So Eleal Singer had escaped from Narsh, if not yet from Narshvale. As far as she could remember, the western end was closed. Rilepass led north to Sussland and Fandorpass east to Lappinland. There were other passes to the south that she did not know, leading to Tholand and Randorland, but she recalled none to the west. Soon she thought she could see brightness in the distance, probably morning sun sparkling on the dew-wet thatch roofs of a village. That must be where this road went, and probably where it ended.
Then a largish stream blocked the way. The trail dipped to a ford and Starlight balked, because dragons disliked water. He wheeled around, apparently with no objection from his rider. Lightning made gasping sounds of approval, and slowed. The three dragons came together, uttering joyous roars, nuzzling each other in greeting.
Gim's jaw dropped when he saw the old woman crumpled in the saddle. He leaped down, shouting “Wosok, Starlight! Wosok!"
Eleal made Lightning crouch before she dared dismount, and then she went to help Gim. The old woman seemed unconscious, but her twisted hands still held a fierce grip on her staff and the pommel plate. Carefully avoiding the sharp-looking sword, the youngsters dragged her from the saddle and lowered her to the grass like a heap of washing.
She blinked up at them, her eyes watering. When she spoke, though, her creaky voice sounded amazingly calm. “The Maiden be with you, child. Introduce your friend."
"Gim Wrangler, Sister."
"He is not mentioned,” Sister Ahn proclaimed, as if dismissing Gim from consideration. She struggled up to a sitting position and began tucking white strands of hair back under her wimple.
"He rescued me from the temple."
"The god rescued her!” Gim said.
Sister Ahn nodded. “Praise to the Youth. But the Maiden is worthy of thanks also. I did not injure the dragon with my sword, did I?"
Gim bent and inspected Starlight's flank. Starlight turned round and puffed grass-scented steam at him.
"A couple of faint scratches on his scales. Nothing serious."
"How did you make him leave the herd?” Eleal demanded.
"I gave him some nice hay and told him how beautiful he was. It is always best to pay in advance, whenever possible."
"The dragon trader didn't know, did he?” Eleal said.
Sister Ahn frowned at her, and then suddenly smiled. Probably her smile was well intentioned, but it seemed just as gruesome as it had two days ago, involving much crunching of wrinkles and a display of lonely yellow teeth. “Sometimes action must come before explanation,” she explained wryly. “I always wanted to try a ride on a dragon!"
She took a firm grip on her staff and held out an arm. Gim helped her rise, studying her with rank disbelief.
"You've never done it before?"
"I implied that, did I not? Had I not overheard you, young man, I would not have known the correct command. Now, what place is that?” Apparently her watery eyes were not as useless as they seemed.
"Morby, sister. Just a little place."
"Never heard of it.” Her tone implied that it was therefore of no consequence.
"It has a wonderful bakery,” Gim said wistfully.
The fourth dragon arrived in a scramble of claws, being greeted by belches from the others. T'lin Dragontrader seemed to hit the ground running before it had even stopped. His face was flushed with fury and he towered over the nun.
Sister Ahn attempted to straighten, but the move merely emphasized her hump. Her long nose was about level with the middle of his chest.
"You stole my dragon!” His fists were clenched.
"Borrowed it, merely. Time was short and you would have argued."
"By the moons, I would have argued! And now I suppose you expect to accompany us to Sussland?"
He was speaking much louder than usual. The dragons were all watching curiously. Eleal caught Gim's eye. He did not seem to know whether to be amused or concerned. Neither did she.
"Accompany you? I don't know anything about you,” the old woman proclaimed. “You are not mentioned. It is written, Before the festival, Eleal will come into Sussvale with the Daughter of Irepit. This is Thighday. The festival begins tonight, does it not? You don't expect to negate holy prophecy when the goddess Ois failed, do you?"
T'lin shook his fists futilely and then grabbed his beard with both hands as if to keep them from doing violence to the maddening old woman. Starlight was Dragontrader's personal mount. They had been together as long as Eleal could remember. She had never seen rage portrayed so clearly, not even when Trong Impresario played Kaputeez in The Vengeance of Hiloma.
"Is that so? Really so? As I understand your discipline, sisters of the sword always offer value in return for service."
Sister Ahn nodded complacently. “Always."
"Today the price for passage to Sussland is one million stars, payable in advance!” T'lin pushed his bristling red beard almost into her face. “Well?"
She raised hairless brows. “Or something greater?"
"Greater? Name it!"
"Your life, my son. Without me you would presently be chained in the city cells."
T'lin made a choking noise.
"Why do you think the guard did not come after you?” she asked pityingly. “Do you believe they are all so stupid, or that the priests of Our Lady are?"
T'lin wavered. “What did you do?"
"I told them I had seen a black dragon with two people aboard climbing over the wall and heading in the direction of Nimpass. A mounted patrol left immediately and all the rest went back to—"
"You lied?"
"Certainly not!” Again Sister Ahn tried to look down her long nose at him, but he was still much too tall. “I was vouchsafed a vision of this, in a dream. It was very clear."
T'lin Dragontrader moaned and covered his face with his hands. Eleal bit her lip to restrain a snigger. There was silence, until Gim said hesitantly, “It was odd that the guard did not come after us, sir."
"Not odd at all!” the nun sniffed. “I gave them my oath that I had seen what I said. Sisters of my order are impeccable witnesses. Courts have accepted the sworn word of a Daughter over the testimony of phalanxes of magistrates. You owe me your life, Dragontrader. Or if not, at the very least they would have impounded all your worldly goods. I have paid fairly."
36
CREIGHTON SEEMED TO HAVE AN INFINITE CAPACITY TO astonish. First he had produced ancient woodland gods out of pagan legend, and now Gypsies. Gypsies were thieves, poachers, charlatan fortune-tellers, and altogether not the sort of people whose company any self-respecting gentleman would cultivate. Nor was this encounter a sudden impulse, for he had obviously been recognized. A man was approaching. There was no smile of welcome on his face, but he was not scowling either.
"Get your bag,” Creighton said, “and then wait here.” He jumped down.
Edward followed and retrieved his suitcase. Without a word, the Gypsy took charge of the dogcart and pony. He was nattily dressed, although his clothes had more elaborate pleats and stitching than those of any ordinary Englishman. His waistcoat was too fancy, his hat brim too wide, and he had a colorful kerchief around his neck. He returned Edward's smile with a sullen glance and led the pony away. Only now did Edward register that the dogcart was an outlandishly gaudy affair of shiny brass fittings and bright-hued paints. So were three or four of the wagons, in varying degrees. Others were plainer, scruffy by comparison.