last remark and he glared at the Lady in outrage.
‘Shan! Bara!’ The maids came running to the door and stopped to stare. ‘Close your mouths girls! These are my guests. Fetch tea and juices and all the foods you can think of! We will sit here in the sun.’ The maids rushed to obey and Emla bespoke the Dragons regarding food for them. ‘We ate well this morning, but Mim and Tika tire of meat and there has been little fruit for them where we have journeyed.’ Ashta answered her.
Farn and Ashta reclined on the soft lawn edging the verandah and Tika and Mimnan automatically sat leaning against the Dragons. Emla was about to suggest they join her beside a low table but thought better of it on seeing how at ease they looked where they were.
Ashta’s eyes whirred as the Seniors came out of the House.
Iska spoke first, looking straight into Ashta’s eyes. ‘I had not realised how beautiful you are.’
Kemti and Yash murmured their agreement. Farn’s head stretched a little higher and Tika laughed. Farn glanced down at her and drooped a little. Sorry.” The Seniors were not sure they had heard correctly and looked a little puzzled.
At that moment though, the maids returned with trays laden with all kinds of different pies and tarts and breads. ‘Come, help yourselves,’ Emla invited. She gave a warning look to the Seniors whose minds were quivering with questions. ‘Eat your fill, Tika and Mimnan,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you may feel like telling us your stories when you have eaten enough.’
Mimnan, having reseated himself beside Ashta, with a heaped plate of delicacies, rose to his feet again. He bowed carefully to Emla and said aloud in a gently fluting voice, ‘If it please your Ladyship, you must call this one Mim. We do not use our whole names until we are considered responsibly grown.’ He blushed, the red of his cheeks clashing with his russet curls, and sat down again.
‘Aah. Mim,’ repeated Emla thoughtfully. ‘Tika is the correct name for you?’
‘Well.’ Tika rose as Mim had done to speak to the Lady. ‘I was called Chena when I was a slave, but Kija – that’s Farn’s mother you know – she called me Tika. It means “small one” in the Dragon tongue.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I will always be called Tika now I think my Lady.’
When Tika and Mim had eaten, both of them relishing the change from meat only for nearly every meal, it was decided that Tika and Farn should tell their tale first. Emla asked, ‘Mim, Ashta, would you like to stay or is there anything you wish to see or do that I can provide?’
‘Mim would see your Garden, Lady.’ Ashta said as Mim leaned against her, blushing again.
‘Of course! Gan,’ she called. ‘Ask someone to find Lorak and have him come to us please.’
Very shortly, an elderly battered looking human male appeared before Emla. He gave a creaky bow. ‘Lorak, my guest would see the Garden. He is called Mim and knows much of plants I believe.’ She smiled at Mim. ‘And Ashta?’
‘I would see these plants also my Lady,’ replied Ashta. ‘I know a little of medicine plants, but I would learn more.’
Lorak glanced at both Ashta and Farn, showing not a flicker of surprise at the sight of Dragons. ‘You won’t see the Garden at its best of course,’ he said. ‘Already the frosts have finished many of the flowers.’
‘Lorak, you know full well, the Garden is always perfect for each Season. Take Ashta and Mim then and let them share some of your growing magic.’
Lorak and Mim bowed and, with Ashta, set off along the side of the great House.
‘I wonder, do all gardeners always complain?’ Emla asked thoughtfully. ‘Too much sun, too much rain, too little rain, too cold, even though the Garden looks quite beautiful even as they complain.’
‘Lady,’ Iska reminded Emla firmly, ‘we would hear the story these two can tell us.’
While Tika and Farn were beginning their tale, Mim was gazing ecstatically at a cluster of
‘Shan! Bara!’ The maids came running to the door and stopped to stare. ‘Close your mouths girls! These are my guests. Fetch tea and juices and all the foods you can think of! We will sit here in the sun.’ The maids rushed to obey and Emla bespoke the Dragons regarding food for them. ‘We ate well this morning, but Mim and Tika tire of meat and there has been little fruit for them where we have journeyed.’ Ashta answered her.
Farn and Ashta reclined on the soft lawn edging the verandah and Tika and Mimnan automatically sat leaning against the Dragons. Emla was about to suggest they join her beside a low table but thought better of it on seeing how at ease they looked where they were.
Ashta’s eyes whirred as the Seniors came out of the House.
Iska spoke first, looking straight into Ashta’s eyes. ‘I had not realised how beautiful you are.’
Kemti and Yash murmured their agreement. Farn’s head stretched a little higher and Tika laughed. Farn glanced down at her and drooped a little. Sorry.” The Seniors were not sure they had heard correctly and looked a little puzzled.
At that moment though, the maids returned with trays laden with all kinds of different pies and tarts and breads. ‘Come, help yourselves,’ Emla invited. She gave a warning look to the Seniors whose minds were quivering with questions. ‘Eat your fill, Tika and Mimnan,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you may feel like telling us your stories when you have eaten enough.’
Mimnan, having reseated himself beside Ashta, with a heaped plate of delicacies, rose to his feet again. He bowed carefully to Emla and said aloud in a gently fluting voice, ‘If it please your Ladyship, you must call this one Mim. We do not use our whole names until we are considered responsibly grown.’ He blushed, the red of his cheeks clashing with his russet curls, and sat down again.
‘Aah. Mim,’ repeated Emla thoughtfully. ‘Tika is the correct name for you?’
‘Well.’ Tika rose as Mim had done to speak to the Lady. ‘I was called Chena when I was a slave, but Kija – that’s Farn’s mother you know – she called me Tika. It means “small one” in the Dragon tongue.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I will always be called Tika now I think my Lady.’
When Tika and Mim had eaten, both of them relishing the change from meat only for nearly every meal, it was decided that Tika and Farn should tell their tale first. Emla asked, ‘Mim, Ashta, would you like to stay or is there anything you wish to see or do that I can provide?’
‘Mim would see your Garden, Lady.’ Ashta said as Mim leaned against her, blushing again.
‘Of course! Gan,’ she called. ‘Ask someone to find Lorak and have him come to us please.’
Very shortly, an elderly battered looking human male appeared before Emla. He gave a creaky bow. ‘Lorak, my guest would see the Garden. He is called Mim and knows much of plants I believe.’ She smiled at Mim. ‘And Ashta?’
‘I would see these plants also my Lady,’ replied Ashta. ‘I know a little of medicine plants, but I would learn more.’
Lorak glanced at both Ashta and Farn, showing not a flicker of surprise at the sight of Dragons. ‘You won’t see the Garden at its best of course,’ he said. ‘Already the frosts have finished many of the flowers.’
‘Lorak, you know full well, the Garden is always perfect for each Season. Take Ashta and Mim then and let them share some of your growing magic.’
Lorak and Mim bowed and, with Ashta, set off along the side of the great House.
‘I wonder, do all gardeners always complain?’ Emla asked thoughtfully. ‘Too much sun, too much rain, too little rain, too cold, even though the Garden looks quite beautiful even as they complain.’
‘Lady,’ Iska reminded Emla firmly, ‘we would hear the story these two can tell us.’
While Tika and Farn were beginning their tale, Mim was gazing ecstatically at a cluster of
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