by LeRoy Clary
The eyes of the dragon looked less adoring as it allowed the leg that it gnawed on to fall to the ground. Its wings unfolded slightly and twitched in agitation. The animal sidestepped slowly until its body shielded the rabbit from Gareth, but it did not take another bite.
“Give me the rabbit,” He said the words in his mind, mouth firmly shut.
The dragon hissed.
“Now. Give it to me.”
Eyes as cold as the shiver that ran up his back centered on Gareth. Then, in a rush, the dragon grabbed the carcass in its mouth and took three tentative steps closer. It let the rabbit fall to the ground as it retreated one small step, watching Gareth intently.
“Okay, you can eat it now.”
The dragon leaped the short distance to the rabbit and tore into a hind leg with a sickening crunch of bone. In a few minutes, only a patch of bloody fur remained.
A voice came from behind, a woman’s voice, but he had not heard her speak before “That was very impressive. Now, you three need to get under cover and stay still because a brown is about to fly directly over us.”
Gareth had spun at her first word. A woman stood motionless beside a nearby boulder, dressed in brown pants and green shirt, much like the first woman. There was no way of telling how long she had been there. She blended in so well that he had to look for her before picking her out from the background. She was a younger clone of the woman with the bow, one hand on a hip and the other pointing at a stand of small trees she wanted them to move under. Then she stepped quickly beneath the overhanging branches near her, never looking back to see if he followed suit.
Gareth grabbed the rope and pulled the goat nearer the trunks. “You too,” he said to the dragon. The dragon half-ran to join them, tail sweeping back and forth with each step. Once safely under the large branches, Gareth looked at the newcomer and said, “I never got the name of the other woman who was here. What’s yours?”
“Mary. She was Sister Karen.”
“Just Mary?”
She sat in the grass. “Mary and Karen, to you. Simple names for simple people. Tell your dragon to remain still until the brown has passed. Nasty looking little thing, your beastie. I heard it’s a black, but this is the first one I’ve ever seen. I thought blacks were extinct or just myths. Keep a good hold on that line with the goat until it passes, too. Their eyesight spots any movement.”
“Who are you people?”
Mary said, “Nobody you need concern yourself with. I don’t want any trouble from you, understand? Keep calm.”
Gareth sat and looked between the overhead branches and watched the sky. Gareth never doubted he’d see a brown dragon. When it came into view, it flew lower than expected and almost right over them. It was so low Gareth watched it and saw the eyes flick left then right, then left again. The rustle of wings sounded like the scrape of old sheet metal on sand. He imagined the sweep of the wings causing his hair to move.
The brown flew on. Mary’s comment and attitude angered him. He glanced at his feet trying to avoid posturing and threatening. He wanted to keep calm and control his thoughts. His little black dragon lay in the dirt nearby, curled up and asleep. Peaceful, but in a way, a coiled snake might take just before striking.
Mary saw where he looked and shifted her attention as he glanced up. She said, “They say male blacks are the largest and most powerful of all. Intelligent, too. Right now, it looks as harmless as a kitten. So do you. Okay, we can move again, but be prepared to take cover at any time.”
“Mary, is that all you have for a name?”
“Sister Mary, if it suits you but don’t be critical. Our traditional names are better than calling a black dragon ‘Blackie,'” she chuckled.
“Only until I think of a better name. How’d you know that name?” Gareth felt like he was suddenly standing there naked and she was looking at him. Then, he realized the growing smile she wore was because she knew his thoughts. He tried shifting thoughts to safer subjects, couldn’t manage, and in his mind saw her standing naked.
Her smile increased. “You need to know that any ‘sensitive’ can read your thoughts better than normal people hear words,” she pulled a metal flask from her hip and held it out to him. “They know exactly what you are thinking. Everything. Here, drink this. All of it, and don’t bother telling me how bad it tastes, because it does.”
The more he tried to think of other things the more intense his vision of a naked Mary became. Gareth didn’t move to take the flask. “What is it?”
“Medicine. I was bringing it to Karen when she had to leave you. It’ll stop you from telling your enemies where we are with your every thought. A herb that will numb your thinking to an extent, and make you sleepy. It’s important you drink it right away.”
Her persuasive manner and calm confidence made him want to trust her. Yet he didn’t know her and drinking what she termed medicine seemed foolish. He glanced at the goat and found it lying down, eyes closed, legs curled under it. The dragon slept on, breathing deeply and snorting occasionally. Strange for them to sleep so soundly in the middle of the day. Gareth nodded with his chin. “Do you have anything to do with them sleeping?”
She nodded. “We sisters have a way with animals.”
“Can you make them obey you, too?”
“No. At least, not like you. We only suggest, but your dragon is bound to you or bonded, as some say. You communicate directly. Bound or bonded means that if your dragon does not see you for ten years, it will still think you are its mother. Your minds are as one. Sisters hold a less powerful link with animals. We simply trigger basic reactions in animals, like telling them they need to sleep, but if they do not want to, they will ignore us. With the two of you bonded, it is like one person thinking two thoughts.”
“Can you order me to sleep?”
“I could try, but you’d resist.”
Gareth shook his head. Some of her explanation made sense, but much did not.
She continued, “Don’t worry about it, especially now. You are taking the first step on a long staircase. For now, you need to remain calm and keep your thoughts to yourself so the others do not find you. That’s why the medicine. It’ll calm your mind.”
“Karen said others can hear every word I think.”
“Most people ‘hear’ your feelings and think they are their own, if they have a little touch of the power, and most people do. They do not hear the actual thoughts or sentences unless they are brothers or sisters. However, there are times when you are so blatant about your feelings they may as well be words that everyone can hear.”
He held the flask to his mouth and allowed a drop of the amber liquid to touch his tongue. Bitter. “If I don’t drink this?”
“I won’t force you if that’s what you’re asking. What I will do, is leave this place as fast as I can, because anyone near you is certainly going to be captured or die. Including you. Probably by burning in a mire of dragon spit from those overhead, but don’t count out swords or spears. You are drawing your enemies to you like flies to honey.”
She eyed the full flask, stepped back and straightened her tunic with a tub to the bottom hem as if to leave, her attitude of indifference impressing Gareth more than her words alone. He said, “This will help me from spreading my thoughts everywhere? Keep me safe?”
She nodded.
Gareth carefully watched her reactions to his words and tone. She seemed sincere in her concerns about dying if she stayed near him, and that scared him more than the contents of the flask. He tipped it and allowed the bitter concoction to fill his mouth before sliding down his throat, ignoring the taste. He kept his eyes locked on hers.
She accepted the empty container and spoke softly. “Sit. Very soon your mind should stop sending your thoughts out like an angry swarm of bees after the hive is attacked, but too many people have already heard you. Most have determined roughly where you are and are already near here, or they are on their way, traveling fast. Everybody wants you.”
“I don’t understand why.”
She shrugged, and settled herself next to him. “Normally sensitive men pair with another with the same ability when they’re young. One listens while the other speaks. They can only pair with one other man. Communication is in a single direction. You break all the rules.”
Gareth tried to follow her thinking, but his mind already felt dull and slow, like it had been running up a long hill, slowly. “Men?”
“Of the cloth. The Brotherhood, I’m sure you’ve seen them. They wear long green robes and look like their minds are a hundred leagues away, which they are.”
“Teachers.”
“Yes, they sometimes teach. You know of them?”
His tongue felt thick and slow. “They travel in pairs like you said.”
“Yes. One of the pair listens and the other speaks, but not to each other. Their partners are far away, where they can relay their information to those who sell it.”
“I can’t hear them.”
She paused, nodded as if coming to a decision, and said, “I believe that in time you will. Soon. You just don’t know how, yet. You had only bonded with your dragon a day ago. But as your talent improves, you will hear so much I don’t know how you will shut it all out, let alone filter it to hear what you want.”
“I would have to filter the thoughts? Can that be done?”
She snorted and almost smiled. “You already do it with sounds. Right now around us, there are sounds of leaves rustling, insects calling to one another, your dragon snoring, and probably a hundred others. Yet you only “hear” my voice. You filter out the others without even trying.”
Gareth fought to keep his mind active. Mary was sharing information he’d wondered about his whole life, and he fought to think of what he should ask her next while he was still able, and while she was willing to share. Should he ask about the night whispers? For some reason, he quickly decided not to. “Who buys information from the Brotherhood?”
“Tradesmen, farmers, kings, generals, and fishermen, like your friend, Tom. Anyone.”
“Why?”
“You mean; why would someone pay the Brotherhood of men for information? Well, suppose you’re a farmer and learn that a drought ruined the wheat crop in Drakesport, and you can sell your wheat for much more if you send it in a wagon to their market, instead of to Tanner’s Crossing. Perhaps to the north seas far more fish being caught this year than normal. Would you pay for that knowledge if you fished for a livelihood? Or, if you were a general in the King’s army and could know the size and location of the enemy, what would you pay?”
Gareth heard her and understood the value of selling information, but his mind grew ever slower under the influence of the drug. He concentrated on her words, as well as the concepts, but much of it felt lost. There were many more questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t think of them. His thoughts felt soft and directionless. He closed his eyes but did not sleep.
She continued, speaking as a mother to a newborn to calm it, “Information of the right sort is often more valuable than gold. The Brotherhood travel in pairs and they are in constant communication with their opposites, rumored to be located in a valley far beyond the Blue Mountains. They walk the lands of all kingdoms and observe everything, reporting what they find. Invent a new weapon and they see it today and sell it to far lands, tomorrow. A rival king takes ill, and the best healers flock to him. For a price.”
The mini dragon sluggishly escaped his bag and curled up at Gareth’s waist. He didn’t have the will or energy to shove it away. The woman continued talking, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to understand her words. She seemed more relaxed, as if safer. Mary tipped his head back, and he felt cool water trickle down his throat.
A smile crept onto his face as he remembered Odd’s daughter, Sara, giving him water on the farm during plowing season or when working to harvest the fields. Funny he often thought of that one simple action more than any other.
In a few words, Mary had supplied information he’d need to think about and consider for a long time before understanding. There was much more to know, but he now had a place to begin. A start. Somewhere in her words was the reason for his being and the reason why the whole world seemed to be chasing him. There might even be a pathway to his future if he could keep his mind on track.
Blackie is not a good name for my dragon. I’ll have to think of a better one. . . Later.
She poured more of the bitter potion into his mouth. He didn’t object.
The afternoon sun felt warm on his face. He drifted off, thinking of Odd’s farm and the peaceful existence he’d enjoyed at Dun Mare again. Faring’s quick wit and wide smile filled his dreams, as did his time learning from the teachers. Some days, especially during the winter when there was little work to do on the farm, a succession of teachers sat with him. One subject followed another until his mind rejected more. They were good times. No stress and only today to worry about. The warmth of those days filled him.
Someone shook his shoulder.
He ignored it. It shook again, harder.
“Try to wake up boy,” Tom said. “You have to stand up. We have a long way to go, and we need to move fast.”
Tom’s back. He needs to know so much. Gareth forced his eyes open and met the concerned expression on Tom’s face. Gareth’s mind reeled with all the information he needed to share. He concentrated on singling out an item to begin, but his tongue felt too thick for his mouth. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Tom. Blackie is a bad name for my dragon, you know that? I need a better one.”
A woman’s voice, “What’s he talking about?”
“His dragon. Help me get him to his feet.”
Hands helped him stand. He wobbled but managed to remain upright with help.
The woman spoke again, her voice sharp. “The Brotherhood and the king’s army are closing in fast. If we so much as step out into the open, we’ll be seen by their lookouts or dragons, if we’re lucky. Probably they’ll just kill you and me and take him prisoner. It would be better for the two of us if we slit his throat, and made our separate ways from this place.”
Tom answered, “You’re right, Karen. We both know it. But I have to wonder what this boy can accomplish if we help him escape. What a tragedy if he should die before making his mark.”
Gareth wondered briefly, why Tom called her Karen and remembered that was the name of the first woman. The one with the bow. Where was Mary?
“For a seller of corn, you speak more like a prophet,” she said. “Do you have a plan, Tom? Because all I know to do is kill him and run from this place as fast as I can.”
“I say we wait until first dark. Then move. Stop at daybreak tomorrow and hide.”
“If any of the dragons spot that little black from the air they’ll attack us as if they’re crazed,” Karen said. “All dragons hate blacks. They’ll cover the ground with spit a foot deep, with us buried in it.”
“I know. They say they hate male blacks because they’re so big intelligent and powerful, but we need to protect it,” Tom said, walking Gareth in a circle to revive him. His left arm held the young man steady on his feet. “I suspect they’re a bonded pair, now. That’s the first male black I’ve ever seen or heard of in modern days. A female black dropped him into the ocean near my boat.”
Gareth heard and understood much of their discussion, and while they spoke as if he couldn’t hear them, he found a rising sense of distrust. Karen mentioned slitting his throat. Tom had not offered to protect him from her, only to discuss mutual escape. He decided to listen and pretend the medicine still worked to dampen his thoughts. He inhaled and calmed his thinking. Smooth thoughts.
Karen said, “Has it crossed your mind that we may have the most powerful dragon and the most powerful man in the world with us? If not now, someday. Have you thought about what they might do together as a bonded pair?”
Tom paused and shifted his position to better support Gareth, then turned to the sleeping drago
n curled up in the bag, stretching the seams to bursting. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
Karen moved her hand away from the hilt of her knife, then gripped it again as if unsure of her next action. “We have a whole world to worry about. You’re sure we shouldn’t kill him here?”
Gareth glanced at Tom with one eye half open. It seemed Tom refused eye contact with her, but he couldn’t be sure.
Tom glanced at Gareth and slowly shook his head. “No, he stays alive.”
Gareth didn’t see conviction in the action or hear it in the voice. Tom’s not my friend.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gareth tried to keep his mind relaxed while listening to them plan his future. He didn’t want Karen pouring more of the drugged medicine into him because he allowed his thoughts to escape, again. He would shuffle along the path, listening, and remaining calm in his thinking. If possible.
The long shadows of first-dark merged with darkness as Tom slipped the strap of Gareth’s leather bag over his shoulder. The dragon stuffed inside stretched the seams to bursting. Tom pushed the dragon’s head inside, but the dragon hissed and snarled, head emerged again. Finally, the dragon allowed Tom to carry the bag. However, it insisted on keeping its head exposed, and the eyes watched everything around, especially Gareth, who stumbled along with Karen’s arm, wrapped around his shoulder, supporting him.
“Just protecting its mother,” Tom muttered to nobody in particular but smiling as he did.
They paused only long enough to turn the goat loose in a field of grass where other goats grazed in the starlight. Traveling with the goat slowed them down too much, but it had accomplished its task of making Gareth appear a local farmhand. The goat stood apart from the herd and watched them walk away as if it wanted to continue the journey with them. Maybe it was glad to be free of them, and it watched to ensure they didn’t return. Gareth flashed it a smile in the moonlight, but the goat turned away and may not have seen it.
