Romantic Times, Jill Nelson, June, 2004
reviewcentre.com, Suzanne T. Eller, July, 2004
Product Description
Once a slave, Kale is given the unexpected opportunity to become a servant to Paladin. Yet this young girl has much to learn about the difference between slavery and service.
A Desperate Search Begins…
A small band of Paladin’s servants rescue Kale from danger but turn her from her destination: The Hall, where she was to be trained. Feeling afraid and unprepared, Kale embarks on a perilous quest to find the meech dragon egg stolen by the foul Wizard Risto. First, she and her comrades must find Wizard Fenworth. But their journey is threatened when a key member of the party is captured, leaving the remaining companions to find Fenworth, attempt an impossible rescue, and recover the egg whose true value they have not begun to suspect…
Weaving together memorable characters, daring adventure, and a core of eternal truth, Dragonspell is a finely crafted and welcome addition to the corpus of fantasy fiction.
From the Publisher
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About the Author
Excerpted from Dragonspell by Donita K. Paul. Copyright © 2004. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
"Are ye sure ye won't ride all the way into the city?"
Kale stood beside the farmer's wagonload of barley grain but hardly heard his question. Kale hardly heard the farmer’s question as she stood beside his wagonload of barley grain. Her eyes looked over the crude cart she'd traveled in and then turned to the dazzling metropolis across the wide valley. The sun sparkled on Vendela, a city of sheer white walls, shining blue roofs, and golden domes. Many spires and steeples and turrets towered above the city, but in a vast variety of shapes and colors. More than a dozen castles clustered outside the capital and more palaces scattered over the landscape across a wide river.
Seeing Vendela reminded Kale her life had changed forever. Her hand rose to her chest and rested on the small pouch hidden under her clothes.
I have a destiny. The thought scared her and pleased her too. After being a village slave all fourteen years of her life, she'd been freed.
"Well, sort of free," she muttered.
Almost a month ago she'd left River Away, her village of two dozen homes, a shop, a tavern, and a meetinghouse. In maybe another week, she'd go through the tall gates of the most beautiful walled city in all of Amara, quite possibly in the entire civilized world. It would take a week to get used to the clamor. She could feel it from here.
I'd go mad in my head if I stepped into Vendela tonight.
The city pulsated with thoughts and feelings of more people than she could count. On market day in River Away, she endured thirty or forty people close enough for her to feel their lives bumping against the walls of her inner person. But Vendela . . .
I might smother. I'll go slowly into that city. Nobody knows I'm coming. I don't have to hurry. A mile or so a day. Slow, ‘til it feels comfortable.
A lot of things worried her. It was easy to say you were glad not to be a slave any longer. It was hard to walk alone into a place you'd never been before. Nobody knew or cared about her in Vendela. In River Away, most everybody cared, even if the caring revolved around whether or not she worked hard.
"Girl!" The old man's bark dragged Kale away from her thoughts. He scowled at her. "I'm going right into the city. Ye might as well ride with me."
"Thank you, Farmer Brigg, but I'd just as soon walk the rest of the way. I can look at how pretty Vendela is longer."
She smiled up at him, feeling a bit of affection for the gruff old man. She'd ridden the last leg of her journey beside him on the wide wooden seat. He'd been kind to her, sharing his bread and cheese and stories of all the wonders in the great city. Nevertheless, Kale would not be rushed entering Vendela. She'd do it in her own time.
"Ye're headed for The Hall, aren't ye?" His pale blue eyes twinkled under bushy gray eyebrows.
Kale didn't answer. To say yes would give away more about herself than she intended. Not such a good idea, trusting someone outside your own village, even a grandfatherly, talkative old farmer.
"Well, I see ye aren't going to tell me." He winked at her and then looked off at the city, his expression growing grim. "Should ye get in trouble, go to The Goose and The Gander Tavern, North City. Ask for Maye. Tell her ye're a friend of mine, and she'll help ye if she can."
"I will," said Kale, and waved good-bye to the old man before trudging up the hill, away from the road. She listened to the squeak of the axle and creak of the wheels but didn't turn to watch the farmer's wagon lumber down the sloping road. Among an hour's worth of advice, Mistress Meiger had said to keep her focus on what's ahead.
Kale sighed. Mistress Meiger knows best.
Lush gorse bushes covered the grassy slope. The hill nestled right against one of the mountains. Farmer Brigg had known the names of all the peaks in the Morchain Range. His stories of how these names came to be fascinated Kale, but it was tales of Vendela that caught her attention. After all, Vendela would be her home.
Just over the rise, she found a place to settle. She sat with her back to a gum tree, her bare feet propped up on a stone outcropping. She rested her arms on knees pulled up to her chin and her chin on her folded arms. Then Kale took a long peaceful breath of the hot summer air and allowed herself the luxury of gazing at beautiful Vendela. The twisting spires and floating spheres were beyond anything she had imagined. The whole scene looked like a magical picture, clean and bright and full of promise.
Pulling the thong at her neck, Kale drew out a soft scarlet pouch. She placed it between her hands, gently rubbing the material, enjoying the smooth satin finish, elated by the secret of the stone-like egg within. The egg warmed, responding to her excitement. It thrummed. The gentle vibration communicated joy and anticipation through Kale's sensitive fingers.
