"We must discuss your duties and my obligations more in detail," said the Historian. "We must first inventory what the Mercenary Knights consumed and destroyed during their weeks in Overhall."

"I agree. Much of that, I should think, would be the work of your accountant," said Tom. "I am a Librarian. I care for, index, shelf, recover, bind and mend damaged books, and find needed information quickly."

"My definition of Librarian includes all that, plus helping preserve and, when needed, restore records. The king expects a strict accounting of my stewardship of my office, among other things. I'll introduce you to Master Plume, who is my comptroller and accountant. He'll exchange information with you, generate figures and reports for you to index and file. Check them, bind them, and store them in a safe place. You agree?"

"Of course! Again, I'll do what I am able. Sir a ?"

"Yes, Librarian?"

"When Retruance Constable found me I had just been somehow a er a transported is the word I must usea from my home world, which isa-wasa-an entirely different sort of place from this. I was confused, frightened, and the Dragon assured me that if I talked to you, you would be able to help me understand what has happened to me. What brought me to Carolna? Am I to live in fear that I will be swept off somewhere else all of a sudden without warning?" Murdan leaned back in his high-backed chair, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Yes, that's a concern. I am not a wizard myself, but I've enough experience to recognize very strong magic when I see it."

He fell into a deep study, gazing off across the room, almost as if he had forgotten the questions. At last he stirred and turned his look back upon the Librarian.

"I'll have to study this when I have time. Ask some trained people some questions, you see? Forgive me if I can't answer you right off the mark. If it's any help, I think your being brought to Carolna was no random accident. Someone decided you were needed here."

"I understand. As you're addressing my problem, I feel much better about it. I've learned, already, to admire and appreciate your land and people. Few beings have been as friendly as the Dragon Retruance, sir, and your own kindness in taking me in, on my word alonea-"

"Leave that! I said I've experience. It includes making judgments about people and beings at first sight," said Murdan gruffly. "Don't prove me wrong, young man!"

"No, sir."

"In the meantime, you have your work. I expect you to pursue it diligently. And I'll seek consultation with some knowledgeable persons about your sudden appearance. It may take some time. You're welcome here in my service and you may be sure that I'll spare no trouble and expense to protect you from any ill. Beyond that, I can't offer you any reassurances at this time."

"I understand, sir. I'll get to work at once."

"I CAN'T say that I need much help," Accountant Plume said sourly. He was a wizened little man with a permanent worried frown. "I have been doing the Historian's books for years now. I just need some time to bring them up to date."

"As I understood Murdan's instructions, I was to help in any way I can. Also, I am to bind, index, and shelve in his library the records you compile."

"I'll comply with the Historian's demands on that, of course," said Plume, although he didn't seem too pleased with the idea. "I'll inform you when I have papers to be Don Callander 50.bounda after I have completed my work and Murdan has approved of them."

"I would like to take time to sort and index Altruance's archives, also," said Tom. "There is perhaps other useful data there."

"Ask the Master on that," snapped Plume, waving his hand in curt dismissal. "What you do is a matter of indifference to me."

"A man needs to know everything there is to know about his house," said the Librarian. He'd returned to Murdan and reported the conversation.

"Plume is a sour little dried-up apple," said the Historian, nodding. "Pay his attitude no heed, young sir. Collecting and cataloging a decent library for me is important, or I would not have hired you. Concentrate on historical matters. I've been remiss in my duties as Royal Historian. We're in danger of losing much of our past through neglect. That, now, includes Altruance's papers."

Murdan was quite serious about his Historian duties, Tom found. He carried a tremendous amount of information in his head. Surprisingly little of it was committed to parchment or print.

Tom suggested the castle hire its own printer. Murdan promised to look into it when next he went to Lexor, capital of the Kingdom of Carolna. Printing was still a young art and printers were scarce.

"Some months off yet," he explained. "I left the Spring Sessions with the king and his ministers to rush back here when I learned the castle was taken. The government will get along without me for a while."

The Historian wrote his own correspondence, which was quite large, much of it official. Tom suggested a secretary or scribe, to make things more efficient, but the Historian thought less of this idea.

"I can outwrite any quill pusher in the kingdom!" he snorted. "Why settle for less than the best?"

Tom let the matter drop, but soon found that he was often conscripted from his books and scrolls to assist his new employer when Murdan fell behind on letter writing.

The sour-visaged but meticulous Plume worked with the household accounts, carefully and slowly, much to Murdan's loud impatience.

DRAGON COMPANION 51.

"When he gives me the inventory and the budgets, I want you to check *em over," he said to Tom. "How's your arithmetic?"

"Passable," said Tom, wishing he had brought a pocket calculator. "But no more than that."

"We have to prepare a bill of damages for that Mercenary Knight, whatever's his name," growled Murdan, amiably. He kept himself and his new Librarian busy as spring waned and summer began.

TOM chose to work in Altruance's huge rooms, just above his own in Middletower, scooting up the service stairway after breakfast to throw himself into organizing Murdan's library or sorting out Altruance's great mass of papers, surveys, contracts, and drawings, or putting some order to Murdan's own chaotic records.

Each morning after breakfast, Manda ascended the main staircase on her way to her own apartments. She was accompanied by her personal attendant, a bright girl named Momie. The maid went tactfully on up but the princess, perched on a chair beside the Dragon's great drawing table, chatted while Tom pretended to sort piles of documents by subject matter.

She came each morning for just a few minutes, never outstaying propriety, and was gone about her own business too soon, but never before sharing a bit of castle news or telling Tom something about herself.

"What do you do while I'm imprisoned here in this rat's nest of ancient shopping lists?" Tom wondered.

"Oh, ladylike things, mostly. Mistress Plume comes to teach me my letters after breakfast. I used to hate it, but since watching you at work I've seen how important written words can be. I appreciate them more."

"I would have thought you'd learned your alphabet when you were a toddler, bright as you are."

"Oh, thank you so much, young master!" she cried, curtseying prettily. "I did learn writing years ago. Now I learn what to write. I pen beautiful invitations, neat and polite letters of regret, bright, pleasant notes of gratitude to a farmer for his gift of a sickling piga" "You mean *suckling pig,' I think," Tom prompted. "a suckling pig, then, and how to word petitions for redress of wrongs or bills for conveyance of real property.

52.Don Callander DRAGON COMPANION 53.Today we begin bequeathals and testaments." "All that! Well, I expect it's good practice." "My father, the king, has written me I must have a fair, round hand and proper grammar. I might be queen, one day, you know. A queen must be perfect in all polite matters, he says."

She bounced up to peer out a southern window to see if it was still raining.

"I used to worry about being letter-perfect, but I' ve learned to take it all with a few grains of salt. After all, Tom, if I'm destined to be Queen of Carolna, whether I will it or not, my people must accept me as I am! They have little choice."

"I can see where that might get youa-and thema-into a lot of trouble, down the road," Tom cautioned. "I've found it's better to let fathers and employers have their ways in little things. It's easier to get your way in the important things, after."

"Oh, Tom, you're a politician!" the princess laughed, a sound like silver bells. "You needn't worry about me being queen. In all likelihood the king, my father, will sire a son before too long and I'll remain just Lady Alix Amanda until I marry. If I ever marry. I'm very particular, they tell me." "The king, your father, Mandaa-I know very little of him. Tell me something of him."

It had been a stormy night and summer rain still fell inter-mittently, stopping and starting every few minutes. Mistress Plume, who usually broke up their morning conversations when she puffed up the stairs to begin Manda's lessons, was late that morning. Manda settled in one of the old armchairs, ran her hand automatically over her long blond braida-she wouldn't let anyone call it a pigtaila-folded her hands in her lap, and began to recite.

"Eduard Trusslo, the Tenth of that August Name to be King of Carolna, was born of the morganatic wedlock of Eduard Nine and Mistress Anne Selver, daughter of a wealthy silk merchant of Brant Bay. Upon the tragic death of his only son by an earlier marriage, Eduard Nine proclaimed his morganatic son, Eduard, his legitimate heir. Upon Eduard Nine's death in battle, Eduard Ten, then a lad of fourteen, was at once proclaimed king and crowned, according to the ancient and honorable rites of the royal succession. King of Carolna."

"That sounds like it came straight out of an encyclopedia," said Tom.

"If by encyclopedia you mean the Official Proceed-ings of the Crown, it did. It's part of my education to memorize a"

"Memorize," prompted Tom.

"a memorize huge parts of the Official Record, so that if I become regnant queen, I will know exactly what I must do in all circumstances."

"What of your own mother?"

"My lady mother was named Seacorde. She was the daughter of one of Eduard Nine's knights. Mistress Plume, who was at court in those days, says Father and Mother were very much in love, but Mother died shortly after I was born, poor thing!"

"I'm sorry, Manda, dear. I didn't mean to give you pain."

"Oh, I don't feel pain so much. Confusion sometimes, Tom. I never knew my mother at all, and the king, my father, only a little better, because I was sent away to be raised by my mother's brother. Sir Peter of Gantrell."

"I thought you were the ward of Murdan, though."

"You're getting ahead of my story!" she chided. "Gantrell was accused of interference with royal will by mya-by the king, my fathera-about ten years ago. He was forced into exile."

"Was he?"

"Was who, what?"

"Was your Uncle Peter guilty?"

"Oh, yes. He wasa-is still, I supposea-a very cold, impatient, ambitious man, my poor mother's older brother. He thought he would make a better king than my father, and said so, too many times."

"But he wasa-what? Good to you?"

"I suppose. I seldom saw him, either. With Uncle Peter in exile, actual responsibility went to my other uncle. Mother's younger brother. Granger of Momingside. Granger has two sons just my age. Peter, who is unwed and childless, hoped to marry me to one of Granger's sons, to get the Gantrell family firmly seated on the throne, you see."

"All very, very complicateda-like a Russian novel. Nev-er mind that! I'm trying to find out," said Tom, a bit 54 Don Callander exasperated, "how you. fared in all this convoluted mess of fathers and mothers, uncles and brothers anda Were you happy? Did they treat you well?"

"I wasa happy enough, I suppose. They all. Uncle Peter and Uncle Granger and Aunt Phyllis, treated me well. After all, I was their path to power. They, or Peter rather, had been pried away from the crown when my mother died so young. If anything happens to mea-no power and no crown through marriage!"

Tom put down the stack of papers he was sorting and regarded the beautiful young lady with amusement and compassion.

"Yet you seem to have adjusted well to it, this strange life. Were you loved?" he asked.

"I am greatly beloved, by many wonderful people. My a the king, my fathera came to see me at Momingside as often as he could. These are unsettled times, but he came and he sent wonderful presents. When I wrote to him my very first letter, he wrote back at once. He still writes. Or would, if he knew where I was. His letters are always filled with love."

She considered her next words very carefully.

"Father is a most considerate, sympathetic man, interested in such things as how peasants' wives bake bread and what makes some flowers blue and others red. Interested, too, in what a young daughter thinks and does and likes to talk about. Most men consider him a very good king, just and wise. 1 love him very much, both because he is my father and because he is a most kind and gentle ruler."

"Things could have been a lot worse, I guess," observed the Librarian.

"Much worse!" she agreed.

"What do you see in your future, Manda?"

"Lots and lots of things, all mixed up, usually," the girl said with a small, sad laugh. "As for my father, I hope to get to know him better and see him more often for longer timesa-to live near him would be wonderful. I think I could help him be happier. He's often quite sad."

"He's remarried, though?"

"Yes, and he was so good as to ask my permission! Given the choice, I told him, I would not care to be Queen Alix Amanda Two. I know it's selfish of me but I don't think I'd DRAGON COMPANION 55.

make a very good queen, I said. If he should remarry and if his beautiful new wife were to bear him a son, I would never allow anyone to use me to stand in the little prince's way to the throne."

She looked very solemn and Tom reached out to touch her hand gently, reassuringly.

"So he has remarried, with my truly heartfelt blessing. I've heard his new queena-her name is Beatrixa-is very beautiful and charming. I hope to meet her next Fall, when the court returns to Lexor for Session. Murdan has promised to take me with him, if the king, my father, sends his permission."

"One more thing," asked Tom as Mistress Plume's gray topknot appeared above the stair landing. She climbed slow-ly because of arthritic knees. "How can your father not know where you are? How came you here to Overhall?"

"I ran away from Uncle Granger! Momie and I slipped away from his travel party when it passed close to Overhall on a roundabout way to Lexor. I threw myself on Uncle Murdan's mercy. Murdan is my father's favorite half brother, always has been, and could have great power, if he chose. I love him dearly. Always have!"

"Child," said Mistress Plume, sounding a bit testy, "I didn't climb four flights of stairs to listen to your gossip. We must speak of dusty wills and dry bequeathals now or we will never do it."

"I'm coming, mistress," said Manda, politely. She seemed fond of Plume's wife, who was probably irritable because of her sour husband, Tom thought.

Tom wasn't overly fond of the dry little accountant, either. Mistress Plume, at least, whether through unsuspected kindness or arthritis, allowed them these few minutes alone together each morning.

They had to thank her for that, at least.

TOM worked very hard and the time flew. Just when he began to hear anguished rumblings from the region of his stomach, the great flight door was flung open to the rain and wind and Retruance Constable flopped ungracefully through the opening. He shook raindrops from his wings before folding them loosely at his sides. "How goes the book work?" he asked.

56.Don Callander "Lovely! I have adapted the Dewey decimal system for cross filing by subject, title, and author, and it's making things go much faster. What have you been at?"

"Oh, well," sighed the Dragon. "I'm concerned about my brother Purbetrance. He's not yet appeared."

"I recall Murdan called him to come at the same time as he called you from your search for your father. Where was he, do you know?"

"Somewhere far to the south and west, I think. I was sure he would come to Overhall by now. I'm going to ask Murdan to let me go looking for him. He's my younger brother, you know, and I feel responsible."

Tom waved at the piles of books and manuscripts on the huge table.

"Murdan isn't likely to let me go adventuring with you, but I'll ask him."

"A Dragon needs a good, smart Companion," agreed Retruance. "It won't hurt to ask!"

"I'm starving!" Tom cried. "Let's go surround some lunch, first."

"Right!" Retruance Constable agreed with enthusiasm. Tom paused to pull a heavy velvet cloth over the piles of documents on the table, to keep them from blowing away, then settled himself on the Dragon's rain-slick head, grasping Retruance's ears firmly.

Retruance hurled himself out the great door and plummeted toward the rocks below, snapping his great wings out, deflecting upward and inward at the last moment, enjoying the rush of rain-filled air. He banked sharply, dropped twenty feet, and landed gently outside Great Hall.

Soldiers, household staff, and the master himself were about to sit down to a light lunch of fresh white loaves, newly churned butter, crisp green salad, and savory broiled pink prawns.

Manda had come down earlier to help Housekeeper Grumble, a vast mountain of a woman with a girlish giggle, inspect the laundry, the kitchen, the scullery, the butchery, the bakery, the kitchen garden, and flower gardens, and the weaving sheds, all places and things she needed to know well if she were ever to be a successful castle keeper.

Now Manda sat demurely to her uncle's right and greeted Tom with a worried frown.

DRAGON COMPANION 57.

Tom took his place on the Historian's left and wished a good afternoon to all at the head table. Murdan signaled his servants to begin.