They followed him up a broad staircase to the upper floor of the inn and along an open balcony to the front, where he opened two doors, side by side.
"The lady will wish the parlor-room suite," Squiller decided, ushering Manda in with polite ceremony. "This door communicates between the two rooms. It can be locked from either side, you see, if you desire."
"Leave it open for now, and open all the windows, too," directed Manda. "This place smells like the barracks in Murdan's Overhall. Send your maids up at once to sweep and dust and scrub the floor. It's filthy!"
Meekly agreeing to her demands, Squiller prepared to leave.
"Light supping at any time, gents. Dinner is served at eight of the clock. Tonight's baked salmon brought down fresh from the lakes, way up north. Gourmet delicacy, that is."
"Bring some tea while the maids clean the place up," sighed Manda, with a glance at Tom and Clem. "The Dra-gon, by the way, eats as much as five men, and he'll share our table. Place it by that large window."
"P-f-five men!" gasped Squiller, seeing his profit margin swiftly dwindling to less than two hundred percent. "I had thought Dragons were vegetarians. Ate grass and things like that."
"Not this Dragon," said Furbetrance through the open window. "The closest I come to being a vegetarian is tossed salad, so see that I get plenty of it, innkeeper!"
"As you wish," sighed the resigned Squiller. "Welcome to Wall, again, madam and sirsa and Dragon! I am at your beck and call at all times."
He had a small worried frown as he turned away and Manda felt sorry for him.
"Give Master Squiller one night's tariff," she told Tom. The Librarian opened his purse and counted out thirty silver coins into the grateful host's hand.
"Now, the cleaning maids, soap and water and mops and brooms!" cried Manda, "and the pot of tea, if you please."
"Serve a round of your best ale to everyone in the bar," added Clem, who was enjoying playing the rich man for once. "And tell them I'll be down after a while to answer all their questions. And ask some, too."
Squiller bowed himself out of their chambers and dashed down the stair calling aloud for his wife, his chef, his bar-man, the maids, and his stabler.
Over hot tea minutes later, Tom asked what their next move was.
"I'll go down and talk with the boys in the taproom," said Clem. "Many of them I know. They'll have heard of any mounted party coming here. I'll butter up our host, see what he knows, too. Squiller may be sharp when it comes to vols, but he's an honest man, or he wouldn't have lasted all these years in Wall's rough company."
Said Manda, "I'll ask for a dressmaker to run up some things for me. Dressmakers go to many different houses in a town and hear all sorts of interesting things. Also, I've been wearing these mannish clothes long enough."
"I'll go have a walk about the port," Tom decided.
"There're rough, bluff people hereabouts," warned Clem. "Wall has no law, save the strength of a man's arm and the quickness of his blade."
"I don't intend to get into any brawls," scoffed Tom, "just look for the Gantrell blazon on the ships at anchor. None of them know me from Adam," he added. "I can go without creating suspicions."
FURBETRANCE, when Tom came to him in the stableyard, was asking the hands about his brother.
90.Don Callander DRAGON COMPANION 91 "Bigger'n ye!" exclaimed the head stabler. "Green and gold? If anyone has seen that, we'd have heard. Ye can't keep such a beast a secret, now can ye?"
"One would think not," said Purbetrance, "yet he's completely disappeared somewhere between here and Overhall."
He greeted the Librarian worriedly.
"I would have thought we'd have at least heard about Retruance being about. As the man says, it's next to impossible to hide a Dragon."
"Well, keep asking and looking," Tom advised, patting his huge friend on a paw. "Retruance told me Dragons are nigh impossible to kill."
"That may be right, but on the other hand. Dragons like Retruance are pure innocents when it comes to evil magicians and wicked witches. He may have been captured or enchanted ora I don't know! He may even be nearby and hiding. Which is entirely another thing from being hidden by someone else. I'll wait until moonlight and fly about a bit. If I don't see a sign of him, he may see me."
"Good idea!" exclaimed Tom, who was as worried as Purbetrance about the missing Dragon. "For now, I'm going for a walk while it's still light enough to see blazons."
"I'll come with you," Furbetrance offered.
"No, you can do more from the air. I'll shout if anything happens," Tom promised, and he turned on his heel and marched out of the stableyard onto the street, rather grateful to be walking for a change.
The street was the only true passage in Wall, all the rest being narrow, crooked, dank, and fish-smelling alleys. Most ended at the water, for the whole town was built on a narrow strip of slate that ran from the cliff out to sea a mile or more. The street was lined with less-expensive inns, taverns, food shops, and wretched hovels that seemed to be mostly the business places of sad-looking women in bright but skimpy clothing.
As the Librarian passed on, the buildings became more imposing; wood-and-slate structures fronting low warehouses presumably filled with outgoing pelts or incoming staples the fur trappers would buy at inflated prices.
Tom examined everything closely.
MANDA closeted herself with the innkeeper's plump and cheery goodwife, Flavia. Mistress Squiller assured the princess she was by far the best seamstress in Wall, and proceeded to prove it by whipping together gowns and acces-sories at an amazing speed, talking all the while.
"Don't get much call for finery like this," she warbled. Manda stood in her shift on a low stool to allow Flavia to measure, poke, prod, and suggest to her heart's content. "I'm that happy to be of service. Haven't forgot my skills, have I? No, ma'am!"
"You have very few ladies, then, in Wall? Not by land nor by ship?"
"Occasionally one of the ship's captains brings his wife (or so he calls her, if you take my meaning, ma'am) on his voyage. Not many, no. Turn to the right, dearie. Ah, so, that's fine! Let me just take a tape to yer bosom. Remind me, now! Is it the fashion to wear the bodice low or the collar high, these days? I'm that far out of knowing, here."
"Rather more high than low," replied Manda. "I'll be frank with you, goodwife. My friends and I came to Wall seeking my cousin and her three young children, kidnapped by a troop of eight or ten unknown horsemen some days ago. Have you heard of them, at all?"
Flavia shook her head in outrage and dashed a kind tear from her eye, being careful not to dislodge a mouthful of straight pins as she did so.
"I'm that sorry, mistress! No, I've not heard of such a cruel deed!"
"Let me tell you the story," said Manda, deciding to trust the woman. "Then perhaps you and Master Squiller can advise us what to do."
She spoke steadily for a half hour while the seamstress worked, interrupting only with cries of dismay and anger.
"The poor, poor Lady Rosemary! And three wee ones, too! What evil men would do such a thing? There are wicked men aplenty here in Wall, lady, but none that sunk down in depravity."
Clematis, already well known in town, was the favorite son of Wall that early evening.
Word spread quickly that he was standing for drinks in 92.Don Callander DRAGON COMPANION.
93.Slippery Slate's taproom. Outsiders crowded in to share the largess and regulars made room for them at the bar, tables, and benches. The rough seamen and rougher woodsmen listened to Clem's tale, and tried to answer his questions.
"I'll be frank with ye, lads," Clem stage-whispered, "my mates and I, we're looking for more than a Dragon. We seek a kidnapped lady and three little ones!"
The crowd moved as close as they could to listen.
"She be Lady Rosemary, daughter of king's Historian Murdan, of whom ye've heard many good things."
"We all know well of Murdan. He's the king's favorite, I hears," someone called out.
"Aye, and has made enemies in the good king's service, ye can wager," cried Clem. "Lady Rosemary was waylaid in Summer Pass and the trail leads here to Wall. Tell me now, has anyone here heard of a dozen armed and mounted strangers? They'd be maybe to the number of eight or so armed riders, castle folk, plus the lady and the kidlets."
There was a great deal of speculation and some rumors of this or that stranger being seen, but no solid information. While the ale flowed freely Clem listened intently but all the time kept a keen eye on the taproom comings and goings.
He didn't miss seeing one young dandy with an ornate sword slipping out the door into the darkness, alonea-only short minutes after he'd entered looking very much like a man with a great thirst. But he'd never sipped a taste of Squiller's good brown ale.
"Anyone know that fancy youngster, just left?" he asked his companions. "Didn't even stop to take advantage of your hospitality, barkeeper!"
"I noticed him, but who was he? Does anyone know?" No one did. Strangers came to a seaport town both from sea and mountains, and nobody thought much about them. The potboy stationed near the outside door to the barroom came to Clem after a while.
"That there younker who didn't drink?" he asked. "Aye, laddy. What of him? Do you know who he is?" "No, sir, but did you see the badge he wore on his sleeve?"
"None of it," said Clem, pushing his jack away empty and wiping his mouth on his cuff. "What was it?"
"Seen it before as a blazon," said the potboy, thoughtfully. "A Standing Bear."
"Ha!" cried Clem. "The blazon of Gantrell ships?"
"Yes, so I believe. Not sure of the name but I've seen the blazon more than twice."
Clem raised his voice to still the loud laughter and talk about him, loosened by the free-flowing ale.
"Hoy! Hey! Any of you dogs seen a ship blazoned with a Standing Bear? Gantrell ship, I think?"
A sailor near the back of the room stood and waved his hand.
"Three lie at anchor well offshore. I wouldn't have noticed it save they send no hands ashore, though they've been in port for a week. I felt sorry for their sailors, I did."
"I'll take a look at her," decided Clem. "You boys have another drink on Master Tom and me while I'm gone."
"Better take a lad or two to help ye," advised the barkeep. Clem crooked his finger at three of the closest; two old friends from the deep pine woods and a dock roustabout he knew. The foursome slipped out the back door of the taproom, hardly missed as the barkeeper began drawing from a new keg just then.
FURBETRANCE circled slowly over the long cliff and out to sea, flying slowly and gliding silently in the clear moonlight. He turned his eyes and ears on the scene spread out below him, selecting those places where a Dragon might choose to hide a or be hidden.
At his furthest arc over Quietness Ocean's chop he was attracted by three great square-rigged ships anchored on the very edge of the harbor before the bottom became too deep to drop anchor. While the dozen or so other, smaller ships in the roadstead tended to huddle as close inshore as they could, these three stood alone. They showed no lights.
"Bad manners, at least," muttered Furbetrance at this. "Lights should be required."
With no sound at all the Dragon lowered almost to the wave tops and skimmed alongside the three vessels, passing them just out of bowshot. He could hear the creak of cordage as the ships rocked in the long swell, and the low 94.Don Callander DRAGON COMPANION 95 sounds of voices. A bell clanged the half hour.
Furbetrance smelled the salt seawater, and most of all the musty odors of gulls and terns, but under these he caught the scent of cooking, of men in confined spaces, anda what was that?
He turned and passed downwind of the ships again, sniffing carefully.
It was the smell of a woman; mingled perfume and the scent of a gentler soap than sailors ever used.
"Could be a captain's woman, come along for the ride," he mused. "Or it could be Rosemary."
Again he swooped close to the restless waves and flew as close as he dared to the darkened ships.
The aroma of woman came again. And the sound of a child whimpering in uneasy sleep. A woman's soft tones, answering and soothing.
Furbetrance shot straight up, keeping his body well clear of the direct moonlight path as seen from the decks, below. He made his course directly back to the Slippery Slate, so fast the wind keened as it rippled over his scales.
"STANDING Bear?" asked one of the four watermen huddled about a tiny fire at the seaward point of Wall. "Yes, young sir, I know it. Standing Bear's sail come here, once in a while. They're common in the fur trade, I believe."
"Is there one in now?" asked Tom, holding out his hands to the flames.
"Haven't seen one," said the eldest of the boatmen. "Ask my son Jamey there. He has the good eyes in the family."
"Not one, but three," said Jamey. "Funny thing, too. I was hired to carry passengers out to one of them early this morning. Foggy it were, ye recall, Daddy?"
"Aye," said his father, puffing on his long-stemmed pipe. "Not see a hand outstretched, I swear."
"They sent me packing in a rush, once these people had boarded the biggest three-stick. Wouldn't let me stay to get return passengers, as is the custom. Told me to shove off and keep me distance!"
"Passengers? Tell me about them," the Librarian urged. He placed a single silver vol on the ground near the fire where it glinted and gleamed in the firelight.
The elder man leaned forward, picked the coin from the sand, examined it carefully, and slipped it into a waistcoat pocket, nodding to his son.
"Thank ye, sir! Most generous of ye! Well," continued the son, "They numbered six in all, if ye count the tads."
"They went willingly, did it seem to you?"
"Hard to say, master. The young woman, she wasn't too happy about it, I thought, but the little dandy who paid, he sat up close to her with his arm tight about her. The kidlets clung to her cloak. I thought they were afraid the chop would toss them overboard."
Tom fished a second coin from his pocket and laid it by the fire.
"I said to them kidlets, *Don't be afeared, little fry. Jamey is the second best boatman on the Wall after me Daddy. Ye'll be safe.' "
"Did they answer?"
"No, just looked fearing and tearful, master. Thank ye, again! Now, that fancy, the one dressed like a castle dandy, yapped at me to shut my face and row, so I did. Paid well, I must say."
Tom considered the matter. It surely was Rosemary, her children, and her captors. The dandy? Who might that be?
"Did you know these ships at all?"
"No, sir. The big one had her name covered with a tarp, come to think of it. I never recognized a one of her sailors that I saw, either."
"I'll tell you why I ask," said the Librarian. "Some friends of mine and I are looking for a kidnapped lady and three children. These were most likely who you saw, I would say."
"Nobody else like that come to Wall in recent days, at least," agreed Daddy.
Said Jamey, "They come by fog and dark of morning, and never stopped at any inn, I think. They all still smelled strong, to a waterman like me, of horse sweat and fresh manure."
"What I wonder is why have these ships stayed here so long?"
"If what you're telling us is so, and I see no reason to doubt you, for the shame of it all," said Daddy, "I would guess the first three days they were here waiting for this shore party to arrive."