Dragon Clan #5: Tanner's Story
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He awoke choking and sputtering. Fingers intertwined in his hair twisted and pulled his head back enough so a mug could pour water into his mouth. His restraints had been changed. He now sat on the deck, hands, and feet tied in front of him.
It was not the same person in front of him. It was a common sailor wearing only a pair of pants that went below his knees. His chest was bare, the scars of whippings indicating he had faced several punishments. Tanner glanced at the arm holding the mug. It was covered from the back of the hand to the shoulder with crude images tattoos of dragons.
A Crab, like Devlin. “Thank you.”
The Crab threw the remaining water in his face, stood and walked away. Laughter caused Tanner to turn and see the other was still there. He snarled, “I think your friend is going to die.”
Tanner looked at Carrion. His breathing was slow and soft. He hadn’t moved. “Help him.”
“Talk to me.”
“Are you a Royal?”
“Not yet.” The sneer was in place again.
The answer was odd. Not yet. As if he intended to be, but it hadn’t happened. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you really think you could just walk into Breslau and not be noticed? The King pay’s a hefty reward for reporting strangers. At least twenty people reported you.”
Tanner said nothing. His mind was clearing, and their biggest secret was out. The man knew they were Dragon Clan. If Tanner said nothing about burning Shrewsbury, or the weapons they’d destroyed, there was not a lot to tell that was not already known.
“Help my friend. I’m talking, but only if you get him out of the sun and give him water.”
“I could just roll him over the side.”
Tanner turned his face away. Answering would only give the other more power.
Finally, the voice ordered, “Drag him to the shade and see if you can get some water into him so he can talk.”
The Crab leaped to obey. Tanner said, “Untie him.”
“No. You talk, and we’ll see. What family are you from?”
Family? How did he know about Dragon Clan families? “Highlands.”
“I thought so. How did you get here?”
Carrion’s eyes flickered, then locked onto Tanner until he noticed. Then Carrion closed them as if he was still asleep. The Crab stood beside the stairs that led to the rest of the ship. Time to lie. “We hired a ship to sneak us ashore north of Breslau City. The Captain robbed us a gold coin each, but he got us here.”
“The name of the ship and captain?”
“Captain Brice of the Far Seeker.”
“That pirate? You must have paid him well so he didn’t slit your throats.”
“There are two more gold coins held by a banker in Racine that will be his when he comes back the same time next month. He’ll pick us up at the same place.”
“Four gold coins? No wonder he was so eager to have you as passengers. Why did you come?”
“Our family send us to gather information.”
The smirk changed to a smile. “Of course, they did. I suppose you sat at a family council, and they all told you how important it is to gather information about the others. Too bad they didn’t know they’re on the losing side of a war.”
He had again said more than people knew about the Dragon Clan. Tanner said, “Who are you?”
“Stinson. Of the Drylands family.”
“You’re Dragon Clan?”
Almost casually, with also displaying insolence, he turned and flipped up the back of his shirt. The mark of the dragon was there, but no member ever displayed it in that manner. Tradition demanded a full display, and one in return.
Tanner said, “You’re working with them?”
“The Dragon Clan betrayed me. One of my family named Gray left me to die, but the Royals rescued me and brought me here. My own family sent me into the desert to die so now I’m returning the favor.”
“You’re joining the Royals? How will you sense their dragons?”
“Sense? That shows how stupid you are. They don’t sense each other, like when you have the damned thing growing on your back. They are Dragon Masters.”
The attitude provided more information than Tanner could comprehend. “What do Dragon Masters do?”
“They take eggs, hatch them and raise their dragons. They teach them to obey.”
“Like trained dogs?”
“That’s one way of putting it. They actually teach their dragons to do what they want, within reason. They rule Breslau with their dragons. None dare object. Now, you’ve heard me answer your questions. I expect the same from you.”
Tanner tried to make his face seemed puzzled. He said in his most respectful tone, “Sir? I’ll answer all your questions, but I think I’ve told you everything.”
“Is your family preparing for war?”
“We are always ready to fight King Ember.”
“Not him, with us,” he stressed the last word.
“Oh, you mean are we going to war with Breslau? No, we’re just trying to find out if the Royals are part of the Dragon Clan.” Tanner felt the slightest tingle on his back. He glanced at Carrion, who looked as if he had passed out again. His eyes were closed, his mouth hung open, and his chin rested on his chest.
But Tanner had seen him communicate with his red dragon too many times to miss the slight flutter of the eyes behind the lids. He knew the touch of the dragon when it came in range. What he didn’t know was what plan Carrion had in mind.
Distract Stinson. “I can understand your feelings. But you are Dragon Clan. How can you be sure the Royals are going to make you part of them?”
“They have offered me the entire southern part of Princeton, from the Summer Palace to the south as far as I can go. I will be an Earl, reporting only to the King of Breslau.” He stood taller and thrust his chest out.
“I’m impressed,” Tanner said. “Do they bargain for similar roles for others who are traitors who offer their families and heritage for sale? Or do they believe you are the only scum to accept such a reward for the deaths of all you know?”
As he spoke, his voice had risen. The tingling on his back had increased to pin-pricks of pain and Tanner didn’t understand how Stinson didn’t feel them. But as he looked at the anger in the red face, the balled fists, and the menacing steps forward, he knew Stinson was beyond normal sensitivities.
Stinson loomed over him when suddenly he straightened as if a bucket of water had been tossed in his face. His eyes went wide, and he turned his head until he found the red dragon in the distance. “Dragon!” He shouted again, louder as he pointed. “Dragon!”
Feet ran on the decks sending vibrations Tanner could feel. There were the shouts of orders from superiors and fearful responses. The ship turned. Tanner could see part of the deck and bow. Men appeared with swords held high.
But Tanner and Carrion were on a deck above the rest, tied hand and foot. The dragon could attack the ship and spit the caustic substance that ate through almost anything. The ship would sink, but they would drown. The angry red could attack the ship and rip it to splinters, but again they would drown.
What was Carrion up to? But he dared not interrupt the mental activities of his friend or even hint that Carrion was behind the attack. They all believed him to be unconscious.
A glance at Stinson revealed fear in a way Tanner had never witnessed. Stinson stood on weak knees, his mouth hanging open with drool hanging from his chin. His eyes were locked on the red dragon that seemed to be flying directly at him.
Tanner looked beyond Stinson and saw the same thing. The dragon had shifted directions and flew at the bow of the ship, wings beating fiercely. It opened its mouth and emitted a screech so loud and wild Tanner tried to break his bonds and cover his ears.
The mouth was lined with teeth. The forked tongue flicked, testing the air. The wings beat the air with harsh rasping sounds.
A crewman screamed in terror. Others joined him. They ran for cover, most disa
ppearing below decks. Two dived over the side in their fear. In a heartbeat, the only people in sight were the three of them.
The dragon spat at the bow. Great wads of a thick substance looking like tar struck the foredeck. Where it landed, it spread and sizzled, small trails of acrid smoke already rising.
But the dragon came on. Its massive body struck the mast and snapped it off. It fell, along with all the rigging. The dragon stood on the deck and spat again, then took a bite of the side of the hull, twisting and tearing at the boards. Part of the inside of the hull was exposed. The dragon spat again and again, then leaped from the deck and flew away, circling when it was well away, and it headed for the ship again.
It twisted in mid-flight, adjusting its approach. Tanner saw it was going to land next to them, but instead, at the last instant, it extended both rear claws and grasped him and Carrion. Its wings beat harder and Tanner felt lifted into the air. He feared the dragon couldn’t carry them both, but quickly remembered seeing a dragon snatch two deer and fly away with them. This was no different.
The toes wrapped completely around him, firm yet not hurting. Still, he screamed in fear. The dragon flew for the shoreline, a ragged edge of the horizon. Tanner ran out of breath to scream, as the blurred water passed far below. The down stroke of each flap of the dragon’s wings transmitted the feeling of being lifted. As they pushed down, Tanner was lifted up.
He looked at the other rear leg and saw Carrion, still tied, laughing as if watching a field of baby goats frolicking. Carrion shouted something the wind whisked away.
Tanner calmed himself enough to catch his breath. He turned and looked to the Lady Marion. It was sinking by the bow. The acid the dragon spit on the hull had already eaten through. Men were in the water. He felt no remorse.
Tanner remembered he had wondered what it looked like to Carrion when he used the eyes of the dragon, and now he knew. He hadn’t expected to hear the wind or noise of the air rushing past. It looked little different than watching from the side of a ship.
As they reached land, he found his eyes had something to relate to. The first small house drew it all back to reality. If the dragon dropped him, he would hit so hard he’d leave an impression in the rock where he landed just like the one rumored to King Ember’s father.
The dragon flew along the beach, over the small fishing village with the mummies. The small peninsula where they had hidden the boat was just ahead. His eyes found where they had half-buried it.
Even though they were still trussed and being carried as high as the top of a small mountain, he met Carrion’s eyes and smiled. They’d land ashore near the rowboat. The red dragon would spit acid on the ground, and that acid could eat through the ropes that bound them. Once free, they had completed all they set out to do.
Captain Jamison would be waiting for them on The Rose after dark. Now their only task was to travel home and prevent an invasion, or win a war, whichever came first. The future would be interesting either way.
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LeRoy Clary
I have never met a dragon. Never even seen one. But wish I had. They fascinate me, so I decided to construct a mental world where they coexist with people. Most of my books are about them, and I call the people the Dragon Clan.
A book called DRAGON! started it. While similar to the Dragon Clan Series, it set up the idea of how to live and survive in a world where dragons are part of the landscape without resorting to cartoonish dragons or creatures as intelligent and conniving as people. The next hurdle was to keep the stories coming fast enough to satisfy the readers.
The book called the Blade of Lies was a finalist in an Amazon national novel writer’s contest, although under another name. It survives with humor, a medieval setting, and the idea that good guys do win. It is worth the read.
I've done a bit of everything before retiring from teaching high school math and special education. Before that I served in the US Navy, I worked in the electronics field as a technician, supervisor, and owner of a telecom business. I earned my papers as a sea captain for sailboats and motor craft, all of which gives me the background to write books about dragons.
Now that I have the time . . . I write. Every day. I'm writing about the Dragon Clan now, a series of interrelated books and characters. Each book is about them, but centers on one or two characters. They often meet each other in different books.
AUTHOR’S NOTES
If you have any comments or suggestions—good or bad—or anything else to say, please feel free to contact me at my personal email leroy.clary@gmail.com I have responded to all emails, so far, and hope to continue that trend. I love the comments, and, at least, one future book is because of an email exchange with a fan.
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