Dragons of the Watch (44 page)

“It is indeed your niece.” He patted his wife’s hand, which clutched the open window’s edge.

She jerked her hand away and used both to cover her face. She moaned.

Uncle Stemikenjon merely raised his eyebrows and addressed Ellie. “How did you reach this point before us? And what happened to your clothes and your carpetbag?”

“Have her get in,” Aunt Tiffenbeth ordered from behind her hands. “Before someone sees her.”

“Oh, right,” said her uncle. He opened the door, descended, and gave his arm to support Ellie as she stepped on the small runner beneath the door. “I apologize for being tardy in bringing you in. I’m a bit baffled by your appearance. Not just your physical appearance, your clothes, your missing carpetbag, but also that you managed to come all this way in the inclement weather and get here first. An appearance out of nowhere, so to speak.”

“Where is the goat?” asked Aunt Tiffenbeth, her words still muffled behind her hands. “She doesn’t still have the goat, does she?”

Uncle Stemikenjon gave a quick glance around in all directions. “Apparently not.”

Ellie settled on the upholstered bench beside her aunt. “Tak is … is being taken care of.”

The coach swayed as her uncle climbed in and took his seat opposite the ladies. He shut the door, leaned out the window, and ordered, “Drive on.”

The carriage jerked into motion.

Aunt Tiffenbeth took her hands from her face, shuddered when she once again saw Ellie, and turned her eyes to the scenery passing.

She whispered in a dramatic undertone, “Tell me what happened, Ellicinderpart.”

Ellie couldn’t think of a good place to begin. Fortunately her aunt prodded. “What happened to your carpetbag?”

“A gang of wild children stole it.”

Her aunt nodded as if she heard of such things every day. “And your attire?”

“I’d gotten muddy, so I stopped in a cave to change.” She paused. “And to get out of the rain for a while.”

Aunt Tiffenbeth’s eyes drifted back to survey her niece, then darted back to the more pleasant view of grass and trees and cottages. They approached the crossroads village.

“And why did you choose that particular combination of clothing?”

Ellie looked down at her mismatched outfit. What she was wearing hadn’t concerned her for the months she’d been in Rumbard City.

“The children pulled my clothes out of the bag and threw them all over the place. They carried off most of my belongings. This is what I could find to wear.”

“Stemikenjon, you shall inform the magistrate of this area about this barbaric crime.”

“Of course.” He nodded his head, and Ellie realized he’d picked up his book and was reading again. Perhaps he and Old One, or Humbaken Florn, could discuss books. Master Florn could use a friend with similar interests. Maybe she could arrange for Gramps and Humbaken Florn to meet. Once she found Bealomondore and Wizard Fenworth and they broke the bottle around the city.

Aunt Tiffenbeth’s expressions reflected the different emotions she sorted through before she could handle the situation in her usual sensible, ordered manner. The family often counted on her to rise to any challenge that faced them. “The clothes in the trunk on the roof are too fancy to wear on the journey. We shall have to stop at a dress shop in one of the villages.”

Ellie’s former appreciation for her aunt crept back. She’d resented being dumped beside the road to take care of a wayward goat, but her
aunt would come through for her. The shock was wearing off, and the practical details became the focus of attention.

Her aunt went on to describe how they would manage to buy clothing and get Ellie changed without causing a stir. Aunt Tiffenbeth would purchase the needed garments, then Ellie would change inside the coach with the windows in place and the curtains drawn.

Ellie gasped at a sudden revelation. She’d come out of the bottle at the same place she’d fallen in. And she’d also come out on the same day. She blurted a question out without thinking. “Are we still going to the coronation, to the wedding?”

Aunt Tiffenbeth frowned at her. “Of course. You aren’t to be punished for this little mishap. Obviously you ran into circumstances beyond your control. It is fortunate that you are not hurt. Clothes can be replaced.”

Ellie started to throw her arms around her aunt but stopped. Her aunt wasn’t quite ready to accept an embrace from a dirty ragamuffin niece.

Ellie settled for words. “Thank you, Aunt.” She smiled at the top of her uncle’s head as he bent over his book. “Thank you, Uncle.”

He grunted.

“Aunt Tiffenbeth, do you know of a society artist named Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore?”

“Oh, my girl, you are unsophisticated. Everyone knows of Bealomondore. He’s famous for various escapades. He was important in the war and helped save the country. He’s been on quests with Paladin. Perhaps that’s where you’ve heard his name. He’s a good friend to the princess and is mentored by Verrin Schope himself.”

“Do you think we can meet him in Ragar?”

“Oh, dear girl, no. Your uncle and I don’t belong to that circle of
society. They are rather above us. Not that I would want to be caught up in that level of our culture. So much is done merely to impress. An inordinate amount of expense is involved in dressing and providing hospitality and traveling to galas. I’d rather your Uncle Stemikenjon spend his money on our own little comforts that please us and make us comfortable. The alternative is to spend it to garner the favor of people you hardly know and to accrue praise of little worth.”

Ellie pondered her aunt’s words. Perhaps she was right after all. Perhaps she and Bealomondore had been parted as the gentlest way to end their relationship. The chances of meeting Bealomondore in the crowded city, among all the high society people, were slim. Nonexistent.

Then she remembered Bealomondore’s proposal in the subter. And his kiss. The tingle in her toes at the memory determined her course. She was going to look for him and hope he was looking for her.

Ellie stood with her aunt and uncle on a balcony overlooking Palace Fairway, the street that led directly to the Amber Palace. Thousands of people lined the streets below. The coronation parade proceeded slowly along the plotted route. Aunt Tiffenbeth’s friend pointed out the personalities in each open carriage as they passed in front of the hotel.

“This carriage has the councilors and their wives. I’d name them all, but I only want to name a few of those participating in the parade. You’d be overwhelmed by a hundred or so names you’ll never need to know.”

Aunt Tiffenbeth smiled and nodded. “I do want you to point out Sir Beccaroon.”

“All grand parrots look alike, but I will try. Dikendraval has a program.”

She leaned forward a bit to look down the line of people watching the parade to where her daughter stood with Ellie. “Dikendraval, let us know when the carriage with Sir Beccaroon comes by.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Ellie bounced on her toes. “There!” She pointed to a carriage way down the street that had just turned the corner to make the approach to the palace. “That’s him. That’s Bealomondore!”

Aunt Tiffenbeth arched an eyebrow at her. Ellie saw the look and interpreted what her aunt wanted. Ellie refrained from bouncing like a
country bumpkin and folded her hands demurely in front of her waist. Aunt Tiffenbeth nodded her approval.

Ellie closed her eyes and tried to reach Bealomondore by mindspeaking. When she listened with her mind, she heard thoughts from all the people around. The sudden uproar shocked her, and her hands came up to cover her ears. That didn’t help at all, so she closed her mind against the cacophony.

She turned to her new friend, Dikendraval. “I’ve got to go down there. I must speak to him.”

Dikendraval’s eyes grew big, and she clamped both hands on Ellie’s arm. “You can’t. It’s not safe for you to be down there in the crowd. You could get knocked over. And there are thieves who would steal your reticule. And”—Dikendraval stretched out her last objection with a dramatic flair—“you could ruin your reputation.”

“I don’t have a reputation, Dikendraval. I’m nobody.”

The city tumanhofer schooled her face into an expression of haughty sophistication. She leaned forward and whispered, “My mother would tell. I love my mother, but she is a gossip, and the juicier the tidbit, the more she will chew on it.” Dikendraval let her staged face slip. “We’ll have to attract his attention from up here.”

“How?”

Dikendraval leaned forward to look at her parents. Her mother cast her a severe look, and she straightened up. “It’s hopeless, Ellicinderpart. My mother would catch us for sure. I never get away with anything.”

Ellie’s eyes had been on the progression of the parade. She turned back to look straight at Dikendraval. “I’m going down there.”

“No!” Dikendraval’s grip on her arm tightened. “I have a better idea. We’ll go be servants at the Muskagillians’ Ball.”

“Servants? Your mother won’t let me go down to the street, but she’d let us masquerade as servants?”

“Everyone does it. Well, all the young women. You get a chance to see all the fabulous ball gowns, hear the music, and all you do is carry trays into the public rooms and offer refreshments to the guests. It’s the only way you or I will ever get to see such grandeur. My mother and probably your aunt did the same thing when they were young.”

Ellie looked at Aunt Tiffenbeth’s flushed face. Her aunt admired the people parading past. Her own heart had been set on seeing this pageantry, but after months in a bottle city with Bealomondore, all she wanted was to see him.

She heard Dikendraval’s mother say, “The people in the next carriage are friends of Princess Tipper. The skinny old man is Wizard Fenworth. The tumanhofer beside him is a librarian and works for the wizard. His name is Librettowit. I thought Sir Beccaroon would be in this coach, but he may be in the parent carriage later on. The tumanhofer in the red coat is Graddapotmorphit Bealomondore, a very talented man who has a varied career from warrior to society darling. Five years ago, everyone who was anyone wanted a Bealomondore portrait hanging in their homes. Now he is more of a statesman than a pet of the upper classes.”

The carriage passed directly under their balcony. Ellie and Dikendraval jumped up and down, waving their arms in the air, and calling out to Bealomondore.

“Girls!” Aunt Tiffenbeth and her friend shoved past their spouses to bring the two young women in line.

Dikendraval’s mother went so far as to wrap her arms around her daughter and hold her still. “You must be an example to our country guest. She doesn’t necessarily know how to behave, but you do.”

Ellicinderpart and Dikendraval had listened to a three-hour-long lecture about correct behavior in polite society. The aunt and mother even pulled out a book on etiquette and read chapters from between the covers. Ellie agonized over whether or not they’d be allowed to serve at the Muskagillians’ Ball. In the end, Dikendraval’s father and her uncle took pity on the poor young ladies, cut short the scolding, and sent them off to get dressed.

The uniforms for service were a deep purple with a white apron, white collar, and white band around the hem. They looked better than the few dresses Ellie had owned before joining her aunt and uncle. Her aunt had wrangled her curly hair into a snood to keep it back from her face as she served.

Now she entered the back door of the Muskagillians’ mansion and could hardly contain her anticipation. Surely Bealomondore would be here. Dikendraval said
everyone
would be here.

The house chef explained their duties. Each of the volunteer servants had a silver tray. They arranged the appetizers on the tray themselves from a huge table laden with mouth-watering morsels of food. They would tour the public rooms of the mansion until their trays were half empty. The young ladies would then return to replenish the appetizers. The cycle would be repeated until the guests sat down for a late supper. A few of the experienced servants would wait on the tables. The other girls were encouraged to gather in the kitchen and sample the leftovers.

On her first foray into the public rooms, Ellie spotted Wizard Fenworth’s pointed hat. She meandered in that direction, hoping to deliver the message given to her by Wizard Pater. She also hoped to find
out if Bealomondore had spoken to him about the bottle city and where her tumanhofer friend might be.