The jolly innkeeper's honest well-wishings sped them on their way.
FFALLMAR was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a ruddy, square face and intelligent, thoughtful eyes who had a 190.
Don Callander marvelous way of breaking into a sunny smile when he was pleased, which was often. His wife and children adored him, it was obvious, and his men and maids served his needs with friendly, cheerful willingness.
The broad acres of Ffallmar Farm were beautifully cared for, the dairy cows were pampered like household pets, and the orchards promised a great crop of tart-sweet pip-pinsa-those that make the best eating and cider pressing, according to Ffallmar, as he showed them about his place.
Young Eddie and his sistersa-Valery, very much the young lady, and Molly, who hadn't decided yet whether she was tomboy or lady (and was some of each, in her delightful way)a-followed them about, proudly displaying their own pigs, chickens, and ponies.
Their mother. Rosemary, supervised a gala supper and prepared a guest room for each of them in her spacious, spotless, low-eaved house. Hot baths and clean clothes were waiting for them when the farmer at last brought them inside. The imminent rain was beginning to fall, a blessing on the fields and apple trees.
"I can see why you chose Ffallmar for husband," Tom said to the lady of the house as they sat down to dinner. "He's a delightful, sensible man! I like him very much."
"And handsome, too!" added Rosemary, highly pleased at his words. She passed a pitcher of chilled cider to Clem and told her husband again how the wicked kidnapper Freddie had sniveled and sobbed when these two caught him at Wall.
"I rode a Dragon!" cried Eddie, waving a chicken drum-stick aloft. "We flew over the ocean and over the cliffs!"
"Son, eat that leg or put it back on the plate," admonished his father, but he smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "He wants to be a Dragon Companion himself one day. A fine ambition for a farm lad!"
"There could be many worse ambitions," said Tom. "Even this Companion will be happy someday to settle in such a place as this and make his land fruitful with grain and apples and healthy, happy children."
When Rosemary at last led her offspring away from table and headed them unwillingly for their beds, the travelers sat with Ffallmar on the farmhouse's broad porch, overlooking a DRAGON COMPANION 191.
pond where a flock of snow white geese was settling down for the night.
"Eduard Ten is all you've heard, certainly," said Ffallmar, lighting his pipe with a spill brought by a housemaid. "Hon-est, hardworking, faithful, and fair to his people, especially his countrymen, the farmers and the small merchants. His troubles come from a few great magnates, such as Peter of Gantrell and his noble friends, and a small group of wealthy commoners, mostly merchants and lawyers. They all feel they could rule, with a Gantrell as king, better than King Eduard can rule."
"But everyone seems to think His Majesty does uncommonly well as ruler," objected Tom. "Or am I just parroting what has been told me by friends of the king, men like you and Murdan?"
"No, I know some quite good men who don't dislike Murdan nor me but agree with Gantrell on this particular matter," said the young farmer. "Eduard Ten has powerful enemies, and most of them have gone to Gantrell's camp."
"Why do the rich merchants and lawyers oppose the king's party, then?" asked Clem, interested despite himself.
Ffallmar considered this while he relit his fragrant tobacco. His wife returned and, taking up some embroidery, sat beside him in the last light of day, stitching but say-ing little.
"These merchants don't want to pay the duties the throne demands, for one thing. Nobody enjoys paying royal taxes. No farmer, I can tell you, wants to pay money to support a distant, high-living court. But most of us realize it's necessary to pay for good roads and safe passage for our produce. For strong but fair royal justice, also, which is needed in matters in dispute. So most of us pay with grumbling, but we pay and on time."
"But?"
"But it seems very wealthy men love their money more passionately than others not so well off. They hate to see it go out. They can hire their own soldiers and sailors to protect their houses, carts, and cargoes. They claim they're paying twice for armed protection from the Barbarians, for example. A shortsighted view, but there you are! They 192.
Don Callander DRAGON COMPANION 193 think, because they have managed to make a fortune buying and selling goods or trying expensive lawsuits in the lesser courts, they're better suited to making decisions than a king bom to the crown and its power!"
"Not a new story, I suspect," said Tom thoughtfully. "It sounds all too familiar to me."
"Nor will it go away when Eduard passes the crown to his heir," put in Rosemary. "Manda, if she is crowned queen, will have these and even greater problems. I mention it to you, Tom, because it seems you'll be close to her when the time comes."
"It worries both of us, of course," admitted the Librarian.
"If it's left at that, Manda has the intelligence and the will to be a good ruler, I believe."
"I've no doubt of it, especially if she's lucky enough to have an intelligent, strong consort by her side to help her."
"If she is made queen," amended Tom. "If not, what then for you two?" asked Ffallmar bluntly.
"An Achievement of our own somewhere, I think,"
answered Tom. "I would be most happy serving Murdan for years to come, but I must make my personal way. With a princess for a bride, I'd need more income than my wage from Overhall's library, I imagine."
"No doubt about it!" Rosemary chuckled. "But our Manda will be content with less than the king's treasury to buy her gowns and fill her stables."
"I believe so, also," said Ffallmar. "Bring a lamp, Hewy!" They sat until full darkness, talking of farming and rul-ing, of crops and courts. And about Queen Beatrix.
"I don't know her at all well," Rosemary answered Tom's question. "I've only seen her twice, from a distance both times. That was when she married Eduard. My impres-sionsa-and I was little more than a lass myself at the timea-is she was unhappy in the milling, overwhelming crowds, unsure of her dealings with powerful men and their rich, proud wives, who know everything and how to do anything, or seem to."
"Was she an only daughter, do you know?" asked Tom. "Yes, I believe so," Rosemary answered. "Yes, that might explain some of her diffidence. And her young life was lonely, very isolated at Knollwater. Only children, as I can attesta"
"a and I can also tell you, being one myself," Tom inserted.
"a are often shy and, well, both quiet and spoiled. Fortunately for me, I early on found a husband who gave me the confidence to be a sure woman."
"I beat her regularly," teased Ffallmar behind his hand, loud enough so that all could hear. "It keeps her from being too spoiled."
"Nonsense! No one is more spoiled than am I!" cried his wife in mock anger. "Besides, you couldn't beat me at checkers, husband!"
THE next morning Clem and Tom set out on the next leg of their journey under cloudy skies and in cool, moist wind.
"It'll clear before eleven o'clock," promised Ffallmar, bidding them good-bye at his house gate with his wife and his children, all three of whom had begged to go along.
"I remember that adage from my childhood," cried Tom. " *Rain before sevena * "
" *a Clear before *leven!' " finished the children, hav-ing heard it so many times before from their father.
"We'll see you in the fall at Lexor," promised Rosemary, slipping a packet of ham sandwiches into Clem's pack. "Be watchful, gentlemen! Peter ofGantrell is not a man to forget or forgive, for all his smooth ways! He knows, you can be sure, who thwarted his plans to make me hostage against my father's support for the king."
Clem was silent for some time after they began to walk. At last he laughed aloud. Tom looked sideways at him with raised eyebrows.
"I've never been privileged to see a noble family this close," Clem confessed. "I find they are very little different from most of us lesser folk, from my own family."
"People like Ffallmar and Rosemary are what my father used to call the *salt of the earth,' " Tom told him. "They make everyone else seem better for having them around."
"I've never thought much of having land and wealth," Clem went on. "But if I could be like them, it would be worth the while. Better'n looking forward to setting trap lines in frozen mud and blowing snow every winter for the Don Callander 194 UOn v-aiianuv.i rest of my life, perhaps. Not that I will ever lose my love of wild places."
"Nor should you!" Tom exclaimed. "Ah, I would think Momie would be a happy helpmeet in anything you decided to do, Clem, farm or furs."
"I hope so," replied the trapper, blushing. "And I'll be worthy of her confidence in me, Tom. I really will!" "As for that, I don't spend a moment worrying about it,"
Tom answered.
"WHAT'S that ahead?" he asked, some miles later. It was another villagea-a town, rathera-on the shore of a blue lake that stretched to the horizon. "According to Murdan's map," said Clem, briskly, " *tis called Lakehead. It's a Gantrell holding. We'll tread more carefully from here on." The very pretty lakeside town was somewhat cheerier and less grimy and run down than Wall, the only other town of size Tom yet had seen in this world. The people were friendly, but they spent little time in pleasantries, rushing off on this or that errand before a visitor could begin to ask questions about the best way to go.
A short, red-faced, rather paunchy man wearing a tall felt hat decorated with a green feather saw them enter the town square and immediately headed importantly their way.
"A bailiff, by his feather," Clem warned in a quick whisper. "He'll be Gantrell's man, here. *Twould be best not to say too much, sir." "Mum's the word, then," agreed the Librarian, and he saluted the official pleasantly but with cool reserve.
"I am Kedry, Bailiff for Lakehead Town and Lakeheart County," the man announced pompously, with no preamble or greeting. "It is my duty to ask who you are and where headed."
"I am Thomas, Librarian of Overhall Castle," answered Tom. "This is my friend and traveling companion. Clematis of Broken Land."
"Broken Land, is it?" sniffed the bailiff, in a neutral tone.
"Pew of your kind ever come this way."
"I walk with my friend from Overhall, in order to broad-en my knowledge of the kingdom," explained the trapper.
r 195.
DRAGON COMPANION.
"We carry the greetings and letters of the Royal Historian, Murdan of Overhall," Tom went on. "I carry his letter addressed to His Majesty the king himself."
"What reason has that sly rascal for sending word to Eduard Ten?" wondered the bailiff aloud.
"I have no idea," protested Tom. "I am but the mes-senger."
"Messengers must beware, if the message is bad news,"
warned Kedry, frowning at them meaningfully.
"I can but assume that, as Murdan is Royal Historian, my master often has important words to write privately to the king," Tom said stiffly, giving the bailiff back look for look. "Few would dare to interfere with any letter addressed to the king, I think."
The bailiff stood back a pace, looking as though he might dispute this, but at last he glanced away and said, more respectfully, "You'll be looking for a ship going toward Lexor, then?"
Tom glanced at Clem, who answered with a shrug. "If that would speed our steps, it would be the way we want to go," he answered the bailiff.
"Well, in that case, ask for Captain Boscor of Maiden Skimmer," Kedry said, already moving away into the busy crowd. "He sails within the quarter hour from City Pier, out there."
He disappeared and the two travelers followed his gesture to a wide stone mole that jutted into the lake from its rocky shoreline. City Pier was lined with boats and ships of all sorts and sizes, some of them passenger packets, Tom decided, but most small cargo and fishing vessels.
They asked for Maiden Skimmer and were directed by a fisherman to the far end of the pier. "She's that two-master there."
Approaching the ship, which was busy with all the preparations for sailing, they were suddenly halted by an elderly man in shabby clothes, with a heavy gray beard and reddened eyes.
"Ye seek to sail aboard Maiden Skimmer]" he asked, blocking their way with a stout cane.
"We seek a way down the lake to Lexor rather," answered Clem sharply. "Do you object to this Skimmer, Oldster?"
r 196 Don Callander "Bonny lad!" said the man, more softly. "I wouldn't recommend Boscor's ship to anyone wearing the livery of Overhall. He's the haughty follower of a well, ye can guess, can't you?" Tom looked over the man's shoulder to where the sloop was beginning to warp away from the pier, her sailors busy hoisting sails.
"I can guess, but we are peacefully traveling on our master's business to the king," he explained. "What would you have us do, rather?"
"Delay your departure an hour or so. I recommend you sail with a king's man known as Trover. His ship's down the shore a short way. Called Pinnacle Flyer, she is." "And this Trover is more friendly to Murdan?" asked Clem.
"I can guarantee it, as over Boscor."
"Well, talking to you, old coot, we've missed Boscor's ship, anyway," said Clem. "I suspect your advice is good, however."
"If *tis," said the ragged man, "I could use a penny or three, just to thank me for the tip. We are being watched, and I have the reputation of being a vile beggar, you see."
"Walk down the shore with us and talk to us," said Tom, "and perhapsa-no, I guaranteea-you'll get your tip."
"Done!" cried the man, who looked a heavy drinker, although he was quite sober at the moment. He led them off City Pier and turned eastward, down a narrow path that paralleled the pebbly lakeshore. The way was lined with shops, sheds, shipyards and sail lofts, ropewalks and chandleries, all very busy. Boats and ships of every description were moored close to shore. No one seemed to note their passing.
"Here in Lakehead, everyone minds his own business,"
explained the codger when Tom remarked upon it.
"Except you," Clem said quickly. "It's my business to look after Murdan's business, here.
I am his eyes and ears in Lakehead."
"Is it so?" asked Tom. "You saw his blazon on my sleeve and knew we would be in trouble if we took this Boscor's sloop?"
"Oh, I had word of your coming from the Historian himself. I ekes out me living, or so it seems, selling and buying DRAGON COMPANION 197.
pigeons and doves. In amongst them are well-trained hom-ing pigeons secreted. Murdan and I exchange little notes now and again."
They had walked beyond the last of the shops and works and rounded a bend in the shore. The dove man went faster and straighter, no longer leaning so hard on his thick cane.
"You be Thomas Librarian, who rescued the Historian's daughter. And you, sir, are the doughty woodsman who showed him the way."
"You've established that you are well informed for a town drunk," said Clem, still suspicious. "Do you also sell information to a certain bailiff here? Didn't the fat one set you on us, just now?"
"I saw Kedry bespeak you, certainly, but he and I never talk to each other. He suspects what I ama-but then, he suspects everybody equally. Maybe this will convince you, youngster. Last night you sat at Ffallmar's table and ate roast spring lamb with Lady Rosemary's best mint sauce. Is that right?"
"Correct," admitted Clem. "How came you to know this?"
"Lord Ffallmar sent a bird to me this morning, and the menu was to be my proof of good intent, of course."
"I'm convinced, then," said Clem with a grin, giving the man a clap on the back.
"You'll live longer in the east, if you're suspicious of every man," grunted the pigeon breeder. "When ye've sailed, I'll send a fast bird off to Overhall. I imagine old Murdan will be relieved to hear you went with Trover, rather than Boscor. Incidentally, Trover and Boscor are brothers, to muddy the waters even more."
"There's an interesting story in that, I'm sure," said Tom and, as they walked slowly along beside the lake, the bird seller told them about the two captains who clung to opposite sides in the old conflict between the Crown and the Standing Bear.
They never did learn the pigeon seller's name.
*WITH the exception of the bailiff," complained Tom, *everyone we've bespoken so far on this journey has been Don Callander 198.