by LeRoy Clary
Finally, Shell raised his arms to gain their attention. “Let me tell you the short story, and Henry can fill in the details later, or we’ll still be here for breakfast.”
Henry’s mother’s sister shouted, “You will, anyhow. You don’t think we’re going to let you out of here, do you?”
While the laughter still rang in the room, Henry cut it off by telling what he knew in short, simple words, telling of the accident that killed Henry’s parents without details. As a hush fell over the group, punctuated with a few sniffles and tears, Henry told the story, right up to Camilla’s kidnapping and the village where they notified the constable.
Some of the parts were skipped or made light of because of the wolf that roamed the perimeter of the farm searching for a tasty rabbit, but Shell waited until the end before adding. “I can add details later. I’m sorry to have to tell you about his Ma and Pa.”
The farmer recovered first. “Sounds like you took care of them for now, but if I ever get up that way I might want to pay a visit to those people that beat you. You’ll carry a few scars for the rest of your life, but you have nothing to be ashamed of, boy.”
Amy nodded her agreement, looked at her husband who nodded back and said, “This is a big farm, and there is so much work to do around her we were thinking of hiring a hand. Would you please consider staying here with us and helping us out?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Shell found time to be alone with Susan long enough to thank her for telling the small lie about needing help on the farm, and knowing from the offer that she was a good woman, he slipped her the silver coins from selling Henry’s farm, along with two small gold coins from the bowl at the cabin. Henry had earned the extra. Now he had enough to buy a large farm and have silver left over for animals, tools, and even enough to weather a poor crop or two.
He also told her of the portion of the crops Henry would receive, and that Henry didn’t understand what sharecropping meant. She assured him she would see to it that when he was older, the profits would be waiting. He was family, after all, her nephew.
Just after daylight, Camilla and Shell walked back down the lane they had been so scared to walk on the day before. Camilla said, “Where’s your wolf?”
Shell flicked his index finger ahead and to one side.
“I want to meet her. I mean, she saved my life. I saw her for an instant but thought she would tear me apart next, so that does not count. At the cabin, my mind was lost, so I really didn’t see her there, and I owe her my thanks. Will she come if you call him?”
“If she wants to.”
“Can you make her?”
“Why would I do that?”
Camilla smiled. “Up ahead, when we cross a stream, and we’re hidden from road people by willows, ask her to come to us, please. I want to thank Pudding properly.”
“Pudding is a stupid name for a wolf. I just waited until we found a home for Henry so I could choose a different one.”
“And now that Henry is tucked safely away with his family you think you are going to change Pudding’s name? Think again, Shell. Just when I start to like you, you say something stupid.”
“You like me?”
“As opposed to despising you for following me and trying to change the wolf’s name behind Henry’s back. I should have said, I am learning to tolerate you because now you’re going to confuse like with love, and it isn’t anything like that.”
Shell just smiled like an idiot, his grin stretching across his face until it hurt. Her protest was too loud and too long for it to be true. He lifted his gaze to the road ahead, and beyond. The roofs of the first buildings of Fleming were in sight when they found a wide, shallow stream with a path along one side.
When they were concealed by willows, cottonwoods, and cattails, Shell prepared to ask Pudding to come to him. He felt her resting slightly ahead of them. She stood, but when she stepped out of the undergrowth a few steps away, Camilla drew back.
The sight of a predator so close, with its head almost reaching to her chin, and weighing close to twice what Camilla did, must have startled her. She recovered quickly, holding out her hand in greeting. Pudding stepped closer and rubbed her chest on the side of Camilla’s leg, then sat and allowed Camilla to talk to her while stroking the wolf’s neck.
A butterfly flitted past, and Pudding snapped at it from reflex, drawing laughter from the two people. The butterfly continued flying on, but Pudding kept her amber eyes on it.
“She’s beautiful,” Camilla said.
“If you like your beauty tall, lanky, and dangerous.” The wolf was receiving more affection than she ever had, and Shell felt a tinge of jealousy. He also felt the twitch on his back that told of the dragon flying nearer.
Camilla paused with her playfulness with the wolf and looked up.
Shell said, “There’s more I need to tell you.”
“You mentioned you wanted to speak alone. Go ahead.”
“At Henry’s farm, there were five of them waiting for me, all with shovels and ax handles. I was so angry at what they did to Henry, I sort of lost my head and went after them all.”
“And your staff, I suppose, which evened things out considerably.”
“Nope. It was in the house, forgotten. I went with my fists,” Shell said, hanging his head in shame.
“Well, that was stupid, but I understand. Did Pudding save you?”
“No, a dragon had landed beside me a few days before, just as we arrived at your village. A small dragon. A Red. It stood no taller than me, but otherwise, it was the same as full sized dragons. At Henry’s home, it flew from nowhere like in the old Dragon Clan stories, and attacked the Smithson men, knocking them to the ground and tearing into them.”
“Don’t stop just when the story is getting good,” Camilla said when he paused at the memory.
“Well, it saved me, then flew over their farmhouse and started spitting acid. Some of it hit the stove I guess because there was smoke coming out the chimney. The house burst into flames.”
“Where was Pudding?”
“Killing all of their stock. He was very upset that they hurt Henry.”
“Whew, that’s a story. Those people deserved to have their stock killed and house burned if you ask me. The red dragon was small? I’ve never heard of one like that.” Camilla continued, asking reasonable-sounding questions that put Shell on edge.
His voice grew sharper. “It looked and acted like an adult in all ways but how small it was.”
“But the two of you didn’t bond? You chose a wolf instead?”
Shell hesitated. Her choice of words was offensive, even if the tone was not. She still sat and stroked the coarse fur of the wolf’s back and down her side, now and then pausing to remove a sticker or bit of tangle in the fur. He decided that if she had a hairbrush with her, she would brush her coat, and Pudding certainly seemed to be enjoying the attention. With a shock, he realized he hadn’t hardly touched the wolf as she and Henry had.
He said carefully, “I don’t know what happened in either case. There is a sort of bond with the wolf. I can tell where it is at all times, and we can exchange simple messages. Impressions might be a better word. But I cannot see through its eyes or hear what it hears, not the way bonding with dragons has been explained to me.”
Camilla rubbed the wolf under its chin, her hand idly searching for more tangles. “Then tell me about bonding with your dragon.”
“It’s not my dragon.” She seemed intent on wording conversation in ways to irritate him. “I’m not sure what happened, but of all the things I’ve heard about bonding with dragons, the only one that seems to hold true is that I can sense it nearly all the time, the same as you. But it follows me.”
“That’s not bonding because you’re right. I sense it, too. Dragons have been known to seek out others of the Dragon Clan and follow them for days or weeks, especially in times of danger. It’s happened recently to Fleet, and others. But it is not true bonding.” Camilla gave the
wolf a final pat and stood.
Shell asked, “So, what do you think?”
“I think we should start for Fleming. We have things to do.”
She’s avoiding answering me. “We can still talk while we’re on the road.”
When she didn’t respond, he stood and started back to the road, head down, thinking. The Red dragon remained in contact, if barely, the wolf was ranging out to his left moving twice as fast and would soon be far ahead of them. Camilla walked almost silently behind. He missed Henry and his innocent talk and endless questions. And as he reached the road and turned west, the city of Fleming and the promise of what might happen stood ahead under a pall of dark smoke.
Camilla caught up and walked beside him. She remained silent for a long time, then said, “We should discuss a plan. I had one when I was going there alone, but you should tell me what you think.”
I should be honest. “I’m scared, is what I think. The grasslands are a different world, and the stories we heard about fighting against an invasion by Breslau were. . . romantic and exciting. I wanted to be part of it, but since leaving home, I’ve learned how little I know.”
Camilla said, “I know the feeling. Everyone I meet thinks I’m an expert on Breslau, but all I did was escape the King’s men to live with the Bear Mountain Clan. But, if the family messengers are right, there are a lot of us trying to stop Breslau, and we’d better succeed because there is nowhere else for us. It’s win or else.”
Shell took hold of her arm and made her stop. “Listen, there is one other part of my story I have not told you yet.”
“Yet? Like you were going to? Or not?” She yanked her arm away.
“It wasn’t relevant until now. Actually, I told you part of it at the cabin but got sidetracked. I was going to tell you all of it. Remember, Myron kept my friend because he had important information?”
“Shut up and tell me.”
Despite her impossible demand, he thought of how to begin. In other circumstances, Shell would have laughed at her statement, but kept his voice earnest and conversational. “Remember, I met another traveler on the way here? His name is Quester, at least now it is. We traveled together a few days and found out we were both Dragon Clan, but he’s from a family that lives near the mountain on the other side of the grasslands.”
“There are no mountains beyond the grasslands, and no Dragon Clan lives there.”
“I thought so too, but we’re both wrong. They do. And beyond those Blue Mountains are more grasslands and then another sea, with at least five kingdoms and thousands of Dragon Clan. Quester said there are several Families spread out, just like here in Princeton.”
“How do you know he is Dragon Clan?”
“I saw his back.”
“I accept that part of his tale. What’s difficult to believe are more mountains and even another sea to the far East. We know nothing about this concept and I personally, have a hard time with it. If this is true, it may help our families. Also, I can think of no reason for him to tell such a lie.”
Shell said, “The world does not end at the grasslands. There must be more if you go far enough. It only makes sense.”
“I’m not saying it’s untrue. Just that it’s hard to believe.”
“Myron hesitated too, then he believed. He’s already spreading the word there might be an alternative for the Dragon Clan if Breslau invades and wins our lands.”
“It’s unbelievable,” she said. “But gives me hope.”
“I’ve thought about it. If you cross the grasslands what do you reach? The end of the world? A cliff you fall off if you go too far? I mean, there must be something.”
Camilla pursed her lips and remained silent as she turned and started walking down the road again. Shell meekly followed, giving the wolf stern instructions to stay out of sight of the travelers on the road. He received a snort of derision mixed with humor as if to say, ‘of course I will, silly'.
“I’ve never heard of these people to the east,” she said. “Where is your friend now?”
“Myron kept him to pick his brain before he sent messengers to all the Families with the information. He will follow us when Myron lets him.”
“In case Breslau is successful with their invasion. It makes sense and gives us a backdoor. Well done, Shell.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Nothing but give the Dragon Clan a chance to survive and perhaps join with others of our kind. Do they have dragons there?”
“They do. Quester knew what bonding is, too.”
“Okay, more about that later. We’re getting close to Fleming and still don’t have a plan,” Camilla pointed out.
Shell looked ahead and found at least five or six groups of people on the road walking in the same direction, most arriving on the road from smaller side roads or farms. They carried goods to town, in bundles slung over their shoulders, in pushcarts, and even a small wagon pulled by two young men. Beyond them, the first of the buildings drew his attention. One stood taller as if it was a second house built on top of another.
The farms along the sides of the road seemed smaller and shabbier. The crops were thin, the animals thinner, and the road harder to walk upon with the ruts and potholes. What had been a fairly smooth surface was chewed up with the passing of hooves, wheels, and feet. A misstep would send him sprawling or injure a leg. He watched the ground instead of Fleming, but each time he looked up it was closer.
Shell said, “I’ve placed a few small silver coins where I can reach them, and some copper ones, too. I think we should find an inn, keep our mouths shut, and explore a few days, saying almost nothing to anyone. How’s that for a plan?”
“But, when we are asked?”
“You are my sister. Our father sent us to . . .”
Camilla laughed. “See, you need a story because you’re not very quick while thinking on your feet.”
Shell hurriedly continued, “To meet our uncle, who is supposed to arrive by ship from down south near Racine. He was buying seed, and we will help him get it home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Northwood Kingdom, near Castle Warrington?” He flashed a self-satisfied smile at having an answer ready.
She flashed one in return, then said in a little-girl voice, “But Warrington has a seaport. Why does our uncle wish to unload here when he can do it in Warrington much closer to his home?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Exactly. We live inland, Northwood, but nearer the Raging Mountains. It’s closer to reach by road from here, and the road is easier to travel. We will need a small wagon and perhaps two mules, as well as supplies for three people for twenty days to get the amount of grain our father wants to plant. For the last two growing seasons, we have lost nearly half our crop to rust, and the new grain is resistant to rust.”
Shell looked at her in a new light. She was quick to think on her feet and an excellent liar. Maybe she should do the talking, and I become the dullard brother?
Camilla continued as if spinning a fairy tale. “I’m sure you are good at something, and we should take advantage of it, but talking is not one of them. Would you consider letting me do the talking?”
“I was going to suggest something like that,” he said.
“Oh, I’m sure you were,” she winked, teasing him and not believing a word of what he said.
Shell ignored the heat rising up his neck. “Really!”
“Um, and what else were you going to suggest?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Shell still hadn’t answered her with more of the cover story when they passed more two-story buildings and spotted one three stories high. Instead of a traveler on the road here and there, they now walked with others only steps ahead, and more behind. A blacksmith pounded metal on an anvil, the sharp sounds setting a pace for the feet of the people. When the hammer rang, feet touched the ground at the same time, some with the left foot, others with the right, but it made an interesting sight.
The city spread out over a long hillside, all the way to the Endless Sea. Ships were at anchor in deeper water, and others tied up to piers. Even at a distance, they were from the waterfront, they could see cargo being shifted, moved, loaded, unloaded, or being stored under roofs to protect the contents from the wet.
The air felt wet as if a fog had just lifted, which it may have. The bricks that made up the road and most of the buildings appeared damp. People had their collars raised to protect their ears from a chilly wind off the water.
A man lounging beside a doorway offered the best ale in the city for the cheapest price, but one look at him convinced Shell he didn’t want to drink there, even if he did drink ale and it was free. The knife worn at the man’s waist was too prominent, the rings on his fingers too flashy, and the smile too contrived.
A few doors down a woman promised to introduce him to another twice as pretty as Camilla, and more willing to be friendly. Another doorway held a man whispering that inside were honest gambling games of every sort, and the owner was very drunk. Everyone inside was winning, and Shell could walk away with a small fortune. It was information for only a few, but somehow Shell had become included.
Camilla was more upset by each offer, and offended, if not insulted by most. Shell found himself enjoying their friendly chatter, and often as not, he exchanged a few words with the barkers, then begging off, usually pleading the lack of coin.
They turned off that street in favor of a wider one, with more respectable people walking and less lounging in doorways. The people were better dressed, or wearing work clothes, hurried about their duties. It paralleled the waterfront and provided glimpses of the ships between buildings.
A woman in a long gray skirt of a color that matched her long brown hair swept a porch with vigor, and above her hung a small sign that offered rooms for rent.
