Read Online DragonLight by Donita K. Paul - Free Book Online Page B

Bardon’s father, Sir Joffa, blustered in his usual way and clapped both Bardon and Kale on the shoulders. His pride for his son shone through his gruff exterior. Shimeran and Seezle, two kimens she hadn’t seen since her first quest, sat on the far side of the table on raised chairs.
    Wizard Namee had worked some spell that subdued the sound in the crowded room. She knew she spoke in a normal tone, but the words floated softly to the listener, without disturbing those at other tables. And she heard distinctly any comment made to her. But the voices of all the guests together only made a soft murmur, not unlike the sound of the sea quietly advancing on a sandy shore and then flowing back.
    A string quartet played dinner music, and each note drifted above the dining crowd without hindering individual conversations.
    Kale soaked in the sight of so many dear faces and relished each bit of news, but the aroma of seared meat and the buttery sauces held no appeal. She visited with first one person and then another, discussed ideas with several people at once, and expressed joy at hearing the good news among them. She ignored her plate.
    Bardon drew her attention by placing a hand on her arm and leaned in to whisper, “Are you all right?”
    “Of course, why do you ask?”
    He pointed to her untouched kitawahdo, a tumanhofer bean dish that she ordinarily devoured.
    “I must be too excited to eat. My stomach is bubbling, and I have a tight place, like a muscle spasm.” She placed her hand over the top of her abdomen. “Right here.”
    “Can you call for Gymn?”
    She concentrated for a moment. “Horse feathers! What has Namee done here? I’ll send Filia to find him.”
    The small dragon flew away, and Bardon put a piece of bread broken from a round loaf in her hand. “Here, eat this. You may just be hungry. You haven’t touched your food.”
    Kale laughed. “I’m too busy talking. It is so good to be here. Thank you again, Bardon, for dragging me away. I think I could go back home and be content for years on this one evening alone.”
    “Nothing doing, lady of mine, we’re off on a quest tomorrow.”
    Kale sighed, nibbled on the bread, and soon got interested in a story Sir Dar told of a castle being built by one of the mountain wizards.
    “Perhaps a relation of mine,” she whispered to her husband. “My mother comes from the mountains.”
    “Is that why she is seemingly ageless?” Bardon grinned. “As old as the hills, but beautiful in a majestic way?”
    Kale narrowed her eyes at him but couldn’t contain the twitch at the corner of her mouth that threatened to bloom into a smile. “My father is from the hills. My mother is from the mountains. A definite distinction is made among the families.”
    “Snobbery,” said Bardon.
    “Exactly,” said Kale.
    “Next, your relations will be looking down their noses at my ears.”
    She giggled. “I love your ears. A half-emerlindian is just what this stodgy old family needed.”
    “Your mother is not stodgy.”
    “And my father is?”
    “Yes, but I didn’t say it. You did.”
    Wizard Namee approached and claimed their attention. As host he walked from table to table, greeting his guests.
    “I am particularly happy to see you, Lady Kale. Regidor and I have perfected a weaving of the old gateway spell that innovates—” he broke off, cleared his throat, and continued. “But that’s a treat for tomorrow. Before you all leave, I will gather the wizards who have graced this evening’s celebration and teach you the weave. Then you can teach it to those you meet as you travel.”
    “Celebration?” asked Kale. “I’m sorry. I don’t know the occasion.”
    “Life! Life is the occasion. I envy your going on a quest, a peaceful quest, at that. I’m too old to be gallivanting around the countryside.” He smiled, patted her shoulder, the one that didn’t hold the flowers and Tieto, and wandered off to attend to his other company.
    Tieto climbed out of his