Dragon!: Book Two: Revenge

by LeRoy Clary

  *Gareth, we should talk.*

  His first impulse was to shut down the communication. Instead, he said in his most reasonable and nonjudgmental tone, “What subject would that be?”

  *The future. OUR future.*

  Belcher had changed his usual tone to one oily and slick, his thoughts overly sweet and indicating unstated promises and close friendships. It was a new tactic. Again, Gareth compared it to a child offering another child false friendship if they could share a sweet. He almost expected Belcher to offer a life-long friendship. But all the same, Belcher was talking, and maybe Gareth could learn something useful. He held up his index finger and let it remain in the air, telling Tad and Ann he needed quiet while he talked.

  “What do you think the future might be?” Gareth kept his tone civil.

  *You and me. We rule like kings. Equals.*

  “What do you mean, we ‘rule’? Explain that to me, please.”

  There was a pause as if Belcher was trying to think of an answer Gareth might like in advance of speaking. *Equals. Like partners.*

  “I get that part. What about ‘ruling’?”

  *We live in a big castle and when we want something people will bring it to us.*

  The response revealed far more information than Gareth expected. Belcher did not understand what ruling meant in the sense of a leader. There were times when the King had the most difficult job in the kingdom and worked the hardest for his people. Belcher’s answer revealed that he understood none of that. It also revealed he knew nothing of caring for those he ruled. It was all about Belcher and his comfort, and if he thought he could convince Gareth that they would share equally in their rule, he was mistaken. At the first disagreement, or before, Belcher would try to kill him. It was as simple as that.

  But there was no sense in making the boy angrier—at least not without a purpose. Gareth said, “Listen, I’ll consider your kind offer, but right now I have to do some things.”

  He didn’t wait for Belcher to agree or not, Gareth cut the connection and closed it down. Tad was watching him intently, and he realized he still held his finger in the air. “Sorry, I was talking.”

  “I know. I heard.”

  That was again unexpected. Gareth flinched and decided he had to learn to be more aware of Tad. This was the fifth or sixth time Tad had heard what he should not have. “All of it?”

  “Yes. Did you feel the other boy?”

  Hesitating, Gareth shook his head. There had only been Belcher speaking.

  “The boy Belcher used to make his voice stronger so it would go over the mountains. You could hear sort of an echo when he spoke. It was there all the time. I could feel him hurting but not talking. I think Belcher was hurting him.”

  “Hurting him, how?”

  “I don’t know. He wanted to cry but was scared Belcher would not like that. He was trying hard not to cry.”

  Gareth said, “You got all that during our conversation?”

  “You were listening to the words. I heard it all. I don’t know how to say it.”

  Ann stepped closer. “I know how to say it. We’re all tired. We eat and then we sleep beside a warm fire. All of us needs to watch the fire tonight because building one in the morning with wet wood will be impossible.”

  Gareth was about to protest and tell her he knew as much about keeping a fire going as she when he realized that although she looked at him, she was speaking to Tad. A clever way of teaching. As usual, he was impressed with the woman. No, not as usual. He couldn’t think of a time when he had not been impressed with her.

  “I’ll try to wake up and watch it,” Gareth said. “Each time I roll over or hear a strange animal I’ll toss a few pieces of wood on the fire.”

  “Me too,” Tad agreed.

  The sun was setting and the fire now burning cheerfully. They huddled close, and Tad began asking questions about the stars. Where are they in the day, is the moon a bigger star, and what are they made of? One question after another, most of which Gareth couldn’t answer. In the middle of the one-sided conversation, Blackie reached out to comfort himself with a last touch of Gareth’s mind before it went to sleep.

  Tad said in response, “Goodnight, Blackie.”

  Blackie seemed to accept the communication as normal, almost as if the two communicated more often, and Gareth realized maybe they did. The dragon and his grandson accepted their communication in ways he didn’t yet understand, despite his age. How long had that been going on? It appeared the relationship was not recent, yet he’d had no idea.

  After Tad had fallen asleep, Gareth lay awake lost in deep thought. Tad was far more special than he’d known, and his potential was unlimited. If Belcher became aware of Tad, he would be jealous and vengeful, if not outright fearful. Gareth had to keep the boy a secret from him.

  “Are you awake?”

  Ann’s question surprised him. “Yes.”

  “Can you sense Tad and assure he’s asleep?”

  “He is.”

  Her voice was low and soft, coming from the shadows under a tree on the other side of the fire. She said, “You’re worried. I can’t even comprehend all that must be on your mind, but you have to control yourself with the boy. He takes on your worries and problems as if they are his own. When the two of us were talking . . . Well, it was like talking directly to you.”

  “I haven’t tried to influence him, other than what a grandfather should.”

  “Not on purpose, but I suspect he’s in your mind more than you realize. Correct me if you wish, but Tad’s more powerful than you were at his age.”

  Gareth had decided when they started this journey together that he either had to trust her or leave her behind. Trusting her meant few secrets, and those he shared would remain between them. Since she had no immediate family, he had also decided to speak to Sara about Ann living with the family after this was all over. She was a good woman, and her presence would enhance their family no matter where they chose to live after the emergency.

  Emergency. The word had sprung into his mind. He’d never thought of it as an emergency, but in truth it was. Belcher changed everything, and now Tad was threatening to do the same. He looked up at the stars as he laid on his back and thought, but Ann required an answer.

  “At his age, I was barely aware of my powers. However, I was restricted to a small village high in the mountains. I suspect many of my powers were restricted by the mountains, although I’ve never thought of it before now. The Brotherhood knew, I’m sure.”

  “So his powers may be because he is allowed to use them instead of being held back.”

  “Yes, I think you’re right. Even at his age he has more developed abilities than me. He seems to have ‘listening’ abilities far beyond mine, as well as a better fundamental understanding. Did you know he talks to Blackie?”

  “I thought only you could do that.”

  “Me too. I just found out tonight when they said good-night to each other.”

  “Nobody else can talk to your dragon?”

  “Maybe since they lived together on Bitters Island and Blackie was aware of him since birth they developed a relationship. I don’t know. Maybe because he is my grandson he shares some common mental links. Words are failing me.”

  “I think I understand.”

  Gareth took the time to watch the sky as a streak of white drew his attention. He muttered the required prayer for the fallen without conscious thought. He didn’t really believe a brave warrior had just died, but the action reminded him of those who had passed in his life, which brought him back to thinking about his father and Ramos. A change of subject was needed.

  “I have a question for you. I have seen almost no vermin or insects on our trip. Not a single mosquito bite.”

  “That is a statement, not a question. But you’re right. I am so used to running them off that I don’t even think about it anymore. Is that a problem for you?”

  “Only if you cannot teach me to do it. I’ve known about it for years,
but never tried to learn.”

  Ann shrugged, “I cannot do what you do. You cannot do what I can with animals.”

  “I talk to Blackie.”

  “You’re bonded. He imprinted on you when he hatched. You cannot speak to, or influence, other animals, like the rats and bats at the ship.”

  “It is a handy ability.”

  “More so for farmers, who most of the Sisterhood is married to. We’re valuable on a farm, although many of the men think they are great at what they do and never realize it is their wives who are making the animals graze in the right pastures.”

  Gareth said, “They live their whole lives a lie?”

  “We do not consider it a lie to help our spouse as he tries to provide for the family. The man is out in the wet, cold, heat and dealing with unruly oxen and sheep that wander away. Sisters provide assistance, the same as if they cook a nice meal that their husband and family enjoys. Does she have to share her recipes with him? We are also good hunters. We consider it part of the marriage.”

  While thinking about her explanation he dozed. Waking later, he found the fire low and tossed on smaller sticks to catch first, then larger. In the light of the expanding flames, he noticed the glint in Ann’s eyes as she watched him. He ignored her and went back to his blankets while wondering if he had awoken her or if she was lying awake all night.

  He was not the only one worried at what the next day would bring. With all that dwelled on his mind he fell asleep again, this time not waking until dawn. Ann was already feeding the fire and Tad was still sleeping soundly.

  “Good morning,” she said softly. “This is the day we get answers, and I’m excited and scared at the same time.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Gareth stood, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders, ready to greet the day. Ann was right. Today they might find answers to the hundreds of questions that forced them to cross the mountains. Suddenly he was not hungry. A sour taste filled his mouth as he remembered the old adage about getting what you wish for. The idea was central to dozens of folktales and children’s stories, but nonetheless, the truths were bound in each tale and story.

  Tad woke with a start. He sat and looked around as if confused, fear evident in his expression, his eyes wide. “He touched me.”

  Gareth dropped the blanket, and his hand went to the blade at his waist as he searched the area. “Who?”

  “Belcher.”

  Gareth swiveled and faced Tad. It only took an instant to find his umbrella of protection was in place and secure. “Tell me about it.”

  “I was asleep when he found me. He laughed and was gone.”

  “How do you know it was him?”

  Tad cast the look children give adults when asking silly questions. “Because I’ve heard him when he talks to you.”

  Ann’s hands were held to her mouth in fear, but she said nothing. Her eyes darted from Tad to Gareth and back again.

  Gareth said, “He laughed? That’s all?”

  “It was the way he laughed. Mean. Like he knows a secret that’s going to hurt and won’t tell me.”

  The explanation sounded as precise as if Tad was an adult speaking to equals. The change took Gareth by surprise, as had most of the knowledge learned about Tad on the trip. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the boy was twice his age. The idea gave Gareth pause, but the fear of Belcher now increased. If Tad was right, Belcher knew of him.

  Ann said, “We don’t know where we’re going or what we’ll find, but we need to go if we want to get it done today.”

  To her surprise, Gareth hesitated. He both feared and wished to learn what lay ahead. They gathered their few belongings and were soon walking again, Tad not only kept up but rushed ahead. The snow diminished, and green sprouts spread leaves. The ground felt soft from the retained water but firm enough to offer a firm grip to their feet.

  Gareth followed the other two as if by trailing them he could protect them from an attack from the rear. His mind was cold, reviewing each fact he knew about Belcher and searching for a way to exploit it. At the very least, how to protect Tad.

  Tad set a pace fast enough for him and Ann to stretch their strides to keep even. Gareth kept them shielded from Belcher but suspected that now that Belcher knew of Tad he would try contacting him again. Belcher should not have been able to learn of Tad, let alone contact him, and Gareth withheld that information until he could determine what had happened.

  “Are you listening to me?” Gareth asked Tad.

  “I can’t help it,” Tad said as he swung a branch in front of him pretending is was a sword but not listening.

  Gareth could lock him out completely, but then he wouldn’t be able to provide his protection. As his father had once told him, you cannot both look up and down at the same time. Your mind is only capable of so much.

  The saying from his father caused Gareth to think of the body of Cinder rotting in that clearing. No, after Blackie had coated him with acid the body would break down very fast, bones and all, not rotting, but disintegrating. Within hours he suspected, there was little left, nothing recognizable, although neither Blackie nor Gareth wished to check on it.

  After a day of rain or two, the great dragon would be returned to basic elements the same as all that dies no matter how hard they fight against it. Soon, those same elements would feed the grass, trees, and all that grazed upon them. An apple growing from that ground would have some of the elements of Cinder in it. The thought was not morbid for Gareth, but almost pleasing. Cinder would like knowing his dead body helped others as it grew fruit.

  Gareth caught Tad’s laugh even as he chuckled to himself. No, Cinder wouldn’t like it because Cinder had a brain the size of a cow, only using it more for flying. The small portion of the dragon mind dedicated to thinking was probably smaller than that of a squirrel. Dragons felt, reacted, and acted on outside stimulus. Treating them like intelligent beings was wrong, no matter how much he felt attached to the beast.

  Tad said, “If Blackie died you’d feel sad.”

  “But if I died, would Blackie feel sad?”

  Tad poked his stick at a tree beside the road as if it was fighting back and shouted, “Take that!” Then he turned and said, “I think so. Maybe lonely.”

  The insight tended to make Gareth feel better, even if he disagreed with it. They walked in silence along the trail that would take them back over the pass. While no larger or wider, the ground was less steep and as the vegetation changed it did not become the familiar lush green of the other side of the mountains. Instead, the trees thinned and were almost all pine, tall and straight.

  Dryness in the air made itself known as their sinuses reacted to the heat and to unfamiliar pollens. The grass under the pines had turned brown indicating the lack of rain. Each of them sneezed more than once.

  But the day had turned warm, the sun bright, and the sky a shade of blue Gareth had never seen. He considered having Blackie fly high overhead so he could watch through the dragon’s eyes, but held off for selfish reasons. He enjoyed the discovery of a new land, one that grew different plants. Each twist and turn of the trail revealed a newness that held his interest.

  When they came to a stream Ann knelt and drank, saying, “We should all fill up on water. This is the first stream since we broke camp. No telling when we reach the next one.”

  Gareth was used to an abundance of streams and rivers. Even Bitters Island had a small river beside their settlement. The remembrance of the peaceful life there tainted his mind. Being forced to leave there was another reason to hunt down Belcher. His whole family had been affected and were now in a temporary home.

  But again, it was Ramos that made him most angry when he thought of Belcher. Belcher had tried to make Ramos walk off a cliff to die because he “liked” Gareth. Then Belcher had made him freeze to death. Belcher had no regrets, no conscious. No feelings of others. Everything that happened was only about Belcher, in his warped mind.

  Others. That single word
brought to the forefront of his thinking the fact that there were only ten others ahead that he could sense. Gareth admitted to himself he didn’t use Blackie because of fear of what he would find. As long as they walked along the path, almost as a happy family on an outing, he didn’t have to face the probable scene ahead.

  Images of deserted cities, whole towns and villages burned and destroyed leaped to mind. Gareth tried to shut out the images of raven pecking at the bones of the dead, wild dogs tearing apart corpses, and the stench of death.

  He didn’t bother asking himself if Belcher was capable of such mass destruction. A single touch of Belcher’s mind told it was not only capable of such things but in his perverse way, Belcher could enjoy them. When he ran out of targets for his insanity, he would seek other victims, and he’d found them in Gareth’s homeland.

  Ann said, “I feel like walking on ahead so I don’t do something to rouse you.”

  Gareth flashed her a confused glance.

  “Your face. I see hate, and it is ugly.”

  Tad said, “That’s because he’s mad at Belcher.”

  Again Tad had been listening again, without any awareness by Gareth. Would there be no privacy for him? Ever?

  Tad spoke again, “If you feel for me, you can tell when I hear you. You can also tell me not to listen and I won’t.”

  “Feel you?”

  “Here, let me show you.”

  Gareth felt a slight tickle in his mind. Not the kind to make him laugh, but a tiny tingle or tickle well in the background of his mind.

  “That’s me,” Tad said. “I’m making it stronger so you know me.”

  “Can you go back to regular listening without making it stronger?” The ticklish tingle instantly diminished but was still present now that he knew what to look for. “Now, stop listening to my mind.”

  The sensation disappeared. They walked a few more steps while Gareth tried to sort out the idea that Tad was teaching him instead of the other way around.