Dragons of the Watch by Donita K. Paul
“Too late,” she groaned and exposed the arm beneath her. She gritted her teeth. A long red line ran from the inside of her elbow to her wrist. Blood bubbled out the end of the gash.
Bealomondore clamped his hand over the wound. “This is deep. You must have nicked an artery.”
“That’s not good,” she whispered. She knew his other hand moved quickly. He searched for something, but she couldn’t summon the words to ask what he was doing. That seemed odd to her but not strange enough to break through this sudden malaise. The malaise seemed odd as well. Perhaps the combination of heat and the physical effort to make the daggarts had drained her.
“Not good, but we can fix it. I have some battleground experience.”
“Oh, aren’t I lucky?”
She heard him laugh, but the last words he spoke were mumbled. Or maybe she just couldn’t hear through the darkness closing in on her.
Bealomondore kept his hand over the wound while Ellie’s blood poured through his fingers. Why wasn’t the flow stopping? He shifted his grip and breathed a sigh of relief as the worst of the gushing changed to a slow trickle. With his other hand he searched his pockets for a handkerchief.
His jacket! He’d tucked the square of cloth he wanted to use in the breast pocket of his jacket, which hung on the back of a chair clear across the kitchen.
Tak looked at him and then at the brown coat. Without hesitation, he trotted across the wooden floor, took the back of the jacket in his teeth, and tossed his head. After two tries, he yanked it off and brought it to Bealomondore. The goat dropped it beside his mistress and immediately sank to position himself along her other side. Bealomondore winced, but apparently the shattered crockery did not penetrate Tak’s thick white hair.
Bealomondore pulled out the white linen, put one end in his teeth, and twisted the fabric with his free hand. He then let loose of the wound and quickly wrapped the handkerchief around Ellie’s wrist. He jumped up and ran to the lower drawers and pulled out several of the cloth covers that had puzzled them earlier. He folded them into a pile of squares a little larger than Ellie’s wound.
He untied the first bandage, placed a square on the seeping blood and applied pressure. When that cloth soaked through, he added another on top and held it firmly, hoping to stop the flow.
He shifted his position, wondering how to sit amid the debris. What should he be doing to ensure Ellie’s recovery? No medic roamed the streets of Rumbard City. King Yellat had provided many medics in the last war. He’d done that one thing right. The old ruler had not been a competent leader in time of war. But one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.
Bealomondore closed his eyes tightly. “Oh, Wulder, I could use some help right about now. Laddin would be the best dragon to send, but of course, You know that.”
Tak sprang to his feet and ran for the back entrance.
“Did that goat just leave to get the dragons?” he asked. “Impossible.”
Ellie groaned. A bloody stain spread beneath his hand. He added another piece of pretty linen and reapplied pressure.
Tak had not been gone a minute before Bealomondore heard him coming back in. The goat crunched through the broken glass. Behind and above him flew Airon.
Bealomondore breathed deeply. “Airon, do you know where Laddin is? Can you get him here quickly?”
The tumanhofer heard no reassurance in his mind, but Airon took off on the mission. Help would come. It was just a matter of time.
Tak sat down on the shards of broken glass again.
“You’re going to get cut.” Bealomondore also sat down, carefully. He put Ellie’s injured wrist on his leg. “We have to keep this elevated. Wound higher than the heart.” He glanced at the goat and caught the animal’s intense gaze. “You’re listening to me, aren’t you? I wonder how much you understand.”
“Maa!”
“That much, huh?” Bealomondore used the back of his free hand to itch his nose. “I think it’s the smell of blood. My nose gave me lots of trouble on the battlefield. Of course, I only noticed it in the brief moments of respite.”
He looked down at Ellie’s face. “She looks too pale. With that dark tan it’s hard to tell, but she looks pasty.”
“Maa.”
“You think so too? Well, don’t worry. As soon as Laddin gets here, she’ll start healing so fast, you won’t believe it.”
She stirred. He stroked wisps of fine black hair away from her face. “Ellie, can you hear me? You’re going to be all right.”
Her eyes didn’t open, but her lips curved just a tad. “You’re talking to Tak.”
Bealomondore jerked a little but not enough to let go of the hand he held while applying pressure to the wound. He added another square.
Ellie breathed a little deeper. “Don’t feel silly. I talk to him all the time.”
“He’s kept up the conversation better than you. You’ve offered no opinions for almost half an hour. You’re going to be all right. Airon has been here, and she’s gone to get the healing dragon, Laddin.”
She licked her lips. Her eyes remained closed, and she grimaced.
“Are you in a lot of pain?” he asked.
“There’s a piece of glass sticking into my shoulder, right side.”
Bealomondore tried to see from his position but immediately knew he would have to move. “I’m going to put a tourniquet on this wound so I can clear some of the glass and see what other wounds we should be tending. I don’t think there are any other big cuts. I looked you over as soon as I got to you.”
She barely nodded her head.
He used a longer towel, tore a strip off of it, and bound yet another clean square to the top of the stack protecting her wound. He rolled up his jacket and propped her arm up. Standing cautiously so he wouldn’t shower the broken shards clinging to his clothes on his patient, Bealomondore kept an eye on Ellie. Her color still bothered him.
“Wulder, send help. Quickly.”
He got out the broom and dustpan he’d spotted in the pantry earlier. Ellie remained still. Heat from the oven radiated through the room. He dripped perspiration as he swept away the shattered dishes, then got on his knees and used a towel to gather up the bits and pieces closest to Ellie. He found scratches on her ankles and two on her neck. The piece that she’d felt against her shoulder hadn’t penetrated her skin or even her blouse. He carefully removed it and several other shards under her. Then he washed the places where she’d bled a little from the scratches.
“That feels good,” she said. “It’s so hot.”
He washed her face and hands again, just to make her more comfortable. He looked at the windows and door and knew he could not open them. A breeze would be refreshing. Perhaps he should move her to a cooler spot. He needed some ideas.
Sitting next to her, the tumanhofer again asked Wulder to speed Laddin to their assistance. He’d seen the healing dragon in action many times. Ellie looked so pale.
“Ellie, can you hear me?”
She whispered, “Yes.”
“Can I get you something? A cool drink?”
“I’m too hot. Yes, please. A drink.”
Climbing the cabinet took him but a moment. He’d developed some skill at scaling the urohm fixtures. He searched for the smallest glass he could find. Getting down with a glass of water took a little more effort.
He put it down beside her. “I’m going to help you sit up.”
She managed to pull herself to a sitting position with his support. He held the glass to her lips, and she gladly drank.
“Thank you, Bealomondore.” She leaned back against him.
“I think we should get you out of this furnace.”
She looked around, puzzled.
“Just a figure of speech. But I really think you’d be more comfortable outside in the shade.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful, but—”
“I’ll help.”
She managed to stand with Bealomondore supporting most of her weight. He held her close as
“My head hurts.” She rested her forehead against his shoulder. “Oh no. I’m going to throw up.”
Bealomondore grabbed the bucket of water he’d used when he mopped the floor. She nearly fell for that brief second as he leaned away from her to snatch the pail. He got it under her chin in time.
“Done?” he asked.
“I think so.”
“I’m going to sit you on the footstool while I get your water and the washcloth.”
“All right.”
He pushed the stool with his foot until it touched the leg of the kitchen table. When she sat, she latched on to that leg, her arm wrapped securely around it.
He bent to look in her face. “Can I let go? Are you going to be all right?”
“Leave the bucket.”
He did. He scrambled up the cabinet again to rinse out the washcloth with cool water. Ellie was still clinging to the table leg when he returned. He washed her face and gave her a sip of water.
“Are you ready to move outside?”
“Yes,” she whispered between only slightly parted lips.
Tak stayed too close as they made their way.
“Move, goat,” ordered Bealomondore.
The goat scooted ahead and disappeared around a corner.
Twice on the way to the back entrance, Ellie had to stop to gather the strength to go on. Bealomondore carried the bucket, and she lost what was left in her stomach. They rested.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked. “It’s only a little cut.”
Bealomondore didn’t argue the point that it was significantly more than a little cut. “You’re overheated,” he explained. “And I think you may have a concussion.”
“I didn’t land on my head. My shoulder.”
“I heard something harder than your shoulder whack against the floor. I’m not saying you’re hardheaded, but …”
She smiled, but it turned into a grimace. “I can’t laugh, Bealomondore.”
He noticed that she stumbled over his name. “All right.” He gave a theatrical sigh. “I’ll tell you what my brother called me in private.” They reached their exit. He guided her to a box where she could sit for a moment. “My first name is Graddapotmorphit. My brother called me Phit. If you wish to call me by something shorter than Bealomondore, I will not be offended.”
He heard a faint giggle and thanked Wulder.
“You’re going to be all right, Ellie.” He helped her up again and eased her through the gap to the backyard. Tak waited outside and resumed his position at Ellie’s side.
Bealomondore kept up his encouragement. “Laddin will be here soon, and he’s a remarkable healing dragon.” Now he was chattering just to keep her alert. “I don’t know many dragons, so I wouldn’t know if one healing dragon is better at healing than another. I have heard other singing dragons sing, and some are better than others.” They walked across the lawn to the shade of a large tree. “So it stands to reason that some might be more gifted than others of the same talent.”
He eased her down on the grass. Tak settled beside her on the less injured side.
Bealomondore explained what he wanted done. “We need to keep your arm elevated and still. Lie down, and I’ll sit next to you with your hand propped on my leg.”
Once she was situated to his satisfaction and before he took up his position, he asked if he should go back and get the glass of water.
“I’m fine. Keep talking. Tell me how you got into the bottle city.”
“All right.” He thought for a moment as he loosened the tourniquet and applied a new pad of cloth. He then lifted her arm to rest along his thigh. “I told you I was on the way to Ragar to do the painting, right?”
“Yes.”
“I was traveling by cart, with a splendid old nag named Stemmore pulling it. I stopped to give her a rest. Across the glen, the landscape turned rough. Green grass ended among a scattering of boulders, and just beyond, an interesting ridge of stone rose out of the ground. I thought the contrast would make a fascinating painting.
“I left Stemmore grazing and walked around the glen, looking at the prospect from different angles. I went back to the cart, pulled out my painting supplies and my case of clothes. If I was going to paint, I would protect what I had on with a smock.”
“But you needed to get to Ragar.”
“Yes, well … I often get distracted when I see something that must go on canvas or paper.”
“So you decided to camp and draw?”
“I don’t think I decided anything. I just followed an instinct.” He rubbed his chin. The notion to paint the ridge that thickened into a dominant hill and then just as quickly diminished to another string of protrusions from the earth had been too much to resist. He’d thought a number of times that the lure to that area had been more than a whim. Something pulled him.
“Bealomondore?”
“Oh, where was I? Returning to the glen with my things.”
“Yes.”
“When I got to the place I had previously chosen as the best angle, I saw something I hadn’t seen before. The bottle. Of course, I didn’t recognize what it was at the time, only an anomaly that I simply had to investigate. I approached the glass obelisk and realized it was much bigger than I originally thought. I could see a countryside, green and lush, inside. I had my hands full, so I leaned forward. Some invisible force pulled me straight through the glass.”
Ellie nodded and closed her eyes. “The force that pushed me in was Tak.”
“Maa.”
She grinned. “He won’t deny it.”
Bealomondore concentrated on a sound coming from a distance. A chorus of chirps and chitters sounded like an assembly of squirrels voicing their opinions. The entire watch of dragons flew into sight.
Laddin reached them first. He landed on Ellie’s stomach and stretched out so the front side of his entire little body pressed against her. Ellie turned startled eyes to Bealomondore.
“He’s checking the function of your vital organs.”
Her eyebrows went up. Bealomondore almost laughed at her reaction to the minor dragon’s methods. But he noticed the color returning to her cheeks, and that was more satisfying than humorous.
Laddin hopped up, ran to her head, and draped himself over her forehead. Ellie giggled. The minor dragon frowned. A few seconds passed, and he skimmed down her side to the injured arm. There he stayed.
“Now you can just relax, Ellie,” said Bealomondore. “Laddin has assessed your injuries and has gone to work on the one he deems most urgent.”
“I feel something,” she said.
“You feel better, I hope.”
She looked at him with a puzzled frown. “You know … I think I do.”
Ellie sat up on the edge of the pillow she used for a bed. The sun streamed in and serious dust motes performed ballet in its beams. Laddin had already left. He’d slept with her for two nights, completing the healing of her broken head and slashed wrist.
Pulling back the sleeve of her nightgown, Ellie examined the inside of her arm. No scar marred her skin from the elbow down to just above her wrist. There, the skin puckered slightly in a white line. She closed her eyes and moved her head cautiously from side to side. No dizziness.
She opened her eyes, took in a big breath, grinned, and stood up. Today she and Bealomondore could go back to the library. Maybe this evening they could have tea with Old One. Maybe tomorrow she could feed the children daggarts.
After dressing, she went to the kitchen to see about breakfast.
“Bealomondore?”
He didn’t answer, so she checked outdoors. He sat on the bench next to the glass-topped table.
She watched him for a second before speaking. “There you are!”
Tak bleated and ran to greet her. Bealomondore started, then smiled. “You’re well enough to be sneaking around, scaring people.”
“I wasn’t trying to be quiet.” She rubbed Tak’s he
“It’s a tiny diary.”
“Tiny? It’s pretty big.”
“No, no.” He shook his head and turned the pages to the beginning. He read. “I start this tiny diary to record our trip crossing the sea and settling on the distant continent. Mother says I have to because we are making history. That is why I picked the smallest diary in the bookshop. I do not want to write lots and lots. I want to run along the deck of the ship and explore the hold. That’s in the belly of the ship, and I am strictly forbidden to go there.”
Ellie started her climb up to the bench. “So for a urohm, it is tiny.” She sat beside her friend. “Is it interesting?”
“Very.” He flipped a few pages. “Listen to this: I hid today among the lime barrels. I couldn’t find my brush, and my hair is in tangles. I put a bonnet on, but Mother is sure to ask why. Memorizing the principles is boring. Papa says we must know the words by heart so we can answer anyone who asks questions. Why can’t the grownups do that part? I want to play with new friends there. Porta Mellow says they will be so impressed with us that they will hang on our every word. Strangers from Amara don’t go to Chiril often. No wonder! This is a boring trip. But when we get there, I want to brag about crossing two oceans. It’s going to take a long time. I don’t have to memorize principles now. I’d forget them by the time we land. Good! I’m running out of room to write.”
Ellie picked up a muffin from the table and peeled back the paper. She nibbled on the puffy top. “Mmm … pumpkin.”
“There’s warm amaloot too.”
Two butterflies danced around each other on the way to a flowering bush.
Ellie smiled as she watched them. “Where’d you find it?”
“In the basket.”
Her head snapped around to look at her companion. “The urohm diary was in the basket?”
“No, the amaloot was. The diary was in the room next to the nursery.”
Ellie reached in and found her drink still warm in a glass jar with a lid. “This is good.”