by LeRoy Clary
Quint said as he placed his bare feet on one boulder after another, “Okay with you if I thank you at the far end, supposing there is one?”
“That will do fine,” Ander said, scrambling behind to keep up.
The going was slow. Often they crawled, using their hands and feet at the same time. Even following the path, rocks and boulders shifted when weight was placed on them, and they created several small rock slides as they moved. Often they didn’t dare walk upright. One slip and a leg would be broken, or worse, they would slide down the hillside with a landslide of rock.
When Raymer couldn’t catch his breath anymore, he turned and sat on a rock to rest, his staff balanced across his knees. The others sat near him. He expected to hear more banter, but none came. A glance at their tired, haggard faces told him they were as tired as he was.
He glanced at the sun again. It was creeping down at an alarming pace. Once it dipped beyond the far peaks ahead, it would be too dark to navigate the talus. He couldn’t imagine spending a night where they were.
Raymer stood. “Come on, we have to get across this before dark.”
As if to emphasize his words, above them a boulder as large as a man shifted and began to tumble down. As it struck, more rocks shifted, and a whole section slid as if it was an avalanche of snow in winter. The sound of the shifting and falling rocks chilled Raymer.
Even after the main portion had ceased to slide, other rocks dislodged by the slide let loose and rolled, their sounds like a blacksmith using a small hammer. Raymer gave a mental shrug and crabbed across a particularly ugly stretch. He tried keeping three points of contact, as someone had told him to do a long time ago. The staff was often helpful to maintain balance, sometimes a hindrance, but he never thought of leaving it.
Two feet and hand, two hands, and foot, or any combination. As long as only one slipped, or one rock twisted out from under him, he had two more points to keep him from falling. He pushed his staff ahead, then repeated the movements. After a time, he realized he had moved far ahead of Quint, and Ander was out of sight.
He called, “You doing all right?”
“My feet are bleeding.”
“Can you see Ander?”
“He’d right behind this bend. He’ll be here shortly.”
“Anything I can do for your feet?”
Quint shrugged, “Just get me across this before the sun goes down.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stop and wrap your feet in strips from uniforms?” Raymer asked.
“On this surface, I rather have bare feet. I don’t want to slip.”
Raymer glanced up again and realized he couldn’t make the promise of reaching the end of the scree field before dark. Instead, of the path continuing to cross the talus, it began angling down. He followed it with his eyes and saw it curled lower until it met a line of trees.
“How much is it worth to you if I get you there before dark? A large silver?” he called.
“Two,” Quint called back, his face red and his breath coming in pants.
Quint couldn’t see where the path was heading. Ander was just coming into sight behind him. The sun touched the mountain peaks. He’d reach the bottom of the path before dark, but they might not.
“The end is right up ahead. Either go faster or spend the night up here,” he called.
Raymer found that going down the jumble of rocks was far easier and faster. He scrambled down with the idea he might find the materials for a torch and help the others. But he hadn’t counted on the determination of them. As he reached to level ground at the edge of a forest, he heard a shout behind and looked up to see Quint’s fist raised in a victory salute.
A trail through the forest picked up at the end of the path at the edge of the talus, and he moved along it until he found a wide, shallow stream. At the edge was a meadow, complete with rocks rimming a fire pit. A small lean-to contained neatly stacked firewood and kindling.
Raymer used the flint and steel in his new purse to spark dry leaves and twigs alive, and as Quint entered the clearing, the fire took hold.
“Well, I see you’re making yourself comfortable,” he said, limping to the fire, then on to the stream where he stood in the water ankle deep.
Raymer had seen the bloody feet. He won’t stop. Quint would continue until he dropped and then he’d crawl. Raymer decided to use his new shirt to make strips and wrap Quint’s feet to walk in tomorrow.
Ander entered the clearing looking as bad as Raymer felt. His shoulders slumped, his mouth hung open, and he also limped.
Ander noticed Raymer looking at him and said in a husky voice, “Remind me to never go on vacation with you again.”
“This is good for you,” Raymer shot back while adding more wood to the fire and warming his hands.
Ander fell to the ground beside him. “Know what? I think you’re right. Mentally and physically I’ve never felt like this, and as soon as I heal, I’ll be proud of what we’re doing. Something to tell my grandchildren about.”
Raymer unrolled his new blanket and spread it on the soft grass. He removed the other from his back and wrapped himself in it. The last of the day’s light faded, and they sat in silence, listening to the chuckling stream and the owls.
Quint joined them, spreading his blankets while telling them that for the first time in a year he would have enough to cover his feet and body. Then he said, “Quite the setup here. Fire pit, wood, water. Someone’s made themselves a nice little home. Want an apple?”
Raymer accepted the apple and said, “There are places like this where we camp at home. We leave things for the next time we pass by, or for someone else.”
“You think this was left here by someone from a Dragon Clan?” Ander asked.
“I can’t tell for sure who left this wood here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were part of my clan. I think that boulder-field, we just crossed would turn back normal people, and I suspect the briars and thorns grown at the foot were planted to prevent anyone sane from coming this way. Maybe not,” Raymer said, pulling the blanket closer around himself as the first of the chill mountain air made itself known.
Ander said, “I think you’re right. You don’t keep people out by telling them to stay out. You make it so difficult to get there that they don’t want to try.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Raymer woke first. Dawn was still a while off, but he’d heard something. Instead of opening his eyes or getting up to investigate, he lay still and listened. Quint snored softly on his left, and Ander’s heavy breathing was on his other side. He tried to continue his breathing without a break.
But something had been there. A sound that was out of place. He didn’t hear it now, but he strained to listen as his hand inched closer to his staff.
He stopped moving his hand. His open eyes didn’t see anything, but he dared not turn his head to look around. There were no more nearby forest sounds. He inhaled and smelled a whiff of something else out of place.
It was gone. He slowly drew in a deep breath and searched for it again. There, his nose found and identified it. Garlic!
Someone had eaten food cooked with garlic and was now close enough to him that he could smell it. Nobody can remain quiet forever. Stomachs churn. People swallow or clear their throats. Joints creak or pop.
Behind him. Three, maybe four steps away a foot shifted.
In a single motion, Raymer rolled, threw his blanket into the air behind him where the sound came from. He grabbed his staff and rolled to his knee. The staff was in the first defensive position, ready to block, jab, or strike. His mouth was open to shout a warning to Quint and Ander, but he froze.
The night was empty.
Raymer said, “Wake up. Somebody was here.”
Quint was on his feet before Raymer stopped talking, and Ander soon followed. Quint held the knife, and Ander’s fists were balled, his eyes searching for someone to fight. But there was nobody.
“Where is he?” Quint asked, turning in a ful
l circle.
“I don’t know. I heard a foot shift and smelled garlic.”
Ander sniffed, “Not now.”
“Stay here,” Quint ordered and melted into the darkness.
Raymer moved to Ander. “Place your back to mine.” They watched the darkness while protecting each other.
“Nothing,” Quint said as he returned. “We set a guard for the rest of the night.”
Raymer noticed Quint hadn’t asked foolish questions or doubted his word. He said, “I’ll do it.”
Quint and Ander climbed back into bed and soon the soft sounds of them sleeping drifted on the air. The stream made soft rustling sounds and a coyote howled in the distance. He listened for what should not be heard. No twigs snapped, no clothing brushed against shrubs, and no leaves crunched under feet. Insects buzzed and chirped, frogs croaked. He listened for them to stop, indicating a man passed nearby, but all sounded proper.
Can you smell garlic if you dream? He reviewed what he’d heard, and smelled trying to convince himself he had been mistaken. But it could have been just a sneak thief. Still, why would a thief be out here where there were no people to steal from?
He considered building the fire again for warmth, but doing so would ruin his night vision, and at the same time illuminate him if any watchers lurked in the darkness. They might or might not be out there now, but they had been. At first light, he’d search for signs.
Dawn was closer than expected. Raymer still sat thinking as the sky to the east turned lighter. Vague shapes started to define. A fire would no longer be a disadvantage. A few coals glowed under the ash in the fire pit and a handful of tinder and kindling soon had a fire cheerfully burning.
He turned to look at the two sleeping. Something caught his eye. It was lighter in color and behind them. Before leaping to his feet to investigate, he carefully examined the area and found more. Standing and turning, it appeared a ring of lighter vegetation surrounded them.
Raymer saw no obvious danger, so stepped to the nearest patch and bent to examine it. In the dim morning light, he touched it and pulled his hand away in wonder and confusion. It was just a pile of feathers. Probably chicken feathers. He moved on to examine other locations and found the entire campsite surrounded by a ring of feathers.
Quint came to his side.
“Feathers scattered all around us,” Raymer explained.
“I guess we have two explanations. Either chickens got into a silent fight all around us, or someone placed them there.”
Raymer nodded. “Dragon Clan.”
“You think so?”
“It’s the sort of thing we do to scare people off. We don’t threaten them. It’s easier to let their imaginations run wild.”
Quint stood and stretched. “You’re probably right. If I was normal, which I’m not, this would have me running home with my tail between my legs.”
Ander had sat up and listened. “If it happened to me, I’d run home and tell the biggest lies you ever heard.”
All three laughed. The simple trick would scare most people. Raymer said, “There will be more.”
“They’re probably watching us right now,” Quint said. As the light increased, he moved to follow the trail of feathers, searching for footprints or anything else of interest. As he passed his blanket, he reached for another apple.
Raymer warmed his hands and feet near the fire, lost in thought. His family rarely inflicted any pain on intruders in the Raging Mountains, but if their first attempt to frighten them off didn’t work, there were more options. Most families kept several on hand and ready to scare off intruders. But, not everyone scared off easily, and there had been cases where other measures were taken, even direct conflict.
Ander sat beside him. “What now? Turn back?”
“These are my people.”
“They don’t seem to like you,” he smiled. “Maybe if you climb a tree and shout out to them who you are it will help.”
Raymer nodded and started to gather his things. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I was joking.”
“I’m not.”
Ander waited while stirring the fire and asked, “Is there any danger from them?”
“Probably not. At least not yet. I’m trying to anticipate what they’ll do next. If I can out-think them maybe, I can prevent whatever they have planned for us.”
Quint returned. “Not even a single footprint.”
They gathered their belongings and again Raymer took the lead. From the scant directions, he’d been provided, half a day’s march would take them to a great split in a solid appearing granite cliff. The split was at an angle, so wouldn’t be seen until they were almost upon it.
The split was supposed to be wide enough for five or six to walk abreast, and the bottom was choked with brush and small trees. It was kept that way so that any people finding it, which would be few, would never enter.
His next landmark was again, keeping Bear Mountain on his right and locating the solid cliff directly in front of him. However, he believed he’d encounter the Dragon Clan before intruding much closer. Now that they knew the three were moving directly at their home, he expected more drastic action than scare tactics.
The path wound its way along the stream and finally across. Quint said his feet were better, but he limped and refused to wrap cloths around his feet, saying it would slow him up. The boots Raymer and Ander took from the soldiers helped them, but Raymer felt a blister forming, and since the day was warming and his feet were in good condition, he removed his boots and stored them in his rolled blanket.
“Keep a sharp watch,” he called over his shoulder. “I think they will try to run us off again before mid-morning.”
“Why?” Ander asked.
Raymer said, “Because that’s what I’d do back home.”
The trail they followed twisted up the side of a small mountain. When they reached the crest, they came to a place where they could see over the tops of the trees. Raymer pulled to a stop. To their right was Bear Mountain, tall and half the slopes white with snow. Ahead was yet another shallow valley, and at the far side was a solid granite wall that extended south for as far as Raymer could see.
His next landmark was along that wall somewhere. A half day’s walk. A fair sized river split the valley ahead. From where they stood, Raymer decided they would have to search for a ford, or swim.
He pointed, “Somewhere along that cliff is a crack in the rock that goes off at an angle. You can’t see it until you’re almost on it. Beyond that is our destination.”
Quint said, “So far your information has been exactly right. If we can get through there, we should be on the east side of the mountain, and from there to Northwood should be an easy trek.”
“If the Dragon Clan lets us pass,” Ander said, his eyes shifting around, as he searched for hidden people.
Quint said, “I think I spotted one of them a while ago. Off to our left.”
Raymer turned and handed Quint his blankets along with everything else he carried except for his staff. Then he shucked his shirt.
“Good idea,” Quint said. “Show that ugly thing off.”
Ander said, “I get it. When they see your tattoo, they’ll know we’re friends.”
“They’ll know I’m a friend. You two are still a question,” Raymer said. “This is like getting a door open a crack, but it isn’t letting us in. Not until we do some explaining. When they come at us, drop your weapons. All of them.”
“Before we know what’s happening?” Ander asked.
Quint answered, “Do as he says. Our presence here is a threat to those living up ahead, and if I were in their situation, I’d kill all of us and ask questions at our funeral.”
They descended the slope under the shade of spreading maples and ash, with a few oaks to break up the monotony. As underbrush thinned, they could see quite far in any direction. While turning his head to say something to Quint, Raymer caught his first glimpse of a stranger.
He
said nothing about the sighting, but he did ask Ander to fall a few more steps behind so that anyone out there could plainly see his back. They made it all the way to the river before they rounded a bend in the trail and came face to face with two young, muscular men.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Raymer pulled to an abrupt stop ten paces from the two men and let his staff fall to the ground. He heard Ander and Quint stop, but didn’t bother looking to see what they were doing. He kept his eyes on the others, each holding a staff with one end on the ground in a non-threatening manner. But he had no doubt the situation could change in an instant.
“My name is Raymer. I’m from the Raging Mountains seek refuge with your family.”
The shorter one had shoulders so wide he almost looked fat until the hang of his clothing displayed his waist was so small as to be nonexistent. His biceps bulged, although relaxed as he lightly gripped his staff in fingers like sausages. The taller one, despite his full fleshed beard, shuffled back a small step, deferring to the other.
The shorter one said, “Yet you bring strangers to our home? Is that how it is done in the Raging Mountains?”
Raymer heard the baiting tone. They would not respect weakness. “No. How it is done in my home is that a clan member displays himself before speaking of private things.”
They clearly didn’t like being admonished for something so standard they should have done as soon as one claimed to be of the Dragon Clan. Since Raymer had displayed his back, as a sign of goodwill and identification they should have done the same. They locked eyes. He waited.
Neither Quint nor Ander moved or attempted to speak. Finally, the taller one spun and lifted the rear of his shirt to his shoulders. A red dragon writhed there, so finely made and so lifelike, it appeared to crouch in preparation to strike.
The shorter one hesitated and slowly turned in a surly manner, his lip curled in anger. He raised his shirt part of the way and dropped it.
Raymer could have allowed the action to pass, but chose not to. He took two steps closer and said in a soft but clear voice, “Am I being insulted?”
