Chapter Four #5
Bait tried to ignore him by ducking between his legs. He caught her with one massive hand and pushed her back. She glared at him with sudden fury.
“Leave?” I asked. We had discussed the possibility, he and I, on rare occasions when Bait was asleep and Sir Peledon was in a lucid mood. But always in the abstract, always a vague suggestion that one day, when Bait knew all that we could teach her and was ready for the wide world. “Why now?”
“I’m not scared of the Squinter!” shouted Bait. After a long and welcome absence, we’d heard rumours that the hateful Balor was floating around the upper halls again, close to my tomb.
“I would guard you against all dangers, so long as I am able,” said Sir Peledon, “but that is not why you must leave.” He knelt before Bait. “That silver coin you carry – show it to me.”
She fished the precious coin from her pocket.
Sir Peledon tried to speak in the human tongue, but as always his monstrous bovine mouth mangled the words. He shook his head in frustration and switched to the Dungeon Tongue instead.
“That, child, is the image of Good King Arus. Seven years ago, his daughter was stolen by a dragon. The sorrow broke his heart. I have never seen a man so disconsolate. In desperation, the king sent me and my fellow knights out to the four corners of the realm in search of the stolen child, though all hope seemed lost. In the town of Lastease—” and here he gently turned Bait around and pointed down into the valley, “—I heard rumours of a dragon living in the mountains. I followed these tales, and found the Dungeon.”
“I suspected as much!” I crowed from my nest in Bait’s backpack. “I always thought it suspicious that you arrived soon after Throte brought—”
He lifted me out of the backpack and put me on a rock beside the Door. Clearly, he had rehearsed this speech in his mind many times, and did not appreciate additional commentary from a talking skull. Even if the talking skull was quite right.
“You are King Arus’ daughter, stolen by the dragon.
At first, I could not be certain, but I am now.
I was sent to find you. Had Orphir not cursed me with this hideous form, I would .
. . I would have brought you home long ago.
I prayed that one of the other questing knights would find you, but none ever came.
Bait . . . princess, your father is a good man and a wise king.
Now that you are nine years old, old enough to travel on your own, now that you speak the surface tongue—”
I let my silence speak volumes on the topic of Bait’s mastery of the surface tongue. It’s a poor teacher who blames his student, but, honestly, Gloop was more attentive in my classes.
“—you can find your way to him. My old squire, Atten Ever-Faithful – I left him at Lastease when I set out in search of you. He may yet live. Seek him out. If he is gone, then go to the commander of the keep. Say Sir Peledon sent you. Tell them to bring you home.”
She stamped her foot. “I am home.”
“No!” Sir Peledon forced that one word out in the surface tongue, and snorted with the effort of it. “No, you cannot stay. A dungeon is no home. A dungeon is a prison, and you must leave it now.”
He unslung a bag of supplies from his shoulder and pressed it into her arms. Bait staggered under the burden of the bundle. She looked at me in confusion.
“I’ve always guessed there was something strange about you, child,” I said. “I cannot say what awaits you in the surface lands, but an old rogue like me would take the gamble if the reward at the end was a palace for a home – and a crown to boot.”
“I don’t want a palace. Or a crown,” said Bait.
“Then blue skies and open air and good food and the company of friends.”
“What if I don’t want any of those things?”
“Then you can always come back here,” I said.
The minotaur spoke over me. “This is not your place, princess,” he said, resting his axe on his knee. “You must leave today.”
“Why now?” she demanded. “Why can’t I stay longer?”
“Because . . . right now . . . I still have the wit . . . to say farewell.”
We watched her make her way down the slope. At the edge of the forest, she stopped and looked back, and I found myself hoping she would come back to us. “Remember to feed Gloop,” she called.
The minotaur nodded gravely. “I swear it on my honour . . . on my honour . . .” He fumbled for the words.
“As a knight?” I suggested.
Then she was gone. We lingered on the threshold of the Dungeon for a long time, watching wind bend the distant pines. It was a warm wind, the breath of summer in the surface lands.
“It’s a good time for her to go. All . .
. will be well.” He frowned with the effort of thought.
“She knows enough to reach Lastease. From there . . . Atten shall fetch her home. I wish I could go and greet him, but he would . . . he would not know me now, and justly so.” The minotaur rose, awkwardly, as if going on all fours would be more fitting.
He slapped his thighs. “Shall I bring you . . . to your . . . tomb?”
“No. Leave me here for a while. In case she comes back.”