Dragons of the Watch (22 page)

He knew minor dragons to be a very social group. On top of all the questions that had been stirring his thoughts for the months he’d been here, a whole new set strung out along this line of reasoning. He hoped Old One had suddenly become communicative.

“Bealomondore,” Ellie called.

He followed the sound of her voice. The kettle boiled. She’d put cups and saucers and the fancy china teapot on a tray and arranged six daggarts on a pretty plate. She held spoons in one hand and a sugar bowl in the other. Her face showed signs of a tearful eruption about to surface.

She pointed with the spoons to the tray. “It’s too heavy for me to carry it all.”

Bealomondore wondered if he should reassure her that everything would be all right. Somehow those words had never made him feel better. “I’m sorry. I should have offered to carry it.”

She clenched the spoons until her knuckles turned white. Leaning closer to Bealomondore, she whispered, “What do you think he’s upset about?”

“I have no idea.” He thought about the old man for a moment. “It might be he’s made up something to justify his accepting the opportunity to have tea and daggarts.”

She put the sugar bowl and spoons on the tray. “He did say he knew we had the daggarts. Do you suppose he was watching for us to return?”

“Perhaps. He was looking out the window when I came toward the library. However, he looked outraged and not the least bit glad.”

“Oh, I hope this wins his friendship. Everything would be so much more pleasant then.”

“We’ll give tea and daggarts a try.”

He lifted the tray, and Ellie, carrying the plate of daggarts, followed him to the rotunda. The gentleman had not yet appeared. Bealomondore returned for the kettle and a small chair.

Ellie scurried behind him, carrying the second seat. “I’ll feel more dignified sitting in a chair my own size.”

Bealomondore agreed, although on his own he probably wouldn’t have thought of his dignity being compromised by huge furniture.

This time, when they rounded the last corner, Old One sat in the chair they had always assumed was his favorite. Ellie caught a gasp before it flung itself out of her mouth and embarrassed her.

She had expected him to be huge, but she doubted her head was much higher than his knee. If he struck a blow to one of them, there would be no waking up. But he looked peaceful enough, even with his sour face.

He wore old-fashioned clothing that reminded her of the mayor of
their little village. That should have made her less timid, but she’d never liked the mayor. Old One’s shoes were polished, and his hair gleamed in the light of the afternoon sun.

Blinking, Ellie focused on Old One’s shoulder. A truly ugly minor dragon perched there, looking Ellie over as much as Ellie stared at him. While brilliant clear colors sparkled in the scales of the dragons of the watch, this poor thing had only gray highlighting his wings. The dragon looked like a dirty old rag. It turned its head away.

A horrible thought went through her head.
Oh, dear. I hope I haven’t hurt its feelings
.

His head jerked back.

“His feelings,”
she heard in her mind.
“I am male. My name is Orli, which means ‘light unto you.’ ”
The dragon winked.
“You shall see beauty when and if I ever shine in your presence. It will be worth the wait.”

Ellie swallowed what felt like her heart in her throat and tried to look brave and unconcerned as she followed Bealomondore to the table. He placed the kettle on the center table next to the tray and bowed to Old One. He made a second bow to Orli.

Ellie clasped her hands and curtsied first to the urohm and then to his dragon.

The performance of a common curtsy made her feel less timid. She decided to test to see just how unobliging this old man was.

“Would you pour from the kettle to the teapot?” she asked. “It’s too heavy for us when it’s so full.”

Old One narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment. He then grasped the kettle, lifted the lid on the teapot, and poured in the steaming water. He put the lid back and set the kettle down.

“There,” he said. “I’ve done your duty as hostess.”

Ellie lowered her chin to avoid giving away her annoyance. She bit
her lip and willed Bealomondore to take over the conversation. He jumped in immediately, and she wondered if he’d heard her thoughts as he had earlier. Or was his intervention coincidence?

Bealomondore talked easily, never allowing a long silence to become uncomfortable. He spoke of Chiril and the recent war, the wizard from Amara, and Paladin, who strove to introduce ignorant Chirilians to their Creator. Several times, Ellie felt tension in Orli, though she heard no words. And when she glanced at Old One, his face appeared to have frozen in a disapproving glare.

The tea steeped. When the aroma tickled her nose and told her the flavor should be just right, Ellie poured from the teapot to the cups. She worried that Old One would be hard to please and remembered all the things her mother had said about a proper tea. She offered Old One sugar. He took two spoonfuls. She passed the daggarts, and he took three.

That left a daggart apiece for her and Bealomondore. And one more. She offered the plate to Orli first. He looked up at her in surprise. She broke the daggart into pieces and put them on a napkin on the table. Orli flew down to enjoy the treat.

Ellie handed the plate with two daggarts to Bealomondore.

“Would you like tea as well, Orli? I’m sorry I did not think to ask before.”

She got his answer.
“Yes, in a saucer, please, with a little sugar.”

“What is this?” demanded Old One. “How do you know his name?”

“He told it to me, sir.”

Orli concentrated on the piece of daggart in his hand, or rather, claw. Ellie thought his concentration was a little overplayed.

Old One glared at her, then at Orli, who didn’t appear to notice. Finally he expelled a growly sigh. “I shall not let this subvert my enjoyment of this tea. But I have not forgotten nor put aside this irregularity.”

Ellie bobbed her head, fixed a saucer of tea for Orli, and hurried to sit in the chair next to Bealomondore.

She held her teacup with two hands and enjoyed the warm brew. Her daggart tasted just as fresh as the ones she and Bealomondore had eaten from the oven. All the trouble they’d gone to paid off with each crunchy bite.

They didn’t converse while they ate. She brewed more tea, and they each had another cup. Orli had another saucerful.

When Old One finished his last daggart, he put down his saucer and cup, folded his napkin, and reestablished his crotchety expression.

Clearing his throat, he produced a voice to rival any judge of doom in a courtroom. “We must talk of what is allowed and what is not allowed. You have upset the citizens of Rumbard City.”

“Do you mean the children?” asked Bealomondore.

“Of course I mean the children.”

“I thought perhaps you referred to yourself and Orli. And maybe the dragons of the watch.”

“Bah! A worthless crew, that watch. They quit reporting to me a century or more past.”

A picture of Old One throwing shoes at the tiny dragons entered Ellie’s mind, and she gave a start of a chuckle that she tried to hide. Orli barely glowed, but with a pink pearlescence. Bealomondore snorted a wayward laugh as well. Ellie looked at him, caught him looking at her, and they both burst into laughter.

Old One’s voice rose. “I’ve been watching you two. You have deplorable manners. Rummaging through my things. Cavorting and giggling and retaining no dignity, which is supposed to be displayed at all times in the great hall of books.”

His eyes went to a pillar, and a fiercer frown darkened his face. He stood and marched to the column, grabbed hold of an overgrown fern, and wrenched the branches downward. While holding the fanning leaves aside, he pointed to a sign.

With authority deepening his already impressive tone, he read. “A quiet voice and attitude are welcome in the library.”

Bealomondore managed to compose himself. Ellie chose to stare at her hands.

“So,” said Bealomondore respectfully, “you wish to speak to us about our treatment of the children and our lack of decorum in the library.”

Old One let go of the branches. They snapped back, whacking the pillar. An unusual sound followed as the sign tilted, then slid down to the floor, where it clunked.

“Yes!” Old One shouted. “The citizens of Rumbard City were left under my care, and you shall not distress them.”

Fire raced through Ellie, and she stood, her head tilted back so she could look directly in the urohm’s face. If she’d had time to clamber to a higher post, she would have. But anger fueled her tongue, and outrage spurred her on.

“
You
are in charge of those poor children? You’re responsible for their welfare? Sir! It is disgraceful. They are neglected. They’ve had no guidance. They live as animals in a pack, like wolves and muskoxen.”

“Muskoxen?” Old One looked at Bealomondore, who shrugged.

Ellie shook a fist toward the old urohm. “Those little children have
no concept of right or wrong. They’re forced to fight for a portion of food. No one washes behind their ears. No one tucks them in at night. No one cleans a skinned knee and applies a bandage.
You
are in charge? You should be ashamed.”

Tears rolled down Ellie’s cheeks. She backhanded a swipe to get rid of them, but they flowed too heavily.

Still riding on a flow of fury, she asked, “Who put you in charge?”

“I don’t rightly remember. I think maybe it came to me by default. I’m the only adult left, you see. They’re an unruly bunch, you see. I gave up.”

Bealomondore stood and put his arm around Ellie. She tried to control the quivering of ire, and his warmth calmed her.

“We are aware of your status, sir,” said Bealomondore. “Perhaps we could be of assistance to each other.”

A glimmer of hope crossed the old man’s face. “Could be. Could be.” He paused, giving them an appraising stare. “Help to one another? Could very well be the best thing that has happened to me, your being trapped. But I don’t expect you to think of that as a good thing.”

Bealomondore looked at Ellie and smiled. “I’ve discovered that good things are found in the most unusual places.” He turned to the old urohm. “How may we be of service to you?”

“My first act of cooperation should be welcome in your eyes and a service to me. You see, I know of a place to bake daggarts, not nearly as far away as where you went. You should have asked. No harm in asking. Lot of difficulties when you run off, thinking you know it all.”

Ellie started to react, but Bealomondore squeezed her a tad, and Orli’s thoughts interrupted hers. The minor dragon reminded her that old age was a trial that Old One had borne all alone for far too many years.
“Mercy. Compassion. Patience.”

She turned to Bealomondore and knew he’d heard exactly the same counsel. They might grow old together stuck in a bottle city, but at least they would have each other. They could give to this old man what didn’t cost them but a little kindness.

Today seemed like any other day in the library. Except for Old One sitting in the rotunda instead of lurking in the balcony shadows. Orli lay across the back of the old man’s chair. Ellie tried to concentrate on the reading before her, but she just couldn’t. She shifted in the overlarge chair, pulled a pillow on her lap, and rested the book against it. Her hands became sore after holding even the smaller books for several hours. She wouldn’t let that happen today.