They had proved themselves much more efficient than the mill’s undershot waterwheel Clem had built back in midwinter. Things were going well and fast.

Manda giggled again.

“Oh, just the baby kicking against my side,” the Princess said, gasping, when she could stop laughing. “He’s strong and determined, I swear. Like his papa.”

“Of perhaps
she’s
eager and excited, like her mama,” said Tom, smiling a bit foolishly down at her.

A shadow moved in the aspen wood nearby and Tom caught sight of the graceful, somewhat menacing form of Julia, the canyon’s resident Jaguar. In a moment the big cat was beside Manda, who reached out to stroke the soft fur behind her ears.

Julia purred delightedly, eyes slitted half-closed.

“All goes well, I see,” the cat murmured. “I’ll sit with the mother-to-be for a while, Sir Tom, if you’ve work to do. The sun is not too warm here, Princess?”

“Absolutely delightful. But I’ve work to do, also,” answered Manda, bouncing to her feet. “Come along, Julia! You can help me decide the colors for the nursery.”

“Beige and fawn, of course,” said the cat instantly and firmly, walking beside her, close enough to touch. “No kitten should have to look at just pink or pale blue when she wakes!”

“ ‘She’? Is that a guess or a prediction?” called Tom as he watched them go, but they were already out of earshot.

Tom watched the two—three, really—until they disappeared into the half-finished building. Manda bore her inner burden gracefully.

He had never seen her more glowingly beautiful.

Another shadow, dark against the sky this time, caught his attention.

Furbetrance raised a cry. Arbitrance and he dropped down into the canyon on wide-spread wings.

Retruance had arrived, calling out to them all.

“What news?” shouted Tom, running to meet his own special Dragon.

“Nothing new on Plume if that’s what you mean. He definitely did go south into Isthmusi, however. I’ve got all the Lofters watching out for him. I just came by to tell you Murdan, Rosemary, and Ffallmar and their kits are but a day’s ride away. They should be here by afternoon tomorrow.”

“Good!” cried Tom. “I was seeing myself delivering a baby with the assistance of a Jaguar.”

“And half a dozen Dragons,” added Arbitrance with a loud guffaw.

“The Dragon way is better! Eggs laid in a soft nest and Papa as far away as possible, until hatching time comes!”

Retruance went on as if never interrupted.

“The King’s declared the Relling War officially at an end. Except for the Relling colony at Plaingirt—they’re still there, petitioning the King to be allowed to stay permanently, as Murdan guessed they would—all our late enemies have been driven well beyond Frontier.”

“All
is
well, then!” the Librarian exclaimed with some satisfaction.

“As well as things ever are in real life,” agreed Retruance Constable.

“There’s always something coming along, somewhere, you can bet,” said his father. “Come up to the rim and see if you agree with me—or Furbie—about the roof line of Great Hall. I say it should be square with side hips for lighting. The boy wants it three times longer than it is wide, in the old-fashioned mode.”

Arguing good-naturedly, the three Dragons, father and two grown sons, flapped up to the rimrock, leaving Tom to walk toward his house to tell his wife of approaching guests.

About the Author

Don Callander is the best-selling author of

the ‘Mancer series and the Companion series.

Don originally worked as a travel writer/pho-

tographer and graphic designer before retiring

to start his writing.

Don was born in Minneapolis, brought up

in Duluth, Minnesota, and graduated from high

school there before enlisting in the U. S. Navy in 1947. After serving four years on active duty (including the Korean War) he transferred to

the Naval Reserve where he served as a ‘week-

end warrior’ for twenty additional years.

He settled in Washington, D.C., where he married, raised four children, and worked on the Washington Post newspaper and in National Headquarters of the American Automobile Association (40,000,000 members!) until his retirement in 1991. He currently lives in Florida.