by LeRoy Clary
Tyler said, “We’re not the first to try sneaking past.”
“More patrols on the river and the banks upriver, but here they control it all from above.”
“How do we move ahead?”
Bender said, “I’m not about to let these half-trained civilian Cabot-soldiers capture me.”
“You see a weakness?”
“I do,” Bender said. “We know we can’t move south nearer the river, but they’re watching from lookouts on those hills and mountains, right? Few, if any local patrols.”
“That’s my take.”
“There must be deer, cows, elk, bears, and who knows what else down here? But they’re too far away to distinguish much. Men though, are easy to spot, even from up there. Upright, moving steadily, and following familiar trails.”
“That would be us,” Tyler said, just to hold up his end of the conversation.
“That’s what we change. I suspect there are no patrols this far from the river, so we hide from the lookouts and move on through.” Bender moved close to a stand of trees and stood between them and the mountains where they couldn’t be seen. He pulled his knife and starting cutting branches from limbs.
Selecting three, he shoved the branches into his waistband on his left side and fanned out the smaller branches that stood much higher than his head. They tended to fall and shift, but that didn’t slow Bender. He removed more branches and inserted them into the neck of his shirt, and down to his waist, and inside the straps of the backpack he wore on his chest.
Tyler watched, but didn’t understand, and didn’t offer help.
Bender turned, so his left side faced Tyler. “Pretend you’re up on that hill. What will you see?”
“A walking bush.”
Bender grinned. “Exactly. If we hide our left sides, they may see movement, but won’t recognize it as men. During an average day, they probably see a hundred animals, but their eyes are searching for the two-legged kind. Also, we should move mostly between dawn and a little after sunrise, and at sunset, and not on the regular trails.”
“Long shadows and dim light,” Tyler added. “It’ll make our trip take longer.”
“But we may slip right past them. Knowing where they are and what they’re looking for turns into an advantage for us.”
Tyler was busy cutting leafy branches for himself. He cut smaller ones, but he chose those that spread out more and had fuller foliage to conceal him. “We’ll get better at this, but if we move slow and erratic, I think they’ll ignore us, even if they do see us.”
“I hope so. I’d hate to let them capture us while we look like deformed green turkeys.”
“Lucky helped us back there,” Tyler said, adjusting the last of his branches and tried walking. His legs moved stiffly, and he needed to take care not to pass under low-hanging branches, but overall it was not too bad.
“Maybe we should cut some smaller branches to hide the dog.”
Tyler paused in his experimental walking. “I hope you’re kidding.”
Bender smirked and reached for his backpacks. He slipped the one containing food onto his chest, but when he lifted the other, it was empty. His eyes darted around, but the dragon was not in sight.
Tyler glanced at his backpack and found it lying nearby, and flat. His dragon had also escaped. “Maybe we’re better off without them.”
Bender tossed the empty pack over his shoulder and said, “Come on. Let’s head out.” But he waited for Tyler—or for the dragons to appear.
Tyler noticed that not only had the dragon bitten through the straps, but it had eaten a hole from the inside of the pack into the pocket where he’d stored the claw. It had fallen into the bottom of the backpack where the dragon had slept. Probably the smell comforted it.
When Tyler removed it, Bender searched for his and smiled. The other claw was also inside the main compartment of his backpack, not in the small outside pocket where it had been placed. “We should have expected that, I guess.”
Bender snapped, “Don’t get to thinking they’re cute or cuddly. Those nasty things are vicious, deadly predators. In a year, whole armies will cringe at the sight of them.”
“They grow that fast?” Bender asked.
“Hell, I don’t know anything about them. Make it five years, what difference does it make?”
“Four.”
“Four what?” Tyler asked.
“Four years. It makes a difference of four years.” Bender turned and began walking with awkward steps, one leg moving stiffly with the branches sticking up into the air while the other moved normally. He moved in stutters and lurches, pausing between, like some strange stick-animal might, but definitely unlike any man.
Tyler followed suit, but his eyes kept returning to the ridge as he wondered if they still might be spotted. If someone up there watched, he couldn’t see them, and if he could, they would be so small he couldn’t make out their details because of the distance. However, if a watcher up there spotted them, the same should be true. They would hopefully have an impression of movement, no details, but their eyes wouldn’t tell them more. The watchers wouldn’t think they watched men with the odd shapes and lurching movements. They would think it deer or bear.
Bender said, almost as if talking to himself, “Keep closer to the trees on your left to help hide us from those up in the hills.”
Lucky, the dog, moved in darts and runs, always ahead, but waiting expectantly until they almost caught up. If there were any patrols or Cabots on watch ahead, he’d provide a warning. Tyler sort of hoped he did find one of them, alone. He’d still like to question a Cabot and gather information. But knowing where the Cabots watched from provided a huge advantage in how they moved avoiding detection.
They moved slowly, adjusting their speed and route to keep a wall of shrubs or trees nearby to protect them as much as possible. Instead of only traveling at first light and dusk, as agreed upon, they kept on, feeling confident.
Near mid-day, Bender said, “Those hills where they’re watching us from are getting closer.”
“Want to move away? Closer to the river?”
“It won’t help. I think this is the bottleneck that Prim spoke of. The river is probably also closer so we can’t increase the distance.” Bender slowed their pace after adjusting the branches they used for camouflage.
Tyler added a few more by stuffing them into his shirt and said, “Isn’t this about the time we were going to meet with that girl? I hope she doesn’t get into trouble waiting for us when we don’t show up.”
Bender turned, his anger and frustration clear. “We would have helped her if we could.”
“Her name is Prim. You could use it. I know we would have helped, but I feel guilty and angry.”
“Don’t take it out on me. When you get down to basics, we owe ourselves. That’s all. Don’t you think I wanted to help her?”
Tyler hesitated before speaking, but knew Bender’s anger emanated from frustration, not him. The decision to desert their army still weighed heavily on both, and now that had placed them in an ever-narrowing slice of land where their lives might end quicker than in any battle they’d been involved in. Coupling that with the unknowns downriver was enough to raise anyone’s anger.
Tyler finally said, “I can see us striking back at these damn people in some way.”
“I know. You always want to correct the ills of the world, but the two of us can’t fight the Cabots. We’ll take care of ourselves, and that will be enough.”
“Maybe we can’t, now,” Tyler said, drawing Bender's attention so quickly he almost tripped. “But with a little help from our two black babies that should be in our backpacks, maybe we will return and even things up. Give them a little dragon justice.”
As if knowing they were being discussed, the tiny dragons sprinted from under a stand of trees, squealing and squeaking in pure joy. They hopped and leaped before splitting up and each rushed to its momma. Dried blood and gore from a recent kill matted on their mouths,
necks, and chests. They stunk. When they pulled their lips back, rows of menacingly sharp teeth were exposed. Tyler had the impression that if they wanted, the dragons could already defeat him and Bender and eat them.
But their actions belied their possibilities to come. Tyler’s dragon rubbed against his leg like a cat he’d once owned. It made a soft growl, not unlike the cat’s purr. When Tyler reached down and stroked it along the sharp ridge on its back, he felt the shiver of pure adoration. He tossed the empty pack to the ground, and the dragon squirmed inside, curled up and refused to move.
Bender slung his pack over his shoulder and said, “I guess we’re not rid of them, yet.”
“At least they’re helping feed themselves.”
“Do they look bigger to you?” Bender asked.
“Come on. They’re only two days old.”
“Mine feels heavier, too.”
Tyler wanted to correct Bender, but his also felt heavier. Am I imagining it? In two or three days, how much can an animal grow? “Hey, how long does it take a dragon to reach full size?”
“I have no idea. You asked that before, but I’m saying they have grown.”
Tyler kept thinking about it as they walked. His mind seized on a single idea. “Hey, a full-grown dragon stands so tall that it looks down on the roof of a house. Right? It strikes me that these things have a lot of growing to do.”
“So?” Bender demanded, but smiling. “We’re back to that?”
“So, of all the animals I can think of, they are adults, or at least almost full-size in six months or less, even if they are not developed. Bears, cows, horses, goats, and deer all reach most of their size in six months.”
Bender paused and turned. “I see where you’re going. Doing a little quick calculating, if they’re like other animals, these things should be the size of goats in a couple of weeks. Cows in a month. Unless they’re like people. We are still babies at a year old.”
Tyler shrugged. “So, in a month, we are possibly going to be leading two dragons as tall as us, and wanting to eat anything that moves.”
“Well, if the full size of the animal is an indicator, they’ll reach that in a lot less than a month. Maybe a week. The good news is that we’re their mothers. They won’t eat us, but everything else better watch out.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Cow-size in a week?” Tyler said in a hoarse whisper intended only for his ears. “What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?”
Bender said, “Yesterday we talked about carrying enough food to feed them. Consider that statement now.”
“I thought we had enough food in our packs for weeks.”
“They obviously went hunting together this morning. I wonder what they killed?”
Tyler said, “Think about what you said. They went hunting together. They hunt as a team. That scares me, too.”
“I sure wish we knew more about dragons.”
“Back in the army, I was content to shovel dragon shit. But, I didn’t want to be near them or smell them all the time. I need to wash my hands when I touch them, or they smell so bad I can’t put them near my face. I’ve heard of dragons snapping off owner’s heads. I’ve heard worse tales, too,” Tyler said.
“Keep them to yourself. We have another problem. How are we going to sneak past any guards and keep the dragons quiet while we do it?”
Tyler had already imagined the two of them almost past an enemy outpost when the dragons started squealing and giving away their position. He’d kept it to himself, but now Bender brought it up. They had crossed a road earlier, being careful to leave no footprints behind. Then they heard the baying of hounds in the distance, taking up a scent. Bender paused and listened along with Tyler.
“Getting closer. I think they’re after us,” Tyler said.
“Run?”
“They’ll catch up with us, and then we’ll be too spent from running to fight. That’s what the handlers want. I say we make a stand here.”
Bender glanced around at the small clearing and nodded. It provided room to move, dodge, and fight. He slipped the packs off his back and pulled his knife and sharpening stone. Tyler moved his packs to the edge of the trees, so he didn’t trip over them. When Bender drew blood on his thumb from touching the edge of his blade, he tossed the stone to Tyler.
“Getting closer,” Bender said as the sounds of the dogs drew closer, moving aside to put distance between them so they wouldn’t interfere with each other in a fight. He pulled the branches from his pants and tossed them aside. Tyler followed suit.
Lucky growled at the howling and moved to one side of the clearing where he crouched, the hair on the back of his neck beginning to stand. The hounds were about to emerge from the trees when Tyler noticed his dragon, climb from the backpack and stand on its two hind feet. It hissed. Small wings emerged from behind the forelegs and fluttered angrily. An ear-piercing screech sounded, followed by an equal one from the other dragon.
But Tyler didn’t have time to watch them. Two large hounds followed by two stocky guard-dogs raced from the path and entered the clearing. The bloodhounds charged at Tyler, the larger guard dogs went for Bender. Tyler crouched, his knife held horizontal, his knees flexed. The first dog to leap would receive a savage slice from side to side. After that, he’d depend on training and fight to the death, his blade swinging and slashing.
The dog charged. Tyler held up his left forearm for protection and gripped the knife in his other hand as if his life depended on holding it tight enough, ready to slice the underbelly of the dog when it reached him. But, as the dog leaped, it was knocked sideways by Lucky, who intercepted it and now held the hound by its throat as they hit the ground and rolled.
Again, Tyler couldn’t take the time to watch. The second dog raced at him, teeth bared, eyes intent on his. It leaped, jaws extended. His dragon darted between them. It reached the dog in the air and leaped onto its back, ripping and tearing fur, skin, and chunks of flesh before they landed in a heap. The dog twisted, rolled, and howled, forgetting about Tyler.
The dragon intensified its attack, claws digging in, mouth spitting chunks of the dog as it freed its mouth for another savage bite.
Finally, the dog managed to throw the dragon off as it rolled and then raced off into the trees as fast as possible on three legs, whimpering the whole way and trailing a stream of bright red blood. Tyler looked to Lucky and found him standing over the dead body of the other dog, panting and ready for more fight. Turning to Bender, he found one guard dog with its throat sliced open so deep its head lay at an odd angle. The other dog lay beside the first, twisted and torn, the second dragon standing triumphantly on his chest fluttering its wings in triumph.
“We should leave quickly,” Bender said.
“No. The dog handlers will sound the alarm and bring so many more Cabots with them we’d never escape.” They ran to the path where the dogs had first emerged. After a dozen steps, they met three Cabots charging ahead in pursuit of their dogs, all with hands empty of weapons. Who chases people without drawing their weapons?
Tyler ran past the first Cabot, his knife slicing from arm to arm across the man’s stomach until he reached the second man. His speed carried him past that one too, but as he passed, he used the handle of his knife to strike him high on his left cheek. The blow jarred Tyler to his shoulder, but the third Cabot was already spinning to race away and sound the warning.
He dodged Tyler’s wild rush and sprinted away, down the path. It would only take one of them to raise the alarm and flood the area with Cabots. Tyler turned to run after him. A black blur sped past his knee. A dragon. It caught up with the man and leaped, grabbing hold of the man’s back with tiny claws before sinking a mouthful of teeth into his neck. He fell and rolled, screaming and trying to dislodge the dragon. Tyler kicked his head when he got there.
Tyler pulled the dragon away and waited. No more Cabots followed the three down the trail. The dragon circled and sniffed the Cabot, who lay beside the path. He w
atched the dragon with wild eyes. Tyler used his foot to shove it aside when it appeared it might take another bite.
Tyler unfastened the man’s belt and tossed it and the sword to the side. He removed the quiver and bow, but placed them beside him where he could reach them when he left.
“Stand up,” Bender ordered.
Once on his feet, Tyler shoved the man ahead. The bruise on his forehead from the kick already swelled, and a trickle of blood ran down where the skin had split. More blood ran freely down his back where the dragon had attacked him. Bender had the other Cabot that Tyler had struck with his fist, pushing him to the clearing. The first man that Tyler had sliced open appeared dead.
Back in the clearing, Bender knocked his man down and knelt on his back. Bender grabbed a fist full of hair; the head pulled back to expose the neck. His knife was poised to cut. “You destroy the lives of good people, so you can live comfortably. If you had captured us, we wouldn’t have lived to sundown. You would have let your dogs rip us apart. Give me one reason why you should ever see the sun set again.”
“What do you want from me?” he asked, tears streaming from his eyes.
“Information. Quick, accurate, and complete.”
“I’m not a traitor.”
Bender turned his head so he could see the other man that Tyler had brought into the clearing. He snarled, “We only need one of you to talk. The first one. The other dies.”
Bender’s dragon darted forward until its snout almost touched the man’s nose. It pulled its lips back and exposed the jagged teeth. “I’ll talk,” he said.
“Me too,” the other sputtered, turning to look at Tyler with pleading eyes. “I’ll tell you anything.”
Tyler grabbed his shoulder and shoved him to the ground away from the other man. As he fell, a knife appeared in his hand, and he lashed out at Tyler’s leg. Lucky charged before the knife cut. The dog grabbed the forearm in its mouth and twisted as it bit down. The knife fell. Lucky held on, snarling and ripping flesh. Tyler didn’t call the dog off.
