by LeRoy Clary
Tanner relaxed for the first time in days. Rescuing Devlin had been one of the bright spots on the venture. Neither doubted his honesty or dedication to them. The information he carried might prevent, or win a war. But they would not handicap him by telling him that. They would stress the importance, and both believed he would either deliver the papers or die in the attempt. What more could they ask?
The dark cabin became Tanner’s dwelling for two full days as he penned the letter in tiny, neat block letters on both sides of the paper. He told the entire story, from the first of the trip to all they had found and suspected. He suggested sending the same information to all families, but also to King Ember, and copies to the Earl of Princeton, and the Earl of Castle Warrington. Both were old friends and supporters of the Dragon Clan.
Tanner completed the letter on the eve of the second day, sealed all five pages with wax, and inserted it into a waterproof pouch that fit on a thin belt worn around the waist. The Captain had been more than helpful in providing the writing materials, the pouch, and promising to hold it for Devlin. He also vowed to hold a position open on the crew for him—in fact, he insisted on it. Devlin had become one of the hardest working sailors on the ship.
The night flights over Breslau City revealed little new information. However, while resting on a craggy cliff above the head of the small river that flowed through the city, several green dragons were seen overhead. They seemed to be patrolling as they circled the city time after time. They often flew out to sea, which worried all, but it also warned the Captain to sail far from land instead of staying just over the horizon, as had been the original plan.
Then came five days of waiting and sailing. Five long, miserable, hot, days. It seemed the closer they sailed to Breslau the hotter it became. The sweat evaporated from their skin before it could make them wet. The weathered skin of many sailors turned pink, some even a fearsome red. It was as if the sun in Breslau shined down brighter.
The crewmen found the shade of the sails to work under and still it was hot. Their movements became sluggish, and their work ragged. However, when darkness fell, so did the temperature. Shortly after dark, a shirt or blanket around the shoulders was required. Before dawn, the watches huddled under layers of blankets. By the time they finished breakfast the next morning they were shedding blankets and shirts.
Tanner kept his eyes on the horizon. He waited for the first sign of land. He admitted he was not a sailor and felt confined. The ship was too small for an ocean as large as that they sailed. But the first sign of land didn’t come from spotting it on the horizon. It was with a small, white bird that the crew pointed out. There were smiles all around.
Tanner leaned closer to Carrion so nobody heard him. He asked, “Why are they excited.”
“Those birds roost in rookeries on land. They return there every night.”
The smiles the crew displayed was duplicated by Tanner until a lookout called, “Sail ho!” He pointed to the starboard side of the ship.
The ship immediately heeled over, the sails shifting to catch the wind from the new direction as it sailed away, out of sight. Tanner watched the horizon from one side of the ship then shifted to the other. He never did find the other ship.
The situation was repeated later in the day, and again the Captain made a turn that moved them away from the other ship. But they had been only two ships spotted in the entire crossing of the Endless Sea, which indicated how few ships sailed across it. The two spotted were close to land. Close to Breslau, and without a doubt sailing from one of their ports to another.
Tanner’s heart beat faster. For him, those two ships were more of an indication that the next phase of the venture was about to begin—and it was the most dangerous. He took a bite of raisins and realized that as his boredom grew he ate more. Now, as his excitement increased, he ate more. Somewhere in those confused and tangled thoughts was a lesson, but he was too nervous to see it.
He caught himself jumping at unexpected sounds. A touch to his shoulder by Carrion found his hand on the knife at his waist.
They sent word to Devlin to meet with them after dark in their cabin. He appeared, a concerned smile on his face, but eager to talk. They explained the letter.
“I want to go with you to Breslau. I have the tattoos on my arms. I can help.”
“No, we need you to be here in case we don’t return. Our families need to know what happened.”
The argument lasted only a short while. When Devlin understood that the directions they gave to him were never shared, that he was becoming trusted by people who seldom gave trust to outsiders, he agreed. Then he promised to obey as they convinced him of the importance.
After he had left the cabin, Tanner said, “I don’t think we could have found a better person to help us.”
“The family will be interested in his tattoos. It marks him as a Crab, the lowest of humans. Much like our backs mark us.”
Tanner said, “If we do nothing else in Breslau, I want to examine the back of a Royal.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The night of the fifth day all sails were slack as a single small rowboat was lowered over the side. Carrion and Tanner each took an oar and rowed towards the few lights in the distance, away from the ship that displayed no candles or lanterns. In the time it took to stroke fifty times, the ship had become almost invisible. A soft breeze moved it away from the shore as they rowed silently.
They headed for a peninsula south of Breslau City, and the port. From the air, Carrion found there were few buildings along the shoreline and a road that appeared little used. The night was calm, the waves soft, and the breeze from behind.
They packed far more equipment than they would probably use, but intended to leave most of it in the boat unless needed. They had a lantern, water, short bows and arrows, dried food, and enough silver and copper coins to buy most anything else.
“Scared?” Carrion asked softly between the oars dipping into the water.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’d hate to think you are so stupid you didn’t understand the risks.”
Tanner didn’t know if the remark was supposed to draw a chuckle from him, or if it was said in total earnestness. He concentrated on keeping his oar matched with Carrion’s so the boat went straight. Now and then he turned to look at the shore but couldn’t see it. What he could see were the three stars that made a familiar lopsided triangle. They had become his guide.
The breaking waves told them they were getting close. The waves were small, regular, and in the stillness of the night sounded like thunder in spring. Tanner turned and checked for any light behind them once more. He saw none.
“Carrion, that road is close?”
“Just above the high tide mark.”
“No houses on this little peninsula, but how about further north?”
“Not for a while.”
“We need an excuse to be here.”
“Calm down! I know that as well as you. Listen, we’re not going to just walk into the city like we’re stupid. We’re going to observe. Hide. Learn. But you know all this.”
Tanner calmed himself. “Okay, let’s get to shore.”
They guided the boat into the last of the waves and let them push the boat onto the sandy beach. Together they leaped into the knee-deep water and pulled it onto dry land. Their eyes were accustomed to the dim light and as they looked around there seemed no place to hide the boat.
Carrion said as he pointed, “Go down that way. I’ll go the other.”
Tanner headed north, but found no shrubs or anything else to conceal the boat. He returned, to find Carrion already there. “Nothing.”
“Okay, we’ll pull it up near those little sand dunes, turn it over and cover it with sand.”
Tanner said, “I’m not trying to be funny, but what if we bury it and lose the location?”
“That’s a fair question. We’ll mark the location. A storm can blow in and change this whole beach.”
The boat
was heavy on land, but between the two of them, they managed to get it well up on the shore. They scooped sand out of a shallow hole and turned the boat over into it. The oars and supplies they were not taking with them went underneath and then sand was scooped over the entire boat.
The task took most of the night. When finished, Tanner had expected to depart for Breslau City, but he was both sleepy and tired, as well as cold. They agreed to sleep beside the boat. They brought three heavy blankets apiece, hardly enough to keep the cold at bay.
When the sun came up, they awoke, and the temperature immediately climbed. A single glance around the area showed them their work during the night was not enough to conceal their only means of returning home. The boat hull was only partly covered, and it was visible from a distance. The disturbed sand from their digging was obvious.
Carrion said, “Good thing we didn’t leave it like this.”
“Probably didn’t matter, from what I see. There’s nobody around here.”
“Grab an oar and we’ll use it to smooth the sand. The wind will take care of it after that,” Carrion said, as he swept more sand on top.
Tanner used the oar to smooth the sand. It wouldn’t fool anyone within a hundred paces, but they saw no footprints in the sand, no houses, and no indication that anyone lived or visited the peninsula. They walked directly to where they determined the road would be, finding an area of rock where loose boulders littered the ground.
“Our marker?” Tanner asked, already selecting several.
They made a pyramid waist high, a marker that could be seen from a distance. It told where the boat was hidden. To anyone else, it would mean little.
Another similar marker was constructed beside the road, far enough away that unless a person looked for it, they wouldn’t see it. It blended in with the surroundings so well that it almost hid. Carrion went to the side of the road, just a few steps away it, and quickly stacked more rocks. A smaller indicator, but a beacon to locate the others.
Carrion said, “We’ll cross the road and walk parallel to it. That side of the road is higher. Keep your eyes ahead and stay low.”
“How long until we reach the first village?”
“Mid-morning at the latest.”
They skirted the road, using whatever cover offered itself. They saw nobody and the road remained as empty and unused as it was in ill repair. They saw no wagon tracks, footprints, or indications that people had used the road in days. Or ten days.
However, as their hopes diminished of reaching the village, buildings appeared ahead of them. The road continued right on through the center, with three buildings on one side and five on the other.
The ground was rocky, broken, and dark gray. Here and there enough soil had accumulated for tufts of grass to grow after rain and turn brown as the relentless sun beat down. The land was far from flat.
Off to their right stood mountains white with snow at their peaks. They were not the rounded mountains Tanner was used to. Instead, they stood tall, their slopes seemingly vertical, and the jagged horizon reminded him of the teeth of a dragon.
There were a hundred places to conceal themselves as they moved closer to the shabby buildings. The wood siding had warped and twisted in the heat and the sun until gaps large enough to slip his fingers inside were more common than not. Tanner wondered why the people didn’t repair them with a few nails but realized they allowed air to enter. A small breeze would help cool them.
His mind turned to rain as his eyes shifted and looked for any sign of it. When had it rained last in this godless place?
Then he looked for signs of a dog. Barking dogs warn farmers of intruders. Their job is to protect, but he saw no sign of them.
Carrion had paused at a small rise where they could lay behind the nub of a hill and watch. Nothing moved. He saw no cows, pigs, chickens, or sheep. On the beach were four boats in various states of disrepair, none capable of floating long enough to reach deep water where it would certainly sink.
“I don’t see any sign of life,” Tanner said.
“I think this place is deserted. Let’s move closer.”
They ran to the edge of what looked like a tool shed and peeked around the corner. Nothing moved, not even the flutter of a curtain. They listened. Only the wind rustling sounded. Not a bird singing, an insect buzzing, or chipmunks chattering.
“String your bow and cover me,” Carrion said without turning his head to make sure Tanner did it. Instead, he slipped noiselessly around the corner and sprinted to the rear of the nearest house. He paused, his ear to the wall.
Tanner had an arrow ready. His eyes roamed over the entire area and all the buildings. A stretcher for fishing nets stood beside a small pier. The nets were torn and hung in streams of string.
Carrion ran for the next house. He moved on after motioning for Tanner to remain on watch. After checking the outside of the houses on the near side of the road, he crossed and examined them, pausing only a short while at each. Then he walked out into plain sight and waved for Tanner to join him. Tanner ran to his side.
“I don’t believe anyone is here. Sand is piled on the steps, nothing that I see tells me people have been here for a while,” Carrion said, as he led the way to the nearest door and lifted the latch.
Inside was dry and smelled of a space unlived it. They entered and found everything intact, but covered in layers of sand that had drifted in through the openings clearly seen from the inside as streaks of light. Pots, furniture, tools, and beds. All unused.
The room had none of the smells of a room lived in. No cooking odors or scents of people sweating or breathing. It was void of the normal smells of life.
They went to the next building, another house. Inside they found much the same, but in one of the chairs sat a woman. Her skin had dried, by the fluids draining from her body, leaving it a husk. She was a mummy wearing a round hat to shade her face from the sun. A knife handle protruded from her ribs. At her side lay the remains of a dog, another knife in it.
After exchanging looks but no words, they left and surveyed the area again. It had taken on a pall as if the clouds had lowered and turned the day darker, but there were no clouds and the sun remained bright. The change was in Tanner’s mind.
They moved on to the next house and discovered five bodies inside, all dried and grotesque in death. Each died violently. Most still had knives in them as if someone had carried a pouch of knives and stabbed each person to death, leaving the knives in them as warnings.
Carrion surveyed the room and said, “This is more than death or murder. These people were punished before dying. They watched each other die, knowing they would be next. Maybe thieves demanding to know where they kept their money.”
“Or the King’s military demanding information they probably didn’t have so they died.”
“Let's make a quick check of the other buildings, then a more thorough search.”
Tanner didn’t hesitate to leave the house with all the dead bodies. As they walked to the buildings on the other side of the road, he said, “How long does it take for bodies to dry out like that?”
“In this heat and dryness, it would still take time. Twenty days? Thirty? I don’t know.”
“The least we can do is bury them,” Tanner said.
“That’s a thought to be proud of, but we’re not going to do it. If whoever killed them returns we want them to find things exactly as they left them. We want to leave no clue we were here, so be careful of what you touch or move.”
The other buildings were much the same, but without bodies. Tanner pulled himself together. “We don’t need food, weapons, or even to know who did this. As far as I’m concerned, we can leave without going back to them.”
“Not quite yet,” Carrion said. “I did notice one or two things.”
Tanner didn’t wish to enter any of the houses again. “What?”
“That second house, where we found the woman and the dog, had a stone structure in the rear. It’s the only thin
g built of stone I’ve seen here. It might be a well, which is why this village exists in this place.”
“We have water.”
“We do now. What about on our return? Knowing where to find water in a desert like this can save our lives.”
“Agreed. What else?”
“Clothing. Ours is different from what the dead are wearing, and that will make us stand out. The Captain mentioned a land of ‘capes.' I didn’t think to question him, I assumed he was speaking of peninsulas, now I think he meant capes that are worn.”
“It’s too hot for capes.”
“Not at night. The temperature here falls so fast that I’ll bet it frosts some nights. But during the day, it cooks. Capes can cover your arms to prevent sunburn. At night, they will warm you.”
Tanner said, “How did you get this idea of capes?”
“In the house where most of them died, there were pegs on the wall. All held either capes or straw hats. No coats. It made me wonder why, and then it made sense.”
They were standing at the door to the cabin, talking as if trying to delay entering. Tanner finally unlatched the door and entered. He walked to the rear where a stone circle almost waist high dominated. A wooden lid was hinged with leather straps on one side, a handle on the other. He opened it.
The sweet, dank smell of water told him Carrion was right. A bucket on a rope sat on a ledge inside. He lowered the bucket a short distance and heard the splash. Lifting it revealed fresh water, tepid, but clear. He sniffed. Then tasted. “I think it’s good.”
Carrion had entered another room. He called, “Come here.”
Tanner closed the lid to prevent animals from getting inside and trapped, then dying and spoiling the water. They might need it on their return.
Carrion had a trunk open. He held up a hooded cape made of heavy material, a dull rust color. He tossed it around his shoulders and tied it under his chin. It fell to his waist. A flip of his hands and the hood covered his head. The hood was too big, the front edge fell over his forehead, almost hiding his face.
