Dragon!: Book Two: Revenge

by LeRoy Clary

  They had traveled far enough that they could use normal voices. The grass was lush, wildflowers dotted the green carpet, and they sat. After the excitement of the road, the forest seemed to have calmed, and the soft breeze struck cords of soft melodies in the leaves.

  Looking ahead, Gareth asked, “Is that where the pass is?”

  “Yes. A road they call it, but really more of a wide track that goes over the mountains. Near the top, there is snow all year around. They say that only one in three who goes over it ever returns, but maybe that’s just a story.”

  “The travel is that difficult?”

  She looked at him with that same look mothers give to children who as silly questions. “The road is steep and hard, the air freezing, but it’s what they find on the other side that prevents them from returning.”

  “What is that?”

  Ann had been carrying Tad. She had placed him on the ground and now took his hand. “Nobody ever says. The few who return are changed, and none ever goes back over there.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “There is something awful on the other side of those mountains, I think. Too terrible for most to talk about. Now, I fear whatever it is has crossed over to this side.”

  Gareth considered her answer and found another question that needed to be asked. “Is that your viewpoint or the one of the Sisterhood?”

  Ann hesitated, “Both.”

  The fact that she didn’t elaborate told him she was not supposed to speak of it, and that she had probably just violated a promise or oath. He wouldn’t insult her or ask her for further revelations. Something on the other side. That is all he needed to know. He searched his memory for stories or rumors. Nothing came to mind, but he had never heard of anyone crossing the mountain pass. That struck him as odd.

  He glanced into the air and saw only a few birds. For safety, Gareth touched the minds of those people nearest, mostly soldiers, and then others farther away. In all, he set the idea that there had been far few birds than they remembered, and again that they had all watched birds flock together in other times so this was not unusual. He dismissed the objects they dropped as coincidence.

  The rising chatter of a thousand tongues wagging to the same tune had already decreased, then halted as if it never had been. Gareth sat in the grass and let his mind seek further. He found the Brotherhood and sensed their interest in the birds. His ruse hadn’t fooled them. They didn’t know what happened but shared the common belief that Gareth was the cause.

  He also sensed their fear. Not fear of him, but of another. Strangely, he found most of the thoughts of him were kindly and benevolent. Well, perhaps benevolent was too generous. He found the Brotherhood held little animosity directed at him, although they did share a common distrust and disappointment that he had not conformed to their way of thinking while they educated him.

  But he searched them for one individual mind, the Brother, who had been his longest mentor in Dun Mare. Of the hundreds of minds in the encampment he searched, the mind he wished was not there. He knew of at least two more farms where Brothers were held by the King’s men but didn’t feel he had the time to spend searching each of them.

  Standing, he quickly reached out and found Blackie. The dragon responded to his touch like the family dog did when one of the family returned to the house. It got excited then quickly calmed as he provided a mental pat on the neck and told them they’d be together soon.

  Ann also stood, still holding Tad’s hand. She looked at the boy lying at Gareth’s feet. “I can’t hear his mind, so he does not need my herbs for now, but listen to him closely. I do not trust him, or the other one.”

  Her tone held dislike and more, but Gareth thought back to the last medication he’d taken. It had been early in the day. Tad had needed another dose back near the road. He bent to lift the boy into his arms.

  A sharp pain struck his mind. An arrow of intense red light pierced his consciousness dropping Gareth to his knees.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The sudden stab of pain was unexpected, but Ann’s warning had him on guard. He flinched, deflecting the mental blow as it struck. Before his knees landed on the ground, he reacted instinctively and returned the attack, much like returning a slap in the face. It happened without thought and before he could prevent it.

  The boy screamed, grasping his head with both hands, then he rolled over and over, trying to make the pain dissipate. Gareth could have stopped it instantly, but didn’t. He allowed it to go on a full heartbeat. Then he stood and went to the boy. He knelt, ignoring Ann and Tad.

  That is what it feels like when you attack others. Gareth waited. When there came no reply but an angry scowl, he continued with the thought. I am stronger than you. When you try to hurt another I will do this again—and worse.

  Turning to Ann, he said, “He attacked me.”

  “We know. So does everyone else. It’s my fault, I should have known and medicated him sooner. He fooled me, and I’m sorry.”

  “He fooled both of us, but that will only happen once. Hand me your medication.” Gareth sprinkled some in his palm, glanced at Ann for a nod that the amount was right, then held it in front of the boy who was still lying on the grass, eyes wild with hate and fear.

  Do not knock my hand away. Take the medication, it will make you feel better. Gareth moved his hand closer. And you may as well stop trying to warn the others. I am preventing your thoughts from leaving this meadow.

  The boy reluctantly licked Gareth’s palm until all was gone, but Gareth continued to watch, making sure none was spit out. The boy’s eyes never left his, but they soon became unfocused. His bunched muscles relaxed as the herbs did their job.

  Ann said, “You should kill him now.”

  “I think he’s beginning to like me.”

  “I’m beginning to not like your sense of humor.”

  Gareth said, all trace of humor absent, “At least part of that outburst of his, escaped into the world. We should go quickly.”

  “The road to the pass is off to our left. There are plenty of paths and trails, but I do not know where we’re going so you have to direct me.”

  “Up the road, into the mountains a ways. There we’ll continue as if we’re going over the pass. Soon, after entering the mountains, there will be a valley running north and south. We’ll go north, up the valley until we reach another.” Gareth had given her the directions because it seemed that the only difference it made was the amount of trust they shared.

  Ann cast him a critical look, her features pinched, as if in deep thought.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I’ve traveled that road three times. Never all the way to the pass, but to the beginning of the snows while searching for herbs that only grow up there. I have never seen what you are speaking about.”

  “No, you haven’t. My father lived there and convinced all who might find their way into his valley that there were better berries, easier travel, or more potent herbs elsewhere.”

  “I see. He did the same to me as I do to my household pests. Only those times I was the pest.”

  Gareth pulled the boy to his feet and started walking. He said, “Unless I’m mistaken, we have a long way to go. Do you have a name?”

  He shook his head. Gareth considered naming him, but the lack of a name identified how the boy was treated by whoever controlled him. Filthy, ill, and uneducated in the use of mental powers, the boy had barely survived, but the one telling him what to do didn’t care about all that. The cuts and wounds already healing, and most of the dirt washed off didn’t change what was inside the boy and Gareth couldn’t lose sight of that.

  Ann and Tad went ahead, Tad now almost free of medication and beginning to ask the first of his thousand questions and making observations. Gareth blanketed Tad’s thoughts heavier so they wouldn’t escape, but enjoyed hearing him talk about the forest and wildlife. Why is that leaf bigger? There is a brown rock. Oh look, a tree that is bent. Are there frogs here?r />
  Almost as interesting as Tad were Ann’s responses. She had an answer for each, although often he pointed out something else before she finished talking. They moved faster than Gareth expected. The ground became both steeper and rockier. The trees turned from leafy oak and ash to more fir and pine. The slopes were steeper and slippery.

  The white peaks appeared more sinister, and he didn’t want to continue the trip. With each step, the feelings of fear and remorse increased. All that he enjoyed or liked was behind him, not ahead. He should turn back.

  “Feel it?” Ann turned her head and asked, her voice soft and whispery.

  Dread. Illness. Pain. All were ahead. Turning back would make him happier. Gareth nodded to Ann. He felt it, now. The same sort of ruse he used on his island. He projected the ideas that storms blew there, that the residents were unfriendly, and of course, the little red jumping spiders that went for the private parts.

  Nothing specific. Just the mental impressions that it would be better to be somewhere else. Most would gladly obey without ever realizing they had been influenced.

  Somebody ahead was using the same technique. The person had to have a mind powerful enough, and similar in strength and scope as Gareth. It was far more powerful than Ann’s, who could perform the same with animals nearby. She still felt and recognized it, though.

  The method was similar but crude. Untrained. There were lapses followed by renewed efforts. Other thoughts intruded, too. Twice Gareth caught secondary thoughts not meant to be transmitted. Once he felt the mind seeking a response, possible from the boy at his side. In another, he felt a wash of rage sweep over him when the other person stubbed a toe.

  “Has it always been like this?” Gareth asked.

  Ann shook her head and said, “I felt it right off. If that voice had been here, others of the Sisterhood would have heard it and spread the word, not to mention the Brotherhood. If they heard it, I’ll bet they would have sent hundreds here to investigate.”

  “What about now?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I would think some Sisters are close enough to hear. They have probably already begun warning others.”

  “The Brotherhood?”

  “Too far away, I think. They were generally all near the coast for days and days. The warning we’re hearing is low power, but high intensity.”

  Gareth continued to walk while trying to think of how to phrase his next question. He and Ann were working together for mutual benefit, not because they were allied or friends. At least, not yet. He said, “Does the Sisterhood have rumors of similar warnings in this area from before? I mean, last year or ten years ago?”

  She paused and waited for him to catch up. “You’re not very tactful or circumspect, are you? Your questions tell me more than you want me to know.”

  “Such as?” Gareth tried to keep his voice bland and was glad it came out as intended.

  “You’re telling me there have been other similar warnings around here for a long time. I’ve already told you we had not idea someone was keeping us away with their thoughts. So, you want to know if they were successful. I’m only telling you because there are times you are so transparent, Gareth. Be more careful if there are things you do not wish me to know.”

  “That was quite a lecture—and all true.”

  She let Tad wander to a patch of yellow dandelions while she watched. “I’m with you, but only to a point. Do not believe that anything I learn will be held sacred or withheld from my Sisters, and possibly the Brotherhood, if we believe it should be shared. If you are offended or disagree, tell me, and I’ll leave.”

  “Will you hold your tongue if you leave?”

  “No. I could lie to you, but you deserve the truth.”

  “Then it may mean I will have to either share less or trust you more. You never answered my question.”

  “I have never heard a whisper of a rumor of anyone trying to keep people away from this pass. Perhaps your father, if that is who it was, did this so skillfully, and over a long period of time.”

  “It was my father, as I’ve already told you earlier,” Gareth said, withholding the information that his father had done so for hundreds of years. There was information he would share, but there was more that he would not.

  The droning in his mind still told him to return home. He lifted his eyes to the white peaks and estimated their position. “We’re already in the mountains. I think that we’re close to where we’ll turn away from the mountain pass and head north.”

  “Up the valley that nobody seems to know exists.”

  “Yes, that’s the one,” he pointed to a smaller mountain. “I think it will be as we pass that one right there.”

  She turned and said, “It looks closer than it is. We cannot reach it today. Best to find a good shelter and spend the night.”

  “Agreed. We’re going to want to go slow when we reach the valley. I think the warnings we’re hearing are coming from there.”

  Ann groaned in mock horror and smiled. “As if I hadn’t already figured that out.”

  Gareth ignored her attempt at humor. He said, “Lead on, and keep an eye out for a good place to stay tonight. A place where a fire can keep us warm.”

  The boy at his side squirmed and tried to reach out with his mind to another, but Gareth blocked it and flashed a message, “We’re going to eat soon. If you’d like some food, stop trying to reach out like that.”

  He watched the boy, who was pretending to sleep, but felt no more attempts to reach the evil mind that had probably been directing, and mistreating him his whole life. Gareth had been thinking about it all day, letting the pieces fall into place where they wished. While he was far from the entire picture, he was learning.

  There was a single mind behind this. However, others accompanied him to this side of the mountains, and all had the talents of Gareth but were untrained. All seemed young. What would happen as they matured? Especially to the leader who had come to Gareth and threatened him while he was still on Bitters Island?

  He believed there to be at least three of them, probably four. Three, now that he had one with him, almost a prisoner. No, not almost. The boy was a prisoner.

  Gareth wanted to stop early today for the reason he’d given Ann, but also because he wanted to spend time with the boy and feel him out. He didn’t expect much information to be given willingly, but perhaps he could learn something if he asked the right questions and monitored the untrained mind for reactions.

  He had not administered any more medication to dull the mind to him, but Ann had replenished her supplies so the boy would sleep well tonight while drugged. Gareth couldn’t risk him waking and attacking while Gareth slept.

  Ann pointed, “How does that look to you?”

  A stream had gouged out the earth with last spring’s snowmelt. The banks were higher than his head, and where she pointed was a wide curve in the stream caused by a mass of solid rock in the way. The inside of the bend was a gravel bed of small rocks and coarse sand. A tangled pile of sticks, branches, and trees washed down the stream when the water was much higher dried in the sun.

  A fire built down in the gully on the sandbar would have the high stream walls to protect it from the sight of anyone beyond a few steps. The bend in the stream protected it from being seen in the other two directions. Gareth’s eyes went to the cloudless sky and then to the mountains. A storm up there would send water rushing down. The exposed roots on the banks, the height of the banks, and the pile of brush at the bend testified to the raging water that had flowed recently.

  But there were no clouds and he judged the chances of rain small. If the first drops fell, he decided they would rush to higher ground. Some risks conflicted with others, but the night chill in the mountains required more blankets than they carried. He nodded to Ann, not bothering to waste his words on repeating his thoughts. She was a woodsman and had probably come to the same conclusions long before him.

  They scooted down a caved-in portion of the bank and w
alked to the sandbar. Tad gathered firewood without being asked or told, which pleased Gareth more than the boy would know. The other child sat, his face slack and eyes half-closed. Ann convinced him to swallow more of her medication, but only a little at Gareth’s insistence.

  The wood in the logjam was dry. It burned almost smokeless. They carried dried berries, seeds, oats, and nuts in small sacks in their bags, but a meal sounded better. Gareth mentioned it, and Ann nodded her agreement.

  He said, “If you watch the boys, I am going to seek out what I can find.”

  “Meaning you’re going to touch that evil mind and steal information? You be careful it does not destroy your mind.”

  “I’ll be careful.” He spread his blanket and laid on his back in the shade. Sunburn was not likely, but possible. His mind continued to suppress the thoughts of both boys, preventing them from being heard by any outsiders. As another precaution, he also increased the mental state to include preventing outside thoughts from reaching the boys.

  For Ann he did nothing. Both she and he would consider it an invasion. But he did monitor outside thoughts with the idea of shutting them down if needed, especially if they were an attack. A glance at Ann revealed she and Tad were at the edge of the water pulling some sort of wild leek or onion. She also carried a leather purse containing her hand lines, hooks, and artificial baits for fishing.

  As was his custom, Gareth reached out to Blackie first. The dragon was spitting out the antlers of his second deer of the day. Antlers were not like bones, which were generally chewed and ground to nothing in his gullet. Antlers were pointed and often stuck in gums or the tongue if not spit out. Blackie’s eating habits were best left to the beast, so Gareth let the dragon know he’d been there and left.

  First, on the list, was to simply lay back and listen. Let the general din of a thousand voices wash over him until he had an impression of the world. If a volcano erupted or a storm struck, he’d hear the panic and fear. But he didn’t.