"I am understandably upset, of course. Lord Historian. The princess is my responsibility, and that of my family. We must recover her soon or face the king's justifiable wrath and Session's certain censure."
"You haven't told Eduard of his daughter's disappearance, yet?" asked the Historian in mock consternation.
"Not officially, no," said Peter. "I had hoped that we would find her here, anda"
"Well, if I see her, I will send her to you, or rather to Granger. Better yet, if she comes to me I'll bring her myself to Lexor. That way she'll be held safe until she sees you and your brother again. And her father, of course."
"Have you told the king of her absence?" asked Gantrell.
"How could I, when I didn't know she had disappeared until you told me, just now? I'll write to His Majesty at once and tell him of our conversation and that I will take every step to locate his missing child. He's not to worry about her, of course."
"Of course!" replied Gantrell with a resigned sigh. He rose abruptly and stood, uncertain whether to break off the conversation or drive conflict deeper between them.
"Is there anything else?" asked Murdan, smiling in a most friendly way, showing he had forgotten the lordling's insult of a moment before.
"No, no, no a I think we've reached an understanding on these matters. You wouldn't consider turning Brevory over to my own marshal, would you? I could bring him in to Lexor for trial."
"No, I am committed to keeping him safely in custody," said the Historian bluntly. "He might be dangerous to you, m'lord. Better wait until he comes with me to Lexor."
"Oh, well, yes," muttered Peter, his manner distracted. "On the matter of the girla"
"You mean the matter of Her Highness, Princess Royal Alix Amanda?" said Murdan stiffly.
"Yes, yes. One hopes nothing untoward happens to her. The future of the kingdom hangs upon her safety and well-being. No one would want her harmed, certainly not accidentally ora otherwise."
"I take your meaning," responded Murdan. "I'll convey your feelings to the lady, if and when I see her. Which may not be soon, of course."
"Oh, by the way, I've heard you've taken a new Librarian into your service," said Peter as he turned away. "You are most fortunate."
"Even more so than you might think," the Historian told him. "His name is Thomas and he is, wonder of wonders, a human!"
Gantrell's back, turned to the Historian, jerked violently at this and he glanced back over his shoulder.
"A human, you say! How droll! Do you actually believe in human beings. Historian? I eschewed such myths when I was a baby."
"Oh, there are humans, albeit very rare. Thomas the Librarian is a rare individual. He's been very useful to me already in the few short weeks since he came to Overhall."
"If you tire of him," said Peter with a frosty smile, "send him to me and I'll give him plenty of work to do."
"Perhaps we can share his expertise one day," suggested Murdan pleasantly.
The lordling stalked away, followed by his dozen men, their concealed weapons causing them to shuffle awkwardly. Their departure might have been dramatic, had not Peter's footman forgotten to take along his red lacquered chair and scurried back, much to the amusement of the Overhall garrison, to retrieve it and scuttle down the path after his master.
Murdan laughed as loud as anyone, partly in relief.
"All in all," he told Captain Graham, who had stood silently by throughout, "I believe we won that skirmish, hands down."
"Excellent, sir!" said the soldier.
"Next time it'll be a battle of spears and swords, not sneers and words, I fear," sighed Murdan, shaking his head sadly. "That is a stupidly proud man. Or proudly stupid man. Who can say which?"
154 Don Callander DRAGON COMPANION 155 "SHE was here, I swear it!" cried Plume. It was dark beyond the Gantrell pavilion, and only dimly lit inside. The comptroller stood, shaking in his dusty, scuffed boots, before Peter of Gantrell, seated at table with a deep silver cup in his hand. "I saw her with my own two eyes, m'lord!"
"I don't doubt your eyes," Peter snarled at the Overhall accountant. "But you can't tell me where she is now, can you?"
Plume hung his head in fear and shook his miserable head slowly from side to side.
"They never confided in me, m'lord!"
"Yet you say you are among Murdan's chief advisers, privy to all his secrets, eh?"
"So I believed. Lord Peter."
"But not so deep in the Historian's trust he will let you know when a royal guest has departed his house? Who cannot see a conflict here. Plume? The question is, now, does Murdan suspect you of running to me with tales for a few vols of silver?"
"I truly believe not, master! He consulted with me only this late afternoon, about the receipts from his small holdings. He trusts me with all his money and investments."
"Well, perhaps you're right. Plume. We'll chance it, as nothing will happen to me if you're discovered. You, however, can expect painful punishment, I would think."
"Hanging would be the kindest treatment I could look for, m'lord!"
"Hanging, drawing and quartering! Being dragged behind horses through the streets of Lexor I suspect. Well, return to your post and keep sending me any plans the Historian hatches and tells you about. Will you accompany him to Lexor?"
"I imagine so, sir. He never goes to court without me."
"Is that right?" cried Gantrell. "But you weren't there with Murdan this past spring, but here at Overhall when it was taken. He may well be suspicious of you. Figure out who might have opened the postem gate to Basilicae. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, comptroller dear, if it's found out. Well, that's your problem! Go then!"
The accountant bobbed a quick, grateful bow and backed out of the tent into the pitch dark of a cloudy night. A spat of rain was falling, increasing steadily, as the sneak made his way along the course of Gugglerun to where the stream flowed through into the moat by a water gate.
A sudden flash of lightning revealed him running on the narrow postern drawbridge, to the watchful eyes of three Overhall guardsmen.
"Report him to the captain, again," said the sergeant-al- arms, gruffly. "The sneak is back from the enemy camp!"
^15^ Under Snow "Now what?" asked an impatient Furbetrance. "How do we get brother Retruance out of the mountain?"
Tom sat down to consider the problem.
"Water on this side of the mountains doesn't run off on the surface, so it must come through under the ground in springs, like this one."
Seeing that they were confused by his deduction, Tom went on. "Look at the dry slopes above us. There's no running water on the surface as there is on the north slopes."
"Well, that's true," agreed the Dragon.
"Ah! Then, when the snowcap melts in spring, some of the water must flow down to the desert floor, underground!" cried Clem.
"That's what I believe," Tom said. "There must be a lot of subterranean channels under these mountains to account for the springs in tliese canyons. The meltwater must carve them, always seeking the lowest level and flowing out at the foot of the mountains here."
"If I understand you," said Furbetrance, beginning to get excited about water flow, "if we could follow this stream back under that rock, we might find caverns that lead to Retruance?"
"Perhaps," said Tom.
"But how do we get into the caverns?" asked Manda, 156.
DRAGON COMPANION 157.
Don Callander pointing to the inch-wide crack from which the water flowed.
"If we could find out how Retruance got inside, we could follow him," Clem proposed, spreading his hands wide. "Simple as that!"
"Maybe not so simple," said Manda gloomily. "We may need a good magician. The nearest wizard is days away."
"Magic? Well, perhaps, but don't give up yet, beautiful princess!" cried Tom. "If a beast the size of Retruance could get inside, surely we can get inside, too."
"But just how a ?" began Furbetrance.
"We might try asking Retruance," suggested Tom.
IT was full dark before the missing Dragon's answer was completely delivered, put together from distantly heard bits and snatches, much-shouted repetition, and careful listening.
With the puzzle all pieced together, Retruance had said, "I went to the top of the highest peak in the Snow Mountains as a lookout to see if the kidnappers left any sign of whether they had passed north or south of the mountains.
"I'd just caught sight of them from a pinnacle having the best view of Broken Land, when the ice crust under me collapsed and I slid down a steep incline into a gaping hole in the mountaintop!
"The hole was so narrow, I couldn't spread my wings wide enough to fly before I was deep inside the mountain. Plopped among a stand of tall stone columns in the middle of an underground lake. Jammed tight! I can't move my wings to break free! Trapped!"
"Use your shrinking spell, as you did to sneak into Overhall," suggested Tom, speaking through the deep-voiced Furbetrance, whose voice carried best through the rock.
"Can't," shouted the trapped beast. "Spell calls for a paw gesturea-and I can't move a claw!"
"Ask him if the water in the lake is flowing," Tom told Furbetrance.
"Let me check," they heard the trapped Dragon reply, and it was some minutes before he called his answer.
"Yes, it spills from its basin, southward, I think, down a wide fall or rapid, and disappears under a low archway."
"It must be terribly dark where he is," Mornie said with a shudder. "How can he see?"
"Dragons have built-in torches," Furbetrance reminded her.
"Oh, of course!" cried the princess's maid, hitting her forehead with her palm in chagrin.
Tom paced up and down while the others waited patiently for some practical plan to take shape in his human mind.
At last Tom said, "Flying to the top of the peak to find Retruance's cave-in won't help. More rock might slip and we'd just bury the poor Dragon! We've got to get at him from below. If we can drill or blast into the mountainside, we might find the stream's course and follow it up to the under-mountain lake. There must be a clear, open connection, or we'd not hear Retruance as well as we do."
"I can do some pretty powerful blasting," said Furbetrance. "Noisy, at any rate. Stand back, please!"
"Wait! Wait!" cried the Librarian. "First tell Retruance what we're going to do. He should be ready to shout or bum a flare or something, to guide us once we're inside."
"Excellent thinking!" exclaimed Furbetrance. He shouted to attract his brother's attention.
"We'll blast our way in," he called. "Keep an ear open for us when we get close to you, brother! We may need you to blow some flame to light our way to you." "Be careful!" came Retruance's faint reply. Everyone except Furbetrance retreated beyond the first curve in the canyon. They sat down on the creek bank, ate a late supper, and watched and listened.
Furbetrance huffed and puffed a dozen deep breaths until his internal furnace was roaring and white hot. He gave off a brilliant scarlet-white glow that lit the canyon end, reflecting from the walls and overhanging cliffs.
The waiting party heard a tremendous clap of thunder. The reflected glare from around the comer was bright enough to read by, if they'd wished to read.
Darkness fell as suddenly. They blinked into it, seeing ghostly afterimages of each other before their eyes.
Again and a third time the Dragon blasted away at the narrow cleft in the rock, sending monstrous chunks of stone tumbling and flying like chaff from a threshing machine. A vast column of white steam shot up into the night sky. The 158.
Don Callander rumble continued for several minutes after the actual blasting ceased, with cooling rock snapping and cracking like rifle shots. The stream beside them bubbled and steamed.
"Any luck?" called Tom to the Dragon.
"Getting there," Furbetrance responded. "One or two more puffs should do it!"
Twice more the Dragon shook the very fabric of the mountain with his blasts.
"They must hear that as far away as Overhall," exclaimed Clem. "It'll scare the birds at roost in Broken Land, I'm positive!"
"Better wait for a while, now," Furbetrance cautioned, coming around the curve with a weary tread, his spear-pointed tail dragging in the coarse gravel.
"It's delightfully warm," cried Manda, dipping her hand into the water. "I'll have a bath while it lasts. Can you find our soap, Momie?"
"Of course, m'lady!" said the maid. She rummaged in her pack for soap and emollients suitable for a princess, even in the wilderness.
The ladies retreated further downstream, lighting their way with a firebrand.
The younger Dragon gave one last puff of smoke and fell over on his back, feet in the air, utterly exhausted.
"Sleep for an hour or two, friends," he muttered. "By then the rock will have cooleda ."
Tom and Clem sat on the gravel bank until the ladies relumed, freshly bathed and looking rather pink and damp in a most attractive way.
"Let the Dragon sleep," decided Tom. "A few more hours won't hurt us or Retruance. The business of climbing about inside a mountain will be pretty strenuous. Maybe we'd all better get some sleep while we can."
They agreed and settled down in their blankets beside the creek, where the water ran almost boiling hot for several more hours.
THE slice of sky over the canyon was fading from indigo to pale blue when Tom awoke. Clem was up before him, stirring up the campfire for breakfast tea. Furbetrance still snored mightilya-shaking the rocks slightly with each exha-lationa-a short way off. Manda, wrapped in her blanket, had DRAGON COMPANION 159.
rolled close to him during the night as the creek cooled and the air became chilly once more.
"Wake up, lazy Dragon!" the Librarian called. "Enough of this sleeping when there are daring deeds to do!"
"Huff! Mumble? Gruff!" said Furbetrance without opening his huge eyes. "Wassit? Whoesser?"
Manda woke with a smile and a laugh, rousing Momie with a playful pebble. She exchanged a good-moming hug with the Librarian and began to help prepare their meal.