After dinner, the guests mingled for a while. Bardon spotted Mistress Seeno cornered on the ledge over the hearth by the inquisitive mapmaker. Jue Seeno sent him a beseeching look that begged for rescue. Bardon approached them.

"Bromptotterpindosset," he said as he raised the water goblet to his lips and sipped. "I know Sir Dar's interested in the maps you acquired on the Herebic continent."

"He is?" He turned to find his host in the room, locating him conversing with Granny Kye. "I'll just visit with him now, since our time tomorrow will be short." He bustled off.

"Thank you," said Jue Seeno.

"It was my pleasure."

"The man loves to hear himself talk. He lectured me on prejudice, and in truth, I agree with the man. But I felt like he wanted me to realize how much knowledge he had of all the persuasions of the many cultures he has visited. I didn't really appreciate his topic when it was merely a showcase for his theories." The minneken sighed and sat in her chair, making herself comfortable and picking up her needlework. "My opinion on the subject is based on Wulder's teaching."

"The subject was prejudice? He mentioned that at the table. It must be on his mind."

"He'd taken a more narrow subject, actually."

"He had?"

"Yes, and I couldn't get a word in edgewise to set the man straight."

"And the narrowed subject was...?"

"Your ears."

Bardon felt his eyebrows shoot up.

"Your ears reveal your mixed heritage." Mistress Seeno wove several strands of bright thread together. "Some people scoff at halflings, but why?"

Good question. Why? Bardon reached for a candy mint in a bowl beside the minneken's chair and placed it in his mouth instead of answering. Bardon reached for a candy mint in a bowl beside the minneken's chair and placed it in his mouth instead of answering.

"Because misinformed people equate the creation of a mixed race with Pretender's creation of the seven low races."

Bardon nearly choked. He sipped from his water glass as Jue Seeno went on without even a glance at her uncomfortable audience of one.

"Wulder does not forbid intermarrying among the seven high races. Of course, some mixes would not work for obvious reasons. Urohms and kimens, for instance."

With difficulty, Bardon swallowed and carefully placed the glass on the hearth ledge.

"The point is that men, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to make a law that Wulder did not deem worthy of putting in the Tomes. So you have prejudice, founded on misconception and pride."

Mistress Seeno carefully tied off her thread at the end of the row. When she had examined the work and turned it over to bind the edge, she said, "I don't believe Wulder looks down on the seven low races."

"You don't?"

"I don't see it written in the Tomes."

"But the Tomes were written before the emergence of the seven low races. How could there be revelation of how they would stand in Wulder's eyes?"

"Wulder is Creator of all."

"Not the seven low races!"

The minneken lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

Bardon lowered his voice. "Pretender created the seven low races. They are a travesty of natural beings."

"I believe that Wulder allowed the creation of these unnatural beings."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Either He is Wulder and in control, or He is not. I believe He is. Since He is Wulder, and the low races were created with His knowledge, then they will ultimately serve His purpose. Nothing Pretender does is done without the overseeing of the Creator. In the end, Wulder will use what Pretender has created for evil to do something good for all."

Bardon paused. He searched for something to say. "I think you have a greater faith than I do."

Jue Seeno stifled a sudden laugh in her throat. "I am just older, my boy, just older. Give your faith time to grow, be strengthened by adversity, refined by trial and error."

[image]

Later, in his chamber, he had trouble sleeping. N'Rae's ability to attract males, without a proper education as to what to do with them once she had them hovering around her, bothered him a great deal. Jue Seeno's theories about Wulder's involvement with the future of the low races puzzled him. When he finally did doze off, he slept fitfully.

The corner of his bed sank under a weight. Immediately awake, he lay still.

"It is I, Paladin. You need not fear. Sit up, Bardon. We must talk."

His candle sizzled, and a flame sprang from the darkened wick.

Bardon pushed back the covers and sat up. Paladin sat on his bed, leaning against the tall footboard. In the flickering light, he looked weary.

"You have traveled far, my lord."

"Yes, these are disturbing times."

"You know about the quiss?"

"Yes." He waved his hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. "It is monsters harder to fight than the quiss that trouble me."

"May I be of service, my lord?"

A sad smile crossed the noble features of the leader of Amara. "Yes, you may be successful on this quest of yours. That would be a great service. I could use a dozen or so more knights who understand the code of valor."

"Do you not have an army of warriors who understand?"

"They have been taught ineffectively-a convoluted version of the code. Among them, there are a few who have grasped the truth. But our forces are weakening. 'Variance from the code' is the monster that worries me most."

"I shall do my best to bring the knights back, my lord."

"I know you will, Bardon." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a coin. He handed it to the squire. "I brought you something to help."

Bardon examined the small, round disk. "Kale has one similar to this."

"Yes. Yours will help you to discern the hearts of those you encounter. If it is warm against your palm, you can trust the person. Even if their best is not good enough, their hearts are true to your cause. If the coin is cold, shun the person. His way is not your way."

He rose to leave.

"Paladin?"

"Yes?"

"Is that all? Are there no other instructions? If this quest is so important, could you not come with us?"

"You have all that you need to be successful if you use your knowledge and resources wisely. The quest is important, but Wulder has put me on a different path." He shrugged, and his lips lifted in a genuine smile. "I don't choose my tasks any more than you do, Squire Bardon. But I am content to follow whatever road He lays before me. After all these years, I cannot but trust Him. Even when I misinterpret His meaning, He saves me."

As Paladin walked out of the room, the flame guttered and went out.

He looked so tired. How could one empowered by Wulder look so weary?

.30.

ADDITIONS.

Those planning to depart on the quest gathered at the dragon field as the sun peeked over the horizon.

"Oh look, how beautiful," said N'Rae as she and Bardon crested the hill. "Why are the dragons dancing?"

Soft, pink rays of the new morning glistened on jewel-like dragon scales and the dew clinging to the grass carpet beneath their feet.

"They're stretching, getting their blood moving."

"You mean like a lizard or a snake warms itself on a sun-baked rock?"

"Don't say anything like that around Greer. Dragons are not reptiles."

N'Rae giggled. She pointed to Jue Seeno's basket, which she carried on her arm, and whispered, "Just like minnekens are not mice."

"Exactly." Bardon steered N'Rae to the side of the field, where they had a better view.

Six dragons moved with surprising grace in a slow-motion ballet. Their different colors added to the dramatic effect. Two, besides Greer, were purple and blue hued. Yellow and copper scales covered one. The last two belonged to the green cast of dragons, but one had yellow accenting his wings, and the other's underscore color was a shimmering blue.

Bardon enjoyed watching the dragons stir their blood.

"Like many older people," he said, "when dragons first come out of a slumber, they are stiff. Of course, Greer has another theory. He says his body is so huge, he has to do these exercises to remember where the different parts are. He is reminding his brain where his tail is and what he can do by swishing it around. Same with his legs and wings. He says his brain never loses track of his neck or his stomach."

N'Rae laughed, then pointed across the field. "Look. There's Sir Dar."

Sir Dar stood talking to three men and two women. By their uniforms, Bardon identified them as dragon riders. The doneel shook hands with each one and then came to join N'Rae and his squire.

"I've provided you with five dragons and their riders, Captain Anton and his guard," said Dar. "They are under your command, Squire Bardon. Also, I have had several requests from individuals who wish to join your quest."

"A guard?" asked N'Rae. "What's a guard?"

"A military unit," answered Sir Dar. "A captain and four loes. A lo is higher rank than leecent and lower than lehman."

"Is a captain higher in rank or lower than a leetu?"

"Lower," said the doneel. "Why do you want to know of military rankings?"

"Bardon mentioned a Leetu Bends, that's all."

Sir Dar sent his squire a quizzical look. Bardon merely shrugged. He didn't know why his little emerlindian comrade should take such an interest in someone he spoke of once.

"Is that good, Bardon?" asked N'Rae. "To have more people to help rescue Father?"

"That depends." He looked at Sir Dar. "Who wants to join us?"

"Follow me." Dar led them to the other side of the field, skirting the dancing dragons. The five in service to Sir Dar executed their drill in synchronized motions. Greer only just managed to keep up. He usually performed his morning exercises by himself.

Watching his dragon trying to blend in caused Bardon to puzzle over the odd behavior. Why are you even bothering to join their routine? Why are you even bothering to join their routine? The squire's eyes moved to the graceful golden female between the two greens. The squire's eyes moved to the graceful golden female between the two greens. Yes, I see what you mean. She is, indeed, a beauty. Yes, I see what you mean. She is, indeed, a beauty.

Bardon put his hand on N'Rae's elbow to guide her. Her head was turned so she could admire the graceful movements of the dragons. She had no idea when Sir Dar changed directions and would have walked off the steep decline on that side of the hill if Bardon hadn't tugged on her arm.

Three people, two boys and a man, stood near the tack house. Bardon knew two, Ahnek and Trum Aspect. A surprisingly slender tumanhofer youth stood next to Ahnek. He had a walking stick in his hands and gazed over the dragon field.

Bardon stuck his hand into his pocket, curling his fingers around the coin Paladin had given him.

Sir Dar led him to the courtier Trum Aspect, who had distanced himself from the poorly clad boys, and made introductions.

The coin grew cold in Bardon's hand. He bowed politely. "I decline your generous offer, Master Aspect. We have no need of your estimable talents on this journey into the wilderness."

Aspect held his expression in check and bowed with just the right amount of deference. "Your choice, of course," he answered. He turned on his heel and strode off toward the castle.

When he had passed the end of the field, Sir Dar muttered, "I wouldn't have taken him, either. Shifty. Couldn't figure out why he wanted to go."

"I believe he thinks N'Rae is a valuable commodity."

Sir Dar tilted his head, and his ears lay back. "Emerlindians are becoming scarce, but his investments are usually more commercial."

As they walked closer to the shed and the two boys, Dar said, "Next, we have two eager young adventurers. Ahnek, you know. The other is Sittiponder from Vendela. He has traveled here for the express purpose of joining your quest."

"He must have known of it long before I did."