by LeRoy Clary
“You insult me by bringing strangers here.”
Raymer stooped and grasped his staff without taking his eyes off the man. He shifted his grip on his staff, bringing it to the defensive position. “I will explain my actions to your clan leader . . . or your father.”
The taller one said, “He’s right Dakar, he asked for refuge. Our laws don’t give you the right to refuse.”
“Shut up.”
The taller one stepped in front of the one called Dakar and allowed his staff to fall to the ground in a proper display of deference. He said, “Forgive our manners, Raymer of the Raging Mountains. My name is Meryn, and I greet you with open hands.”
Raymer let his staff fall back to the ground and repeated the traditional greeting, his eyes on Meryn as if Dakar didn’t exist.
Marian said, “The strangers you brought with you are not supposed to learn about our village. They already know too much, as you well know.”
“In normal times you are correct. In these times, I will call for a clan meeting and leave their lives in the hands of the elders.”
Quint shuffled, but when Raymer cast him a warning glance, he stilled.
Meryn didn’t miss any of the byplay. “No weapons.”
Quint smirked, as he handed Dakar his staff and knife. “Well, if you boys insist on giving us a hand, can you carry our blankets and packs too. Thanks for helping.”
Meryn asked, “Is he always like this?”
“Worse,” Raymer smiled. “To know him is to laugh.”
Dakar said, “I don’t think so. Big men always think they’re tough until I’m done with them.”
Quint stepped forward and with each step he appeared larger because of the size difference. The short one called Dakar had large biceps, but as Quint stood in front of him, he looked like a deformed dwarf. Quint said, “In my home we have traditions of wrestling and fencing. Would you happen to have anything similar?”
Ander caught Dakar’s eye. “Don’t do it, my new friend.”
That gave Dakar an out. “I’m not your friend.”
Meryn said to Raymer, “We’ll show you the way since you requested refuge, but your friends will face whatever fate the elders decide. You should have left them behind.”
Raymer nodded. “We’ll speak to them at the council. Please lead on. Will the other two who are still hiding out in the forest go before or after us?”
“How did you spot them?” Meryn asked.
“The clan always travels in pairs for safety. You two are one pair.”
Dakar snarled, “We do not travel in quads. How do you know there are more? How did they reveal themselves so they do not do the same again?”
Raymer shrugged, “When you brought the feathers to scare us last night one of you had eaten garlic, and I smelled it. It was neither of you, so there must be another pair.”
Dakar spat, “Shensi. He’s always eating garlic or onions.”
“This time, it told me all I needed to know. By the way, I really like your feather idea. It lets a man’s mind fill in all sorts of terrible things. Such a simple thing, but I’ll bet most run home to safety, never to return.”
Meryn said, “Since my men saw us greet each other as family, they’ll run to our village, and you will be expected. All of you.”
They gathered their few things. Raymer asked, “Will we be there before dark? We have important business.”
“Long before dark,” Dakar muttered, his disposition is not improving. “You may find yourself dead before dark.”
Meryn looked at Raymer and said, “We all have our burdens, but I suspect mine is easier than putting up with his poor attempts at humor.”
“Sometimes I laugh with him,” Raymer said.
The path they followed went up the river bank until the river widened between two sandbanks at a wide bend. Rocks littered the sides and bottom, but the current appeared sluggish, and as they crossed, no one got their knees wet. The path continued, rising as they moved, always in the direction of the solid gray cliffs.
Dakar took the rear which was fine with everyone. Twice Raymer looked back to see him struggling with three extra staffs to carry, but never offered to help him. There was almost no talking.
After passing two more streams and countless hills, dips, and one flat valley, Raymer noticed the face of the cliff they approached had a distinct place where the color of the rock didn’t precisely match. He kept his eye on it. As they continued, the mark grew more defined, if only because he knew to look for it.
Quint said, “One of you little people wouldn’t happen to have a pair of sandals or shoes that would fit me, would you?”
Raymer had taken notice of his feet before they left their campsite. Each had several scrapes and cuts, and his left had a raw scrape that probably came from slipping while crossing the talus. If Quint complained, even as little his question indicated, he must be in pain.
“Just a little further,” Raymer said.
“How do you know how far it is?” Dakar snarled.
Raymer turned to face him as he struggled to carry his load. He smiled and shrugged, then said in a jolly voice, “You look old enough to seek out other families. You might try mine. And on the way there you can stop at the king’s summer palace. You might enjoy staying in my old room. Just ask anyone for directions to the palace, and I’m sure they’d be glad to show you the way.”
Ander and Quint broke into laughter while the other two just looked and wondered at the joke they missed.
Dakar said defiantly, “I just might do that.”
Now all three laughed, and as they continued the trek now and then one or the other added to the humor. The distance and time passed faster with their minds occupied.
The next time Raymer looked up to the cliffs they were much closer, and again, knowing what to look for, he spotted the actual split in the wall that they would traverse.
Reaching the entrance seemed anticlimactic. The path turned slightly and almost without warning they walked between two high walls, taller than the highest trees. The floor of the split was soft sand, and a thousand plants grew there, especially where the split began. Raymer realized many of the plants were probably moved there to conceal the entrance from an accidental discovery. Looking ahead, Raymer estimated the passage must be at least a thousand paces long.
His heart beat faster and his breath came in shallow pants, not because of the altitude, but because he neared the destination that had been his goal over a year ago. A thousand steps. Nine hundred. Eight.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Not long after, the trees and undergrowth thinned and they stood in a meadow facing perhaps twenty people he’d never seen. There were goats, dogs, men, women, and children. Everyone stood quietly and looked at them as if they were strange animals from a far land. Perhaps they were.
They looked like ordinary people, but Raymer knew different. He pulled to a stop at a respectable distance and waited.
Meryn stepped beside him and said in a strong, firm voice, “I bring a member of our clan seeking refuge. His name is Raymer, from the family at the Raging Mountains.”
A single older man stepped forward. “I am Myron, Meryn’s father and the leader of this family. Will you present to me your back?”
Without hesitation, Raymer turned and lifted his tattered and too-small shirt. He waited until all in the group saw his dragon, then he faced them again. Myron turned and raised his shirt. He said, “Ordinarily, this is the time I’d invite you to eat with us and welcome you. However, times are different, and I understand you wish to stand in front of the elders with your companions as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You do not wish to eat first or have someone care for the bleeding feet of the giant?”
“When is the earliest we can meet in council?” Raymer asked.
Myron glanced nervously at those standing behind him as if mentally counting and making a difficult decision. “Is now too soon?”
Raymer said, “That would be best. I think you’ll agree when you hear us.”
Myron motioned for them to walk down a dirt road that led between about twenty huts, ten on a side. A few dogs ran to investigate the new smells. A fast flowing stream cut the village in half and there at the stream was a semi-circle of seating on stumps and logs that had been placed there for seating, leaving a raised dais in the center. It served as a stage or podium for the village.
Myron stepped up on it, raising his hands to the crowd that followed. “We have an unusual situation. Our family member has brought two outsiders with him. He wishes to speak with the elders and we will grant his request. I will have the elders gather here, along with Camilla and Robin. We require privacy.”
Dakar stepped forward and dumped their belongings into the dirt, along with their staffs. He said, “I will remain standing guard.”
Myron quelled a twitch of a smile. “They come in peace, Dakar. We will not require a guard, but I thank you for your intended service.”
As the crowd dissipated, three men arrived together. One limped on a crutch, another looked too old to walk, but managed slowly, and the last was a powerful man of about fifty years, a warrior, by the way, he carried himself. A woman of middle age walked down the slope, a girl in her early teens beside her.
Myron motioned for the elders and the two women to sit on the stumps nearest the dais, then he pointed at Raymer, Ander, and Quint. “You three up on the stage where we can see and hear you.”
When everyone was in place, Myron said, “You have asked for this council meeting. There are a few things we need to understand between us. Outsiders cannot leave, nor can they live here in ordinary circumstances, however, in recent years, we have waived, or relaxed that rule. It would take but one traitor to bring down the king’s wrath on this village.”
He looked at each of them as he spoke, but as if sensing the impending danger, or maybe just wanting to find the reason for the council, he spoke rapidly. With a wave of his arm, he said, “These men are the elders you face and who will judge you. Camilla, the girl, is new to us, but she lived with outsiders her whole life and may hold some insight to your words, so she is here. Robin is the woman I spoke of earlier. She is only the second outsider to ever be welcomed into the Dragon Clan to my knowledge.”
Raymer didn’t feel as confident as he expected. The men looked hard but honest, the girl held a stern expression, and the woman appeared as if she didn’t like them at all. He understood. The three of them were a threat, even though they didn’t intend to harm the village. Their very presence was a danger, and all wanted to hear the extraordinary circumstances of the council.
Myron continued, looking directly at Raymer as if he stood alone. “You have a story to tell.”
Where to begin? He looked at Quint and pointed. “This man is of royalty in the Northwood kingdom. A year ago, he carried a treaty to King Ember, but was thrown into the dungeons and betrayed. The King has now assembled his troops and is moving them to the Northwood Kingdom border for a sneak attack.”
Myron asked, “What do we care of the wars of others?”
“You care for these reasons. Innocent people are going to die. A lot of them. And if King Ember wins this war, he controls all the lands surrounding your homes. All of it. There will be a thousand soldiers at your doorsteps, and they will locate you.”
A few exchanged glances, but nobody spoke, and Raymer felt he hadn’t convinced them of anything. “Quint here is my friend and a member of a powerful family. He is of the Earl’s family. If this invasion is defeated because of what happens here this day, the King will have fewer men to hunt us down, and we will have someone with great power who can help us.”
Robin said, “The deal you offer is that we help this man by warning Northwood, and he may help us sometime in the future. That is, if he remembers us, or does not use his own soldiers to slay us.”
Raymer said quickly, “At the very least, we prevent King Ember from becoming more powerful and surrounding your village.”
The man who used a crutch asked, “Who is the other man with you?”
Raymer felt his heart sink. He drew in a breath while trying to think of the right words.
Before he could speak, Ander stood, chin held high. “I was the Dungeon Master at the Summer Palace for King Ember, recently appointed to keep these two in my dungeon until the end of time.”
Ander sat without another word.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Myron said.
Raymer shrugged. “There is much more to the story, but we don’t have time. Right now, we just wish passage to Northwood and a fast route to take. We are trying to save lives, and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, if the King wins this war your whole village is in the middle of people trying to please a King who is paranoid about the Dragon Clan.”
“We can leave . . .” the warrior said.
“No, you can’t. There isn’t time. Defeating this invasion will protect this village and give you future options, ” Raymer said.
The young girl stood and said, “You are asking us to take risks for things I do not understand. What I do understand is that you came here and gave yourselves up to us so you can help others. But didn’t that put us at risk?”
The other woman said, “Why did you come here? Travel north of Bear Mountain has many roads and ways to travel quickly.”
The man with the crutch raised it and pointed it at Quint. “The Earl is named Brant. He is a large man, almost as large as you. Are you the son of Brant?”
“I am.”
“I met him once, long ago. He was a fair man. A farmer’s barn had burned along with his animals and tools. The Earl relieved him of the taxes he owed, and ordered a new barn to be erected. He also gave him two mules and said he’d be collect the taxes the following year.”
The warrior said with a sneer in his voice, “So he did a good deed. He’s rich.”
The man with the crutch said, “The King demands his taxes every year. Who do you think paid that farmer’s taxes?”
Robin said, “What does it matter?”
The man with the crutch stuck out his lower lip before saying, “It matters because it tells of the kind of man he is. Quint, are you the same?”
“Sir, I wish I could say yes, but who knows?”
Myron said, taking control of the meeting again, “If you had said yes, I’d not believe you. Actions tell of a man, not brags. Is there more we need to hear?”
Ander stood. “Here is a possible answer. Have Quint write a message to his family so they can mass troops and protect their homeland. One of your people can deliver the message. Kill us to protect yourselves and your families from our betrayal.”
“Hey,” Raymer said. “That’s not a deal I agreed to.”
Someone laughed, but without humor.
Ander stood firm. “Think about it. My plan solves all the problems.”
Quint said, “Shut up, Ander. Sit down and behave yourself.”
“He has a point,” the girl called Camilla said. “If we are surrounded by the King we have no way to escape. He will discover information about our village at some time, and we all know that will happen one day. That is why we have daily patrols to keep people away. To keep our village safe.”
The warrior said, “I vote to kill them.”
Myron held up a hand. “Enough. Unlike most, this decision is time-related. More discussion may allow the events to play out, which is a decision in itself.”
When a few people started speaking at the same time, Myron stood and held up both arms, his face stern. “Quiet! I have decided. We will assist these men on their mission.”
A stunned silence followed.
Myron pointed to the warrior. “Dancer, three horses, and supplies as fast as you can.”
The man clearly had been against them, and Raymer expected him to object, or show his displeasure in some method. Instead, he leaped to his feet and raced down the meadow in the direction of pa
sture, calling to others to join him in his task. Raymer felt a stab of pride. The man’s actions were the very essence of the Dragon Clan’s ideals.
Myron turned to speak to Raymer again, “This was difficult, but you must understand my reasoning. I looked not at how this affects us today, but in the future. Allowing you to continue your quest may let my family exist here. Preventing you may end our lives.”
Raymer said, “You haven’t mentioned the danger of either of these two revealing your location in the future.”
“Times change. We have recently allowed Robin to live with us in defiance of our traditions. There is also a boy we took in. We adapt or die.”
Camilla asked Raymer, “Have you ever called down a dragon?”
“I have asked for one to turn while flying. It did. I tested it more times and each time it hesitated but did as I asked,” Raymer said.
She nodded and looked to Myron. “We have those born with the mark but for one reason or another are not what we consider good or honorable. Dragons do not obey them, I hear.”
Robin said, “Tell us about how you escaped the dungeons and why is a Dungeon Master with you. Do it quickly, before you leave.”
Raymer said quickly, “The Dungeon Master is a good man. Too good for the position he was appointed to. Our escape is a mystery I hoped you could explain. My plan was to call down a dragon to spit on the iron bars and use the lime in the mortar to allow us to escape. Before I could put my plan into action, a dragon attacked the Summer Palace and used its body to shove the wall until it caved in.”
All exchanged looks. Clearly none had further information, but it concerned them all. Robin asked, “Was there more?”
Raymer shrugged, then decided to tell about the apples and carrots. He watched their faces closely, finding only interest.
The man with the crutch asked, “Could it have been your family in the Raging Mountains who helped?”
“No. I mean it could have been, but they would have done it differently. The boy or girl who delivered the apples would have allowed me to see them. Just long enough to recognize and I’d know they were there to help and prepare myself. I also believe they would have placed people, or maybe a horse, outside the palace gate to help me get away.”
