by LeRoy Clary
He wouldn’t forget the smile, either.
CHAPTER SIX
The road twisted and turned along the north bank of the river, entering groves of trees bursting with new green leaves, as well as winding through swampy grassland. Twice they found apple trees clustered together and once a small orchard at the edge of the forest, growing untended as if they were wild. Rake also spotted a couple of pear trees. Both of them silently acknowledged a clan member or two had passed this way with a turn of their hands that others would take for a twitch. It was a small and thankful salute to the past and a promise to the future.
Both of the latest apple trees they found were old, probably over fifty years, if the trunks were examined closely. Neither had been pruned in many years, so the apples were small, sour, and hard. The few shriveled examples still hanging were rotten. If he had time, Rake would have pruned both trees back and the apples for the next few years would be larger and sweeter. Some farmers cut theirs back by a third each year believing that generated the largest fruits.
They passed no farms or homes, and there were no other travelers on the road. That was not unusual because there were few crops to sell in a town or village market at this time of the year, and the road only continued on to the village with the dog, and then to the trading post, where it ended.
They ate dried fruit and nuts from the small bags in the rucksacks. Cinder chewed slowly and remained sullen and silent until she pointed at the horizon. Her voice rose to a near shout even though she was sitting right beside Rake, “Did you see that?”
Her voice and action startled him. Rake reached for the knife at his hip. “No.”
She still pointed, her attention drawn to their right, away from the river. “Over there. At the very top of those trees. I thought I saw a dragon.”
He relaxed. “Probably a bird. In the distance, they can be hard to distinguish.”
“I only caught a glimpse of the wing. It looked reddish.” She sounded as if she doubted herself.
“The morning sun can do that. Make things red, I mean.” Rake turned away from where she pointed and readied himself to move on.
Cinder turned to him, face red, the pointing finger now directed at him. “Why do you tag onto everything I say? You either explain it away or tell me what it really is?”
“I’m just talking. Trying to keep the peace and to help you.”
“Well, shut up and watch for the Red instead of correcting me.” She walked away as if storming the battlements on a palace wall.
Rake decided it was another time for him to shut up. In fact, for the last day since meeting her, he didn’t know when he should talk and when he shouldn’t. It seemed a mistake either way. In the middle of the night, when he thought he heard a whisper of sound and didn’t wake her to discuss it, he should have. Now that she had seen a flash of red in the distance, he shouldn’t say anything.
Trying to make sense of the young woman was too confusing. He was supposed to find her attractive but not supposed to look at her. He was told to struggle to walk as fast as her, to shoot a bow as accurately, and to read trails as well. However, if he did any of those things, she would pick a fight because of him doing it.
Now he was supposed to watch the forest all around them, the trails on the roads, make sure people from the village behind didn’t sneak up on them, and at the same time, keep an eye up in the air in case a red dragon flew past. With all those things to do, he couldn’t keep track of his own feet.
However, he remained calm and quiet as the road turned straight and cut across the level marshland for as far as he could see. A slight hint of green taller than the grass ahead told him another forest lay up there, and a purple hint above that told of mountains beyond. He silently watched the edges of the road as Cinder had instructed him.
“You don’t have to take it out on me,” Cinder snapped a short while later.
Rake lifted his head and turned to her in surprise. He hadn’t done or said anything he knew of this time. After inwardly groaning, he asked, “What?”
“Very mature of you, giving me a silent treatment.”
“Uh, you told me to shut up and watch for anything red in case it was a dragon.”
“That was way back there when I said that. Are you a child in a man’s body?”
Rake ignored her and kept walking . . . or tried to. The grass at either side of the road grew knee-high. Although it was far off to their left, the river came in view occasionally. The water was not yet as high as the later spring thaw in the white mountains would make it, and the flatness of the area along with the absence of trees suggested it flooded often, probably yearly. Any trees trying to get established would be washed away in the annual floods.
He was still watching all she had directed him to when Cinder said excitedly, “Did you see it?”
“See what?”
“I told you to watch for the Red.”
“You said, that a long time ago before you said to watch all the other things. I was busy looking at the river, the footprints on the road, and those beside it, where to place my next foot, and all around to make sure we aren’t attacked. I guess my attention drifted if a Red flew past us.”
“Not past,” she said. “Along the top of the tree-line. Did you feel the tingle on your back? I did.”
“I’ll see it next time.” He hadn’t felt the nearness of the dragon. However, the comment was meant to pacify her. She had turned and was looking at him and scowling again—and because of that, she didn’t see the flash of Red as the dragon came into view again. This time, it was directly ahead of Rake, and behind Cinder, and flying directly at them. His back felt the tingle, and it increased with every beat of the wings of the beast. Cinder was angry and either ignored the feelings on her back for the approach or was too focused taking out her anger on him to pay attention to the warning the dragon gave.
“I’m beginning to think you’re blind,” she said hotly. “Or, that you just don’t care.”
“I do care and said I’d see it the next time, which was true.” Rake withheld his smile. The dragon was flying so low and fast, it would pass over them in a few heartbeats. His back stung like tiny insects were eating the birthmark. Seeing a dragon flying directly at him should have had him running in terror if he was a normal human, but the great animal almost seemed to project a calming aura in his direction. He was impressed, amazed, and lost in a sense of wonder at the same time. His feelings were of friendship and his feet remained planted.
His back crawled with ever-stronger stings. He said quickly, “Do you know how to duck?”
“Duck?”
“Yes. That Red you saw is right behind you and is about to knock us down when it passes over.” Rake fell to the ground as she turned.
Cinder dropped beside him; her mouth wide open.
The Red dragon spread its wings wide and the leathery skin billowed to slow it down. It touched the ground with its hind feet no more than twenty steps beyond them. It smelled rancid and sour. Dried blood and coagulated guts coated its chest and claws, and bits of stringy, rotted meat hung from between its teeth when it turned and bared them. Rake had the urge to lead it to water and bathe it, then clean the dragon’s teeth with a sharp stick as if he was its mother.
Strangely, he still felt no fear despite the nearness of the dragon. None at all. It was the first dragon he’d ever seen up close, and only the third or fourth at any distance in his life. The animal’s body was larger than the cabin he lived in, the wings longer than most trees are tall. The jagged, exposed teeth protruding from under the lips were all larger than his hand from fingertips to wrist. He looked at the curved claws. Each came to a needle-point.
Cinder huddled beside him in fear, slowly edging behind him. He felt her trembling but refused to pull his attention away from the dragon.
Rake understood that fear. The dragon was close enough to reach out and snatch either of them with the mouthful of jagged teeth before they could move. However, the fear he shoul
d have felt was totally missing. He returned the calm gaze of the dragon that tilted its head from side to side to better examine the humans. Rake did much the same as he looked it up and down, taking in details as calmly as if he examined a stray milk cow.
Blood seeped slowly from where one hind claw met the toe if that was the correct terminology. The dragon flicked the snakelike tongue to lick it clean. But the eyes never left Rake.
Rake found himself taking a step forward. The dragon drew back, cautious, but not fearful or aggressive.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he cooed, not knowing how to address a dragon, so he treated it as he would any animal on the farm.
The dragon maintained the same distance between them as if Rake was able to hurt it, a squirrel threatening a bull seemed an apt comparison. Cinder took their odd dance as an opportunity to escape and edged away. She was on all fours, so she slowly crawled crablike to avoid drawing unwanted attention. The dragon’s tongue shot out and flicked near Rake’s shoulder, then pulled back with a snick of sound. It flicked out again and almost touched his nose. Rake stood still, knowing the dragon would have already killed him if it wanted to. One ball of caustic dragon spit would melt him if the old stories were true. It was as curious about him as he was to it. Rake said, “Can you somehow feel my presence like I feel you on my back when you are near? Do you know I’m Dragon Clan?”
His back tingled more after the question. It stung, but not in a hurtful way. He was getting used to it, like when he placed his hand in the cold water of the creek beside the cabin in the summer. It stung at first, then felt better, and finally became enjoyable. The feeling of the nearby dragon had turned enjoyable in the same way.
Cinder stood upright, still slowly backing away. Then she spun and ran. Like a raptor watching prey, the Red’s head darted to one side to watch her sudden movement. The dragon’s eyes followed her progress for a moment, then calmly returned its attention to Rake.
He said with a soft chuckle, “You need a bath.”
The dragon’s head turned far to the right as it looked momentarily at the river. Then, as quick as a blink, it spun its head to the left and watched the forest, appearing exactly like a bird keeping watch about itself. Or perhaps he was shaking its head, as if it was telling him, no, it did not need a bath.
It had pulled its wings to its sides when it landed. It returned its full attention to Rake and peered at him without blinking for a long moment. It moved a few steps closer. The tongue flicked out again. The dragon sniffed and twitched its nose as if it didn’t like what it smelled. Then it slowly backed away and spread its wings wide and pumped them a couple of times. With a leap, the leathery wings had caught air and propelled upwards. The second sweep of the powerful wings pushed it ahead and higher. The gust made Rake’s hair blow back and sand flew. It turned in the direction of the river.
Cinder rushed to his side as they watched it grow smaller in the distance. “Can you believe that? We confronted a dragon.”
Rake didn’t bother reacting to her lie. He said, “Yes, we did.”
“We’ll tell everyone about it. This was wonderful.”
“I’ve never been that close to one,” his voice was hushed with awe as he watched it spiral upward. It circled high overhead and turned to look at them one final time. He said, “We’d better move. I’d like to stop and build a fire tonight.”
She didn’t move when he started walking.
He paused then asked, “What’s wrong now?”
“I was a coward and you know it.”
There were a hundred responses to that self-recrimination. All were either pablum or destructive. Like a fork in the road, he could go left or right. Rake was again reminded that there are times when saying nothing is the right thing. It seemed that around Cinder that was always a good policy. He placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.
Her body was rigid and resisting—then melted. She cried and blubbered, “I was so scared.”
“It was a fearsome creature.”
“Y-You stood up to it. It respected you.”
“I was just as scared.”
She released him and stepped back. Her voice held anger again, “No, you weren’t. The two of you looked at each other like you were testing the other. I’ve heard some Dragon Clan bond with dragons. They can see into each other’s minds and even see what the dragon does when it flies. Is that what happened back there? You bonded?”
“If we did, it was a one-way bonding, because I can’t see into its mind or anything else. I think it sensed we were Dragon Clan and came to investigate. Just curious. It was probably out hunting dinner and saw us, and maybe felt something like we do on our backs. Perhaps it sensed friends. Nothing more.”
She moved closer and looked into his eyes. “You’re sure?”
“Cinder, if we had bonded, I’d be dancing and singing at the top of my voice. I’m not doing any of that. I’m as confused as you.”
She turned away and started walking. “Are you coming or not?”
The disapproval was in her tone again. She walked so fast he’d have to jog to keep up, so he let her pull ahead as he walked at a leisurely pace. She would get over her anger if he remained distant. A flicker of movement caught his attention ahead of her. A rider on a horse emerged from the forest and headed in their direction at a trot.
Cinder saw it too. She stopped and waited until Rake joined her. They walked together, watching the horse and rider come closer. Both kept their hands on their knives.
The horse was a farm animal suited for a plow. The feet and hooves large, the legs powerful. As it drew closer, they noticed it didn’t wear a saddle. A rope bridle controlled it. A large man rode on it, leaning low over the neck as he encouraged the horse to run faster.
He pulled it to a stop before reaching them. The horse sniffed and sidestepped at the lingering scent of the dragon. It snorted and gave a nervous buck or two and sidestepped away.
The rider was near their age, large boned, heavy-set in appearance, and he wore his long hair tied with a string behind his head. His sturdy clothes were those of a farmer, and he seemed excited, face red and panting. He called, “Hello there. People around here call me Frog.”
Rake understood why the name. The frog had a wide mouth and a croak for a voice. Rake used his thumb to indicate which was which, “Rake and Cinder.”
“A dragon just flew over our farm. I was chasing it, but it flew away.” His eyes were wide, his voice strained as he panted to catch his breath.
“We saw it,” Cinder said quickly, taking charge of the conversation as if she thought Rake might begin telling Frog they were Dragon Clan. Frog obviously hadn’t seen the dragon land and examine them.
“Why are you chasing it?” Rake asked. “I mean, what if you caught up and it ate you?”
Frog slid from the horse and landed on his toes. “To see it, of course! It was magnificent.”
“You’ve never seen one? Not of any color?” Cinder asked with a sweet smile that Rake recognized as totally phony. She was cleverly probing for information that was sure to come. With that one simple question, she might get a valuable response about the Green.
“Not until two days ago. First, a green one flew high overhead and kept going towards the mountains, so I couldn’t get closer, then today that red one was flying so low it scared the stock. Even the chickens were squawking and running for cover. I thought it might land and I could see it up close, but I guess not. Where are you two going?”
“West, towards the Endless Sea. My brother and I have never seen an ocean,” Cinder said easily, telling another lie so convincingly Rake wondered if it was the truth and another item she was withholding. Even the casual mention of him being her brother sounded truthful. If good liars are to be respected for their abilities, Cinder was due his respect.
Frog said, “You might want to change those plans. From what I hear, there’s a war over there, fighting, looting, and burning. Lots of killing. New rulers came
from across that ocean you want to go see, got here about fifty years ago and things have changed.”
Rake was surprised that word of the conquest had spread all the way across the desert Brownlands to reach Frog’s farm. Supposedly, there was little interaction between the two kingdoms, but that may have changed in recent years. The fighting must be serious to cause rumors to fly that far. The sea was at least thirty days of hard travel away, maybe more. It was a puzzle that he’d wait to solve. However, from the information Frog was supplying, Rake might not have to wait long to resolve the answers his family needed—at least the initial answers. Then came the questions of what the Dragon Clan would do. What was the best course of survival for all the families?
Frog turned his horse around walked along the road with them, leading the horse by the bridle. The horse kept an eye on the sky. Frog flashed another of his wide smiles. “Where are you staying tonight?”
“Sleeping outside,” Cinder said a little too harshly for someone she was trying to ply for information by being overly friendly.
Rake amended her curt answer with a smile of his own. “We’re traveling fast and light, Frog. We’ll grab a little sleep and be on our way by sunup.”
Frog said in his deep, gravelly voice, “We got a dry barn and clean straw to sleep in. And my ma is a great cook.”
The mention of food drew Rake’s attention, and the evening would give them more time to talk and perhaps learn more of what they came for. Frog was already spewing information about Princeton, Breslau, and a possible war without their prompting. It would be unfriendly to refuse the invitation—and the food. His stomach growled its agreement. “Would we be welcome?”
“Ma loves company, although she usually likes a warning. But sometimes that can’t be helped.”
Cinder said hesitantly, “I don’t know.”
“Come on, you have to walk right by our place, anyhow. If you can’t stay the whole night, we can at least feed you and then you can be on your way.”
