Free Dragon Castle by Joseph Bruchac Page B

who speaks fewer words than our old weapons master.
    I help Paulek to his feet.
    â€œI’m really tired,” I say. “You’ve completely worn me out.”
    Paulek smiles. The fact that I put him on his back yet again has not bothered him at all. He delivers a loving punch to my chest. More bruises.
    â€œ Ano! Yes, I take pity on you now, eh?”
    Paulek goes back into the main castle. I have no doubt where he’s going. Our sparring over, the entrancement has returned. He’s heading back to his perch, where he can stare out the window onto the garden. Perhaps if he is lucky—or so he thinks—he’ll catch a glimpse of the princess strolling about with that vile pet of hers in her arms.
    Making my way around the main courtyard, I hug the walls, staying behind whatever obstacles I can find to prevent Temny or his men from noticing me.
    I needn’t have worried. As usual, the baron and the princess have hidden themselves in the guesthouse. I hear some sort of chanting from within. The cloud of smoke that’s been constantly rising from one of the chimneys since their first night here now has a green tinge to it.
    The baron’s men seem unaware of me as I slip quietly past them. They’re all engaged in their usual pastimes of dicing, betting on knife throws, and arguing over who is most obviously cheating. They’re cooking the last of our depleted flock of hens. When we have dinner tonight with the baron and the princess, chicken will not be on the menu. They’re also still drinking from the casks of wine that Georgi brought them. The arrival of strong drink was greeted by the rabble with considerable delight.
    Even Peklo forgot his original plan to break Georgi’s bones when he saw our clever head retainer roll out that first cask. Not our best wine, of course. Far from it. But good enough to turn their attention away from other things. I wonder if Georgi might not have put a little something extra into those casks. Not poison. But something that might, in some ways, calm their urges.
    For now they do seem to have forgotten the young women of the castle. Not that remembering them would do them any good. Aside from the princess, the only female still inside our castle walls is Cook. After Georgi’s rescue of Charity, she and all the other females were spirited out the sally gate with instructions to go to their relatives’ homes in Mesto and remain there until things are again safe at Hladka Hvorka.
    But will things ever again be safe? Will any of us?
    And what can I do, even with Georgi’s help, to save us all from whatever the baron has in mind?
    I wish I were older.
    I wish my parents were here.
    I wish I knew how to make my wishes come true.
    But I don’t.
    The only thing I can think to do right now is to get away—for a little while at least—from this place that feels less like home each day. I slip out the open gate, cross the moat, and walk down the slope until I reach the beech trees of the old forest.

PAVOL’S LEGEND
Sedem
    GREGOR WAS BACK. Just as he had done every autumn before, when the caravan of his Gypsies arrived in their land, he left the bright-painted wagons of his comrades to come and spend time with Pavol, Uncle Tomas, and Baba Marta. This time, however, there was a difference.
    Gregor walked through the door of their dom with a sack over his shoulder that clanked as he walked. He dumped out its contents. A pair of swords and two shields.
    Old, Gregor said, but still good.
    And that day they began Pavol’s training with weapons of steel. By the time he was fourteen he had mastered all that Uncle Tomas knew of swordsmanship and waited eagerly for each autumn when he knew Gregor would come back and show him even more.
    Pavol also treasured those visits as a special opportunity to learn more of the world around them. The Gypsies traveled through every land, more or less unseen by the rulers. Even the Dark Lord seemed