The Last Dragon 2

by LeRoy Clary

  The salon map had not done it justice as far as size goes to the bay. The two points of land that allowed passage were so narrow a rowboat could easily cross them. Beyond was a body of water so large the far shore could barely be seen. Off to our left, which would be south, rose mountains that stood tall, reaching almost to the edge of the water. At least, that was the first impression.

  In front of the mountains spread a city on the sliver of level ground between the mountains and the water. Fingers of dozens of piers extended into the bay, where one lone ship was tied. As we lowered our sails, a pair of longboats manned by several rowers headed our way. Soon, our sails were furled, and the ship was pulled by ropes attached to the longboats.

  The Gallant was tied to a pier, and a gangplank set. The purser again stood at the top, a clipboard and pen in hand. I wondered if he would record that the man who had fallen overboard was missing. There had not been any mention of him or questions asked. His belongings would still be in his cabin, and sooner or later they would be discovered. If we were lucky, people would think that he went ashore and never returned, so some foul deed had struck him there. My instinct was to help that idea by mentioning seeing him ashore but decided that might cast a shadow on me. Best to remain silent.

  Kendra found her way to me, the girls lagging behind, smiling, giggling and wide-eyed. She handed me my sword, and I belted it on and instantly felt better. She hadn’t brought my bow.

  The slopes of the mountains behind Trager were green with trees, but the air felt dry and the sky clear. It was hotter than at any time in Dire, which near Crestfallen was often damp, chilly, and cloudy. A light jacket was normal most of the year, and a heavy one in winter.

  The contrast meant we’d leave our jackets on board, which would make my sword stand out. She had removed the arrows from the scabbard, so it puckered along the rear edge where the modification had been made and appeared poorly constructed. That was fine with me. An expensive scabbard or sword drew attention.

  After I belted it on and adjusted it where it rode comfortably on my hip, my eyes found Will, who nodded slightly as he turned his face away. There was no sign he wore any weapons, but they would be there. He would probably remain close to us as long as we were off the ship. I still hadn’t told Kendra more than the barest of facts about him, and nothing of the man who fell overboard.

  Emma and Anna were increasingly excited, talking among themselves, but now and then said words in our language. Their ability to adapt and learn amazed us. We followed other passengers ashore after each spoke to the purser before leaving. When our turn arrived, he repeated what he’d told the others in a bored tone, his eyes never lifting to look at us.

  “Trager is considered a dangerous port. Be careful and trust nobody. The ship will sail at sunset. Any passengers who are not on board will be left here, and no refunds will be made. Another ship may not arrive for days or weeks, and it may not have cabins for you. Please be here long before sundown to guarantee your safe passage.”

  The information was appreciated, and the fact he didn’t ask about a missing man was also good news. We bounced across the gangplank to the pier with rotting wood planks. Several had broken and hadn’t been replaced. We walked by stepping near the edges where the wood seemed most solid.

  The air of frantic activity that had permeated at the Port of Mercia was missing. No vendors were selling food or trinkets. Only a few dull eyes watched us depart.

  I turned to the city, or what I could see of it. As expected, the buildings were made of wood, weathered gray, unpainted for the most part. The few that had existing remnants of paint were chipped, faded, and old. The streets were narrower than the alleys in Dire. There were no raised walks for pedestrians, and there were few wagons or animals in the streets to compete for space.

  “Guide?” a cripple asked as we neared him. “An honest guide?”

  “Directions to the city square or bazaar?” I said.

  The man pointed, then looked to the next passengers to offer his services. I tossed him a small copper, which he grabbed from the air like a starving man might grab a slice of bread. He looked at it and said as he held it out for me to retrieve, “This is what I charge for being a guide all day, sir. A tenth is more than enough. I do not need your pity.”

  My instinct was to tell him to keep it, but why do that? “There will be another at the end of our day, guide. Come. Show us the way.”

  He stood up, a crutch under one armpit, and he kept up with us as he hobbled on his good leg. It made me feel guilty, but he didn’t ask for consideration, and I gave none. We walked along the waterfront for a way, then took one of the few wider streets up the side of the hill to a flat area. It had once been a flourishing city square at one time, I suspected.

  The square was paved with flagstones the size of wagon beds, the square as large an area for daily commerce as any in Dire. However, now tall grass, weeds, and even small trees grew between the flagstones. Directly ahead of us, a tangle of thorny vines spread along the flagstones that we went around. Beyond them stood the first of a dozen tattered stalls in an area large enough to hold hundreds.

  “Is this it?” Kendra asked.

  The cripple looked around and said with a toothy smile, “More sellers are here today than usual. They must have heard a ship came in and brought all they have to sell.”

  Kendra drew a deep breath and headed for the first kiosk. I walked ahead of the cripple and asked Kendra softly, “Any mages nearby?”

  “None.”

  Anna caught up as we reached the first stall, which displayed a variety of dented and battered cooking pots. Her eyes were excited, and she raced to examine a tall copper pot good for boiling laundry. The seller didn’t bother standing or trying to convince us of the quality of her pots. She simply watched us move her along to the next stall, one that sold used clothing. Emma now walked with me, holding onto my index finger as she tried keeping in step with me, taking two for every one of mine. I varied my stride to make it harder and she giggled.

  I slowed and took shorter steps as I looked at the trash for sale. I asked the cripple, “Are there any shops that sell new?”

  He slowly shook his head.

  “None?” I asked unbelievingly.

  “Upper Trager has a few, they say. But travelers and us who live here aren’t allowed up there.”

  I glanced at Kendra. “Upper Trager? I haven’t heard that term.”

  He pointed higher up the slope of the hill, to another part of the city.

  Following his finger, we found larger buildings, ones in far better condition. Part of the way up there stood a barren black scar. All the buildings in a five-block area were gone, leaving behind ashes and burned timber. “I see.”

  He shrugged. “City guards are at the upper gates to keep us down penned down here. But before we reach the upper city, the ex-guards, ex-military, and ex-constables will capture us, take all we have, and ransom what’s left.”

  “What about down here?” Kendra asked.

  He spat. “Here the old rules still hold. Selling and buying are sacred and free to all. Been that way since the first building went up. Not that it means much if one of them catches you out of sight of others. Stay near the ship is my advice.”

  Speaking of being out of sight, I turned. Will was back there, or he was supposed to be. If he was, my respect for him increased. We moved on to another stall and another. They featured broken pottery, jugs with broken handles, mismatched plates, and a seller in a stall with a few dull knives displayed. We circled the others and returned to the one with used clothing.

  Kendra and the girls pawed through the offerings while the cripple and I kept watching. Not even a stray dog moved. In observing the thin people, the condition of their clothing, the ramshackle houses, and despondent attitudes, my guess would be any loose animals had long ago been eaten. The seller of meat cooked on sticks across the square wouldn’t be getting our business.

  The girls found hats referred to as bo
nnets by the seller. They had short bills and tied under the chin. Still, they kept much of the direct sun off their faces. Kendra whooped for joy when she found a hat made of straw for me. It was mismatched, meaning it was so poorly woven that it was wider on one side than the other. The straw was dry and brittle. I placed it on my head, and it fit, if a bit loose, to the joy of all three girls.

  Kendra found scarves for all of us. I didn’t understand why she wanted them until I noticed a seller wearing a similar one. It reached from wrist to around her neck, back down to the other wrist, protecting the back of the neck, shoulders, and bare arms from the sun. It was loose enough to remain cool, provide shade, and made of lightweight material.

  I stood aside while they rummaged through the rest of the inventory. On impulse, I asked the cripple, “You got a name?”

  “Call me Flier. Time was, I ran as fast as birds fly.”

  “Do you travel?”

  “Used to.”

  “A map on the ship showed a river located to the west.” I pointed, where the river should be.

  “The Trager River, same name as the city. You can see the mouth of it from your ship if you look that way,” Flier said.

  “The map showed it begins high up in the mountains.”

  “Up near Vin Pass.”

  “I assume the other river on the other side of the pass is the Vin?”

  He chuckled and said, “Want to guess where it goes?”

  “Ever been there?” I asked.

  He gave me an odd sort of wistful look. Then, his expression eased. “I was born in Vin. If my leg was up to it, I’d go back. My family is there, a good place to live. Not like this dead place at all.”

  The girls were about finished and were counting out small coins to the shopkeeper, but Flier still puzzled me. “Why’d you run to earn your name?”

  “Messenger for the King’s Army of Vin. That was when we still had one, and I was young. I used to carry messages from Vin to Trager and back, used that mountain pass a dozen times.”

  The girls carried their purchases to where we stood, and we walked down the slope towards the ship again. We wouldn’t be eating in any restaurants if they had any, and there seemed no reason to stay ashore.

  Flier walked ahead and suddenly pulled to an abrupt halt. He turned to us and shouted, “Run!”

  Four men stepped from behind the corner of a building ahead, each with a club of some sort in his hand. Two clubs were little more than sticks, another appeared to be the handle of a shovel or rake and the last a stout length of square oak. Their clothing was filthy, torn and patched, and hung on their thin frames.

  Kendra said in a soft voice, “More of them behind us. It’s a trap.”

  My concentration was on those ahead. Kendra would have to hold off those behind. Besides, those in front were closer and moving directly at us in a shambling run. I glanced at the three behind, twice as far away and moving slower. Behind them, another shape slipped from doorway to alley, always out of sight and always coming at us. No, it was only three of them, and behind was Will. They had no idea he was there as I slipped my blade free and faced the four in front. Between Will and Kendra, those behind stood little chance. Will would probably take out one or two before they realized he was there.

  Flier moved off to my left a few steps but didn’t retreat. He stood on his good leg and pulled the crutch free. He held it across his body like a staff, ready to punch, swing, or defend. I felt certain that if he chose to try to slip past the men advancing, they would have allowed it.

  Instead of waiting for them to reach us, I moved ahead where my sword had space to swing without accidentally striking one of the girls who were terrified. Using a sword properly required room for not only the blade but dancing feet to misdirect. They surged ahead as they attacked. They came as one, shouting and yelling. That caused so much noise that those coming from behind had no idea Will was rushing up behind them under cover of the buildings and noise. My first slash cut one high on his arm, almost to his shoulder, a sliding cut of my blade that bit deep into the muscle.

  My training kept me from stabbing. Too often a blade stabbed is reflexively grabbed by a dying man, or it gets stuck inside a body as it falls forward, ripping it from the swordsman’s hand. I sliced a return swing to greet the next man, cutting another man high on his chest, from one side to another. Two down as I sidestepped and looked behind.

  Will swung his sword low, cutting across the back of a leg. Looking ahead again, Flier swung his crutch and caught a man charging at me and ignoring him. The crutch struck right under his chin, on his unprotected neck. He fell forward, determined to take another breath, but was unsuccessful. The last man saw all three of his fellow attackers down, and he spun and ran. As he did, Flier’s crutch swung again and caught him with a solid blow to his head right above his ear. He fell like a piece of split firewood after a wood chopper’s ax struck. I spun, expecting to join Kendra in another fight. I was wrong.

  Of the three who had rushed her from behind, two were on the ground, writhing in pain. She stood over one, her boot on his neck as she reached down and pulled one of her new blades free from his stomach. Another other wore her blade high on his thigh, the blade had penetrated nearly half its length. She moved to him and pulled the second knife free, to the wails and protests of the attacker. Kendra hadn’t been very gentle in recovering them. The last man lay at Will’s feet as he wiped his blade clean.

  Will walked closer to us and shook Flier’s hand as he muttered something to him I didn’t hear. Only then, did I reach out with my mind and find my small-magic worked. Looking up, more from habit than any other reason, I spotted the far-off dragon approaching. Turning away, I paused and looked up again. It was a Wyvern, not Kendra’s dragon. The shape of the body was too thin. Was my magic sourced from it, or Kendra’s dragon? I didn’t know.

  Emma and Anna were pale, silent, and scared as they huddled together. When I spread my arms to hug them, both backed away. Neither wanted any part of me. Glancing at my hand, my sword was still clutched around the hilt and ready to slash. Kendra spoke to them and finally managed to calm them down slightly.

  “Flier,” I said as I indicated those on the ground with a wave of my arm. “Does this sort of thing happen often?”

  “When there’s not enough food to eat, men do whatever it takes.”

  So, he was something of a philosopher too. If he had run away from us, the thieves would have allowed him to go in peace. Now word would spread of how he’d helped us. I glanced around, at the nearby buildings, looking for more danger. There had been more than one set of eyes watching from the windows above, and those people would carry the tale of what we’d done. And of what Flier, the cripple had done. There would be retribution aimed at Flier.

  Will said, “Sorry, I should have been closer. They moved in from a side street quickly and without being seen.”

  “Most were in the King’s Army ten years ago,” Flier said in a somber fashion as if that excused their actions as well as explained why it had been a precise military operation.

  Will said to Flier, “Is this going to cause you trouble?”

  Flier started to lie but finally nodded, eyes on the ground.

  Kendra was still consoling the girls and had moved them down the hill where the dead and wounded attackers were not so close. The cries of pain from them were difficult for my ears, too. The smell of blood scented the air. I said to Flier, “You didn’t have to help us. Now, it’s my turn to return the favor. You said you’d like to go home to Vin. I’ll purchase you passage on our ship.”

  Will said with a grin, “If you don’t, I’ll do it. Bravery and loyalty should be rewarded.”

  Flier had tears in his eyes. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “You didn’t have to fight to protect us, either. Come on, what do you need to gather up, so we can go back to the ship?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  The answer didn’t surprise me. He placed his cru
tch back under his armpit and limped along while wearing a huge smile. Will went on ahead, acting as a lookout, while I hung back behind the girls, my hand still on the hilt of my sword. I hadn’t missed the admiring looks Will had given it, nor his surprise at my skill in using it. That hinted again that he was not from Crestfallen, as I’d suspected. It would be hard to live in the castle and not know me or my reputation.

  Not that I bragged about myself, but I often heard others who did. Because of my foreign looks, my position serving the princess, and my penchant for getting into boyish trouble, all made me more than known. Some said I was a scamp. Besides, Will was unknown to me, and I made a point of knowing all the best warriors so I could learn from them. For a swordsman to remain the best, he had to practice. When they did, I attended and watched—and learned. Often, I challenged them in mock battle, and my reputation grew as I defeated them.

  However, the king obviously knew of Will—and where and how to quickly summon him to crestfallen. That said they’d encountered each other before. Kendra would be proud of my line of logical reasoning if I shared it, and probably wonder why it had taken me so long to come to an obvious conclusion. While not as accomplished at that sort of thing as her or Elizabeth, I was learning that, too.

  The narrow streets allowed for two people to pass each other without contact, yet for the eight or ten blocks we traveled down the side of the hill to the waterfront, not a single person walked the other way. Word of the conflict had spread. Many windows and doorways were boarded up with slats of wood nailed haphazardly across them. At least half the buildings looked totally empty, and far more might have been. The city was dying, the buildings rotting.

  The purser waited at the gangplank, his ever-present clipboard in hand. He watched Flier approach beside us with a curl to his lip, and when we reached the ship, he said rudely, “No visitors allowed on the ship.”