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A TAVERN IN THE TOWN

Sir Kemry picked up the ropma’s trail quickly with the help of Pat, who spent more time on the ground, where there was plenty to eat, than in the air. They tracked the beast down the mountainside and through a canyon, then up a ridge. Bug traveled at great speed.

Sir Kemry shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun and scanned the harsh mountains. “I doubt that we will catch up to him before he makes it home.”

“Then we shall meet Mrs. Bug and the little bas.” Kale grinned at the prospect.

“I’d suggest we stop and eat, but look over to the east. That looks like an unpleasant storm.”

Kale followed his line of sight and saw black, brooding clouds billowing above the profile of the next range.

She pointed to the base of a cliff. “That looks to be a town. Should we seek shelter?”

“Shelter and information, I think.” Sir Kemry tapped his walking staff on the ground. “Let’s make haste. I prefer not to sleep this night in the open.”

“I could send Pat and Filia to follow Bug and then join us in the settlement.”

“Good idea. Tell them not to expose themselves to the storm, though.”

Kale sighed but made no retort. “Yes, of course.”

She sent the two minor dragons on to catch up to Bug and keep an eye on him. They knew not to take chances and how to find her when their mission was completed. Pat’s and Filia’s personalities wrapped tightly around practicality. The little dragons flew up the mountain path while Kale and the others turned downward. Sir Kemry removed his cloak and pulled out a thin sweater that he pulled over his head.

“Your mother knitted this.”

“Then it must be warmer than it looks.”

He smiled. “Toasty, like sitting at home by the hearth.” He swung the cloak around his shoulders and fastened it from the neck to midway down his chest, then raised the hood.

The wind picked up before they reached the floor of the ravine, buffeting them from all sides. The minor dragons took refuge within Kale’s cape. But once the travelers entered the narrow chasm between steep rock walls, the gusts only came from behind and hurried Kale and Sir Kemry on their way.

The rift opened out on a flat mountain valley. They stayed close to the cliffs at the edge, avoiding most of the wind. The clouds obstructed the sun, and thunder rumbled. The lightning illuminated the clouds from behind, but so far had not touched the earth with its powerful, pointed fingers. When the rain began, the torrent fell as if a giant hand had tipped a bucket over their heads.

Sir Kemry’s encouragement entered Kale’s mind. “Keep the rock wall to your right shoulder, and we will run into the town. Can’t miss it. We’ll be all right.”

Kale blocked the thought that would have proclaimed her unafraid and capable of finding shelter. But the tone of her father’s voice penetrated her prickly pride. He cared for her comfort. Bardon often smothered her a bit with concern. This demonstration of affection should soothe her, not irritate.

She addressed Wulder but kept her thoughts from the man who led the way. I suppose if I accepted the fact that my father loves me, I would be less defensive. Right? If I took his care as a blessing, instead of a hindrance, I could tolerate his coddling. The man is clumsy in his efforts to be a father to me, but I suppose I am just as clumsy at being a daughter. This isn’t an easy relationship You’ve given me, Wulder. He’s been gone most of my life, and all my training has been at someone else’s hands. But I suppose I will learn a lot during this quest and be better for it. Sometimes it appears to me that reading a tome and taking a written test would be a lot less painful way to learn life lessons.

She trudged on for a few minutes, struggling with a principle that she couldn’t quite recall. A clap of thunder shook the ground under her feet just as she remembered the wording. “A word read, a word spoken, a word acted upon, finally learned.”

“What did you say?” shouted her father.

“How much farther do you think it is?”

“I’ve just seen the light in the window of the first house. Shall we go on to the tavern or try to find shelter in a private home?”

“The tavern.”

“My choice as well.”

The uneven ground next to the cliff gave way to the smoothed stone of a street. Houses could be seen only by the square lights of their windows and looming shadows. Small homes gave way to bigger residences. Shortly thereafter, the buildings squared off and looked more like businesses, closed now, after dark and during the squall.

Kale used her talent to survey the street ahead of them. No one roamed the market square. No one lurked in the shadows. One building, far ahead, held people, noisy and full of fun. This would be the local tavern. She started to point it out to her father but realized he already knew where to go. She moved closer to his back, allowing his tall form to block the wind-blown rain. Her cape kept her warm and dry, but the force of the storm made her tired.

They heard the music and laughter when they stepped up on a covered boardwalk. The last building on the block lit the street in front of it with a golden glow from huge windows.

“It looks welcoming,” said Sir Kemry. “I hope the crowd is not too rough.”

“I spent my youth in a tavern, Father.”

“A remarkably inappropriate place to raise a child.”

“I didn’t have much choice.”

Sir Kemry stopped abruptly, so that Kale almost ran into him. “I regret that I was not there for you, my child. But there are times when parents must make the best decision they can and then rely on Wulder to do the rest. You cannot say that He abandoned you as well.”

“No sir.” She paused, looked down at her feet, and then back at her father. “I’ve come to believe you and Mother did not abandon me either. At first I knew it by what you told me. But now I know it in my heart, not by facts.”

He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake. His face looked tight in the glow of a lamp mounted beside a merchant’s door. He pulled her to his chest and embraced her. The hug nearly squeezed all the air out of her lungs.

Releasing her, he turned toward the tavern. “Let’s find out if this innkeeper has a fire that is warm and a bowl of stew that is tasty.”

He strode with confidence through the massive door. Kale followed with her heart filled with joy. A woman bustled forward.

“You’ve arrived late and been soaked for your trouble.” She raised her voice to be heard over the small band playing. “Hang your wet things on that wall where there’s pegs aplenty. You can put your boots by the fire to dry as long as you take away what you leave there and no one else’s. I’ll bring you hot cider and a bowl of Botzy’s Best Beef Stew and bread hot from the oven. I be Botzy.”

Kale’s father bowed. “Thank you, Botzy. We would like a room for the night.”

The old marione scowled and squinted at Kale. “She looks young to be your wife. I have two rooms I’ll be giving ye.”

“She’s my daughter. And I’d prefer one room so I know she is safe.”

“This is a respectable establishment, and the locks are strong. You’ll have two rooms or none at all.”

“Very well, and what is the price of these rooms?”

“Twelve ordends for each room.”

“That’s highway robbery.”

The marione matron’s brown eyes twinkled. “There isn’t a highway anywhere near the town of Black Jetty.”

“This is Black Jetty?”

She nodded.

“Jetty is a peculiar name for a town not anywhere near water.”

“They say that an eon ago there was a lake in this valley, but one of the volcanoes erupted, the ground shifted, and the lake disappeared.”

Sir Kemry merely pursed his lips and looked at the woman.

She laughed. “You’ll be taking the rooms, then. The meal and fine music go along with the lodging.”

“A bargain, indeed,” said Sir Kemry and peeled off his wet cloak to hang on a peg.

Kale did the same and then followed him to the fire, where they lined their boots up with a dozen other pairs. In thick socks, they wove their way between many filled tables to an empty one across the room from the door, too far away from the fire, but not far enough away from the loud music. If constant mindspeaking didn’t zap her energy, she would have foregone using her vocal cords.

“Brrr!” Kale shivered. “I may go back and get my cape. It’ll be dry in a trice and keep me warm.” She started to get up, but a splash of color on one of the walls caught her attention. “Look!”

Sir Kemry glanced at the mural. “As art, it doesn’t seem to be well executed.”

“I’ve seen murals like this in taverns twice before.”

He shrugged.

“I’ve been sent on two quests. This will be the third. Before the first two really got started, I saw paintings on the wall that looked like the same artist did them.” She pointed again to the other side of the room. “During the quest, something would happen that mirrored the artist’s image.”

Kale got out of her seat and went to examine the picture. Too much of it was in shadows, so she took a lantern down from where it hung on a post and moved closer.

The musicians played an old ballad of tragedy and lost love. The baritone had a good voice, and shivers ran up Kale’s back as he sang of the wind carrying away the dreams of two lovers. The haunting melody made her think of Bardon, and she purposely turned her attention to the wall and the mural.

Come see, she called to her father and summoned him with a gesture.

When he was beside her, she pointed to two figures sitting on a log. “That’s you and me.”

“What do you mean? That’s a male and female o’rant, but why do you say it’s us?”

“It is. I’m sure. The other murals I saw reflected an exact scene in a quest that came to pass. There’s a gentleman, maybe Paladin. Over here, next to the fire, are two meech dragons and a doneel.”

“Why Paladin?”

“He’s well dressed and has that air about him.”

“Even in this crude drawing?”

“Yes!”

Sir Kemry leaned forward and peered at the figure in question, then straightened. “Paladin is too sick to be traipsing about the countryside.”

Kale put her hand on her father’s sleeve. “He is now, but he could get better.”

Sir Kemry frowned down at her and then looked back at the picture. “Why meech dragons?”

“Their height.”

“Could be urohms.”

“Too short compared to the gentleman.”

“Short urohms or a tall gentleman.”

“No, Father.” She pointed to a patch of colors she had first thought was a blooming bush. “Look. Minor dragons. Lots of colorful dragons.”

He squinted at the wall. “Those flowers?”

“No, I think they’re dragons. The murals before have been indistinct too.”

“Humph! Sounds like coincidence to me.”

“You’ll see.”

“Well, just what is in this drawing that might ‘come to pass’?”

“Let’s see. A camp in a forest. You, me, Paladin, probably Gilda and Regidor, the little dragons and…”

“And?”

“Does that look like a grave to you?” She pointed to a shadowy spot beneath a bentleaf tree.

“Yes, it does.”

Kale swallowed the lump in her throat. Who was not in the mural? Bardon, her mother, Leetu Bends, so many others. It could be any one of them, or the grave might hold a stranger. She glanced over at the figures she thought she could identify. The forms were indistinct, ambiguous, hazy. “Well, Father, it’s probably a coincidence like you said.”

Sir Kemry nodded. “Most probably a coincidence.”