Dragon Talker (31 page)

“Of course you will. Sit with me. We will ponder.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the piece of wood he found in the village, still wrapped in the shirt. The knocked-down trees meant there was plenty of light where he was sitting. “Let’s see if I can make any sense of this.”

He unwrapped the shirt as Chicken sat next to him, lying at his side with his head down on the ground. Winderall scratched his head absently with his right hand as he held the piece of wood with his left. He didn’t see anything new. A crude dragon was still scratched on the top of the board with hundreds of scratches under it. He turned it 90 degrees. The dragon was now climbing up the right side, with the scratches to its left.

“That’s not it.” He kept turning it 90 degrees at a time. “No, I think the dragon is supposed to be on top.” He showed it to Chicken, “What do you think?”

Chicken looked up, but only blinked at Winderall.

“Yes, it is a mystery. What are these slashes? How many times the carver saw the dragon? That’s a lot of dragon sightings.  There aren’t that many dragons in the land. There isn’t a tenth of that many dragons in the land, possibly the world. If there were…” he shuddered at the thought. “…this would be a different world. You and I would be an afternoon snack in a burning world.”

Winderall asked himself why people carve things in the first place: toys for children, talismans for all kinds of reasons, to commemorate events. What event could this commemorate? He tried to think of all the wooden objects he had seen in his life before he realized he wasn’t holding a figure; he was holding a sign.

Signs were simpler. Signs identified places, as in eat or sleep here. They directed people: this way to Perantium, and they warned people: this place is dangerous. He really didn’t think the first two applied. Realizing that, a chill ran through him. He held the board with both hands, asking, “What kind of warning are you?” He had another thought, “And which dragon are you?”

Chapter 45

Agardia had a tear in her eye as Hental left the hut, the small pack with the food for the day hung over his left shoulder. Outside, his father was chopping wood, but Tadeus stopped long enough to wink at Hental. Hental smiled and waved as he headed out to Selma’s hut. Today, Selma was sending him out with the goats alone.

Normally, Hental didn’t pay much attention to the other villagers. Today, he walked, slowly, to Selma’s hut, with his back straight and head held high. He smiled at his fellow villagers, which made almost all of them nervous. Hental didn’t notice; he just kept on smiling.

At Selma’s, he lasted through half a cup of tea with Selma before setting the cup down and saying, “Time to get the goats to the mountain.”

Selma felt tired, but his enthusiasm made her smile. Usually, Hental took his time with the tea. She suspected he liked it better cool. Today wasn’t a normal day for Hental, though, and Selma understood it. “Okay, Hental. I guess it’s time for you to take your goats out.”

Hental’s eyes grew larger as he realized she said “your” goats. His heart, beating fast all morning, beat even faster. The excitement started to turn to nervousness. Selma noticed, saying, “Who do you listen to, Hental?”

“Nobody but you and the goats,” he answered, remembering the answer Selma taught him whenever he came to the hut with a new idea about how to herd the goats, whether it was something he came up with or heard someone else in the village talking about herding. It was a popular topic of conversation, and everyone had their own ideas about the best way to do it. Selma wasn’t interested in their opinions or ideas.

Selma hadn’t fully recovered from being sick, and she stifled a cough before saying, “That’s right, and on your first day out, all you need to do it listen to them and you will be fine.”

“Hey,” Hental suddenly realized Selma would be in the village all day while he was out. He knew what he did when he stayed in the village, but he wondered what Selma would do. “What are you going to do today?”

“Maybe I’ll go find myself a boyfriend?” she winked at Hental.

Hental laughed. “You don’t like anybody.”

“I don’t like most people. There’re a couple men in the village who aren’t complete fools. I might find one of them.” Selma was amused by Hental’s sudden interest in her personal life. “But you have important things to be thinking of.”

“I know, the goats.” Hental shook his head, which he did whenever he thought she was telling him something he already knew.

“Of course, the goats, but I’m talking about your apprentice.”

“Huh?” Hental was confused.

“What, you think you’re going to be out there on your own every day?”

Hental hadn’t thought about a mentee. “Yeah,” uncertainty entered his voice, “Can’t I?”

“You can,” Selma replied, “but you don’t want to. You never want to be alone on a mountain, Hental. Mountains eat up people who wander by themselves for too long. Plus, if you don’t teach an apprentice, what happens to my goats if something happens to you?”

“I hadn’t thought about that. Great, I’m failing already.”

Selma laughed, which turned into a cough. After the coughs subsided, she said, “Hental, you’re not failing. You’re still learning, and never stop learning. There is always another thing to learn, about your goats, the mountain, weather, your apprentice, your goats’ milk and meat, and the village.”

“I don’t know if I can do all that.” Hental was getting overwhelmed.

“Not all at once, Hental, not all at once. There’s so much because a lifetime is a long time for most, and you need to fill it with something. Always choose learning, Hental, and you will add to the years you get to live on this land.”

Hental digested that one for a while, finally saying, “Is that why you’re so old?”

“Most assuredly. I’ve walked back from the mountains at first snow of a sudden snowstorm that killed other herders, and their sheep. I sure haven’t gotten involved with some of the craziness that grabs this village once in a while.” Selma’s voice a little deeper and louder, which is when Hental knew she was trying to tell him something she thought was really important, “Never join the crowd, Hental. You lead a crowd or you avoid it; otherwise, you are giving up control of your life to people who, no matter what they say, are putting themselves before you.”

Selma stopped talking and stared at Hental. This, Hental knew, was the sign he was to repeat what she said, showing he had listened. He said, “I know. I got it, join the crowd, avoid being a leader.”

Selma’s eyes narrowed, causing Hental to smile, giving him away. “I know, I know. Lead or get away from a crowd. Study and keep to my own business…I have one for you.”

Selma raised an eyebrow, Hental hadn’t made a suggestion to her in anything that wasn’t goat related. She said, “I’m listening.”

“Keep learning new jokes, because laughing keeps you young.”

Selma thought about the easy laughter of children. Then she thought about all the people she knew who laughed less and less as they grew older. “You know, I think you are onto something. Laughers do live longer, I think. But how do you explain my long life? Nobody is going to say ol’ Selma is a jester.”

“That’s easy. You have the goats.” Hental was proud of himself, feeling like he was holding his own in an adult conversation.

“That’s why I like you, Hental, you are smart. Now, back to your apprentice. Who do you think would make a good herder, with the right training?”

Hental rubbed his nose, something he had seen his father do when he was thinking. “I don’t know. I don’t think my friends are ready. I wouldn’t trust them with my goats. There’re a few older boys, but I don’t think they would listen to me. They’d want to take over the goats and make me the apprentice.”

“You’re right about that. In some ways, I’m not doing you a favor giving you the trip so young, but I know you, Hental, and I know you can handle it.”

Hental didn’t exactly beam with pride, but it did show. Selma continued, “besides, if you’re going to let other people run your life…”

“You might as well live in a city.” Hental didn’t really know what that meant, but he’d heard Selma say it enough that he could repeat it. Apparently, in cities people where always doing things for other people, which didn’t sound too different from being a child in a village, but he trusted Selma and decided he didn’t like cities, either.

“You are a smart boy. If there are no apparent apprentices, what do you do?”

Hental thought about it. “Wait and watch.”

“That’s right, unless…” she didn’t have to wait long for Hental to finish.

“There’s lightning!” Hental felt like the smartest man in the village.

“Good boy. Never force a job on a person who doesn’t want it or can’t do it. That’s only misery, but when there’s danger, you act with the best you got at the time.” Usually, Selma tried to teach Hental what she’d learned in life in little bits, small conversations when they were out with the goats. Now, with Hental getting ready to take over the job completely, she felt a need to review the most important lessons she’d learned over her life.

Selma coughed again. Hental asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m old and dying, Hental, but yes, I’m okay. Just hanging on to that cough for something to do.”

“Well,” Hental thought about it, “I want you to stay around for a while. See me do a good job with the goats.”

“I know you will, Hental, and when I am gone, and you’re up on the mountain, I’ll be watching out for you, and my goats.” Selma couldn’t help but tease Hental a little, “So, that means no more nicknames with ‘butt’ in them. You have to respect the goats, Hental. They will keep you alive, no matter what the season.”

“I know.” Hental liked hearing Selma’s ideas, but only a few. He had his own ideas that he could only try out when he was up in the mountains, with the goats. “Time for the walk.”

“Time for the walk,” Selma agreed.

The walk, which Selma had specific ideas about, was taking the goats through the village on the way to the path to the mountains to the west.
As much as Selma said she didn’t like the villagers
, Hental thought,
she seemed to care a great deal about how they saw her and her goats
. If a goat was sick, or even recovering from an illness, it stayed back in the pens by the hut. They were trained to stick close together in the village, too. If a goat was acting up as she rounded them up, she made sure to keep that goat close to her to keep an eye on it. She was quick to prod it with her staff to keep it in line.

Selma walked out with Hental to the pens in back and said, “I have something for you.”

Hental looked around, but he didn’t see anything new that could be for him. Selma handed him her staff, the little bell tied to the top jingled as she held it out to Hental. The staff was a good two feet taller than Hental. Once he had his hand on it, Selma let go. Hental stared at the staff. He thought, this is the best staff in the world. It was also a clear sign for everyone to see that Selma supported Hental. Even the goats would respond to the bell they had heard all their lives.

Hental didn’t know what to say. He felt full, of pride, of responsibility, of love, and of fear. All these emotions where tumbling around in his chest and stomach. Selma smiled, “Time for the walk, my boy.”

Hental didn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded and headed to the main pen’s gate. He both counted and looked over the goats as they came out. Primrose and Willow had recovered enough to make the walk, but Oak still looked a little shaky. He decided Oak would stay back, and since he seemed to get along best with Willow, he kept her back so Oak would have company. He was secretly glad that Oak, the goat he called Dragon Butt, was not going to be in the mix for his fist walk. If there was a goat that would try to cause a ruckus, he thought it would be him.

Selma nodded approvingly. She also wanted his first walk to go smoothly. She wasn’t alone. Unknown to Hental, most of the village was aware that today was the day. Selma told Lindale earlier in the morning, and he was spreading the word, alone with a few cautions to Halagrin and Thomas, two boys who had a history of starting trouble. It didn’t hurt that he confiscated the boys’ slings for the day, and their spare leather, promising to return them, assuming nothing unexpected happened this morning.

Lindale didn’t know about Piotr, though. He was a boy who couldn’t seem to stop harassing Hental whenever he got the chance, which was more often now that Yuri was gone. Agardia knew, and there was no way she was going to let this bully ruin her son’s first walk through the village. She and Tadeus had a plan that had both a carrot and a stick. They were prepared to use both if they had to. As Hental was rounding up the goats, Agardia was talking to Piotr’s mother and Tadeus was walking the path Hental would be taking, looking for Piotr and anything out of the ordinary.

Unaware of his parents’ efforts on his behalf, Hental rounded up the goats amid sounds of his bell, their baas, and the clicking and clacking of the small dried pieces of wood each goat wore on a cord on its neck. He asked Selma, “Are you coming with?”

“No, Hental, this is your work.” Hental frowned as she coughed again but smiled when she added, “I’m proud of you, my boy.”

“I won’t let you down.” With that, Hental stamped the staff on the ground, jingling the bell, and started herding the goats through the village.

Chapter 46

Melanie reached her hand into her pocket occasionally to touch the jagged piece of silver. With all she had seen and experienced, she was surprised that she could still doubt what a mage could do, but she did. It felt good to feel the silver. A jaded part of her mind, though, wondered if she just wasn’t feeling an acorn that had been charmed to look and feel like silver. Still, there were a lot more reasons to believe it was real than that it wasn’t.

The three of them, Melanie, Xeron, and Tail Biter, had been walking the barely cart-width path through the dense woods for nearly two hours. She thought about the life in Perantium that awaited her if she returned and the worrying her mother must be doing at her absence. She made up her mind, saying to Xeron in front of her, “I’ll do it, as long as I can get my mother to agree.”