by LeRoy Clary
Bender reached out and stroked the dragon sitting near his leg, while still grinning. “How’re you doing Thunder? Do you like your new name?”
“That’s Rage, not Thunder, damn you. Don’t confuse them by calling them the wrong name.”
Bender removed his hand and went back to rowing, properly chagrined. Tyler wore a similar grin as Bender. Tyler couldn’t tell the difference in the dragons, either. But it felt good to chastise Bender even if it meant the names would have to stick. He looked out at the other boats, and the grim, determined men in them. All of them had lost friends or relatives to the Cabots, and all were ready to fight. What amazed Tyler most was that the secrets of the Cabot mines had been kept for so long.
The villagers had suspected the Cabots were in some way at fault, but the disappearances had taken place over several years, and it seemed nobody had ever escaped the Cabot clutches, so the story never spread. Now that they knew the facts, most of them wanted to drop their plows and hoes to grab their swords. They wanted to strike out north and fight, but Bender had made a rousing speech and warned them that if they rushed off to the north, it would do more harm than good. It would also warn the Cabots to be prepared for more attacks.
All the villagers had settled down, especially after Bender offered to pay for all the ale for the evening. The following day, after the hangovers had lessened, a planning meeting had been held by most of the men in the village attending. Judge had presided.
They decided to depart for Trenton the following morning in the boats, and gather information while recruiting men for an army. A small, well-armed army, but large enough to stand against the Cabots, and crush them. Bender had said in his speech, and Tyler agreed, the Cabots were just well-trained guards, not soldiers.
“What’s the difference?” a gnarled old man asked, as he had raised his cane for attention.
Bender, ever the one with the silver words spilling from his mouth, said, “That is a good question. The Cabots are armed and trained to defeat one or two men at a time. They use clubs because their intention isn’t to kill their prisoners so they can use them to work the mines. They only kill when they must, but they have no organization or military strategy for large engagements.”
“How many men do the Cabots have?” Another asked.
Bender said, “A few hundred, I’d guess.”
“We’re going to fight three hundred?” the same old man wailed in protest. Others passed looks between themselves that told of their fears in the numbers.
But Bender only smiled and raised both of his arms to draw their attention. “Yes, they have three or maybe even four hundred men, but remember, some are guarding the mines, others the northern border, and more between. I don’t think there are more than fifty at any single location, and most of those fifty are not trained to fight an army.”
The men relaxed.
Bender went on, “Listen to me. I’ve avoided every engagement of the Unity Army but the first. I do not like to fight unless I know for sure I’m going to win, or the girl in question is a real beauty.”
Laughter followed. The questions had continued all afternoon, the ale flowed, and in the end, most of the men in the village had volunteered, but Bender didn’t want them to fight alone. He wanted the village to supply lodging and food while the army trained, but Bender would foot the entire bill for the services.
Bender had told them, “We’ll only get one chance to surprise them and defeat the Cabot organization before they learn to hire more men and teach them to fight like an army. We do not wish to fail and give them that opportunity.”
A few villagers had insisted on joining them, mostly men who had sons or wives missing who they suspected might had been abducted. Most of those men were on the boats ahead and behind. Tyler argued with Bender that the personal involvement of them was worth more than troops who would fight for gold.
When arriving, the town of Trenton filled Tyler with trepidation. The enormous spread of the city, the huge number of streets, and the height of the buildings all told of more people than he’d ever seen. All of Unity couldn’t equal what he saw in the one city, and he wondered what else might be downriver that put this to shame.
The riverbank was lined with docks, breakwaters, piers, and warehouses. Ships so large they used sails were tied to some. Behind that, built on the slope of a hill was the city, street after street filled with men, women, children, dogs, pigs, chickens, goats, horses, and cats. Beyond the larger buildings in the business district stood rows upon rows of houses.
Judge angled the boat he rowed to one of several smaller docks. A man greeted him, and a coin or two changed hands. The four rowboats tied up and emptied. After forcing Thunder and Rage into their backpacks, they all moved up a street as a group. As an innkeeper, Judge knew of three inns in Trenton, and he knew the owners of each.
He took them directly up the hill to a large building that may have been a barn at one time. Walking slower, with the heavy weight of the backpacks holding them back, Tyler and Bender took up the rear. Even Lucky raced well ahead, his nose sniffing and his eyes busy with anything that moved, which was a lot.
Tyler felt a tug on his backpack at the same time he heard a howl of pain. He spun to face the problem. A man missing a front tooth cradled a bare arm streaming blood. His eyes were on the torn flesh but quickly raised to meet Tyler’s. The pained expression turned to fear. Before Tyler understood what happened, the man spun and sprinted down a narrow alley.
“Serves him right,” Judge said, approaching Tyler. “Damned pickpockets are everywhere. I should have warned you. Or him.”
Bender chuckled, “Sort of had his arm bitten off from reaching where it didn’t belong. That might teach him a lesson to keep his hands in his own pockets.”
Tyler finally realized the man had been trying to steal whatever was in his backpack, not knowing a nasty, evil creature resided inside. He chuckled, too, but decided to keep a better watch for thieves. The presence of the dragons was not necessary, but it prevented a lot of questions from being asked, and no more greedy hands reached inside.
After they had reached the Green Piper Inn under the green sign with a man’s face and flute, Judge negotiated lodging rooms for all of them, two to a room. They settled at a table in the only dining room and discussed the next step, which was paying a printer for handbills to post. After a lengthy discussion, they didn’t mention the Cabots or much else of detail except that fighting men with their own weapons were being hired at far more than an honest man could earn. They didn’t want to tip off the Cabots that they were hiring men to attack them, thus the vague handbills.
They decided to ferry the men they hired back to the village in the boats and return empty for more. Judge had an observation. “You’re going to get more response than you want, but most are unworthy. How are you going to decide who goes with us?”
Bender called the innkeeper over to the table. “We need a space out back to test our men. A little fighting, archery, and maybe some privacy.”
“Privies are out back. Fenced. Space to fight back there, and many have, but you pay a fair price for any damages. Make damn sure you don’t fire any arrows at my neighbors.”
“Deal,” Bender said, “and a little extra for helping us out when we settle the bill.”
“That would be now,” the innkeeper said. “Before you drink and sleep.”
Bender protested for laughs, “I thought you were a friend of Judge.”
“I am. When I stay at his inn, I pay him up front, too. That’s how come we stay friends.”
The handbills were printed quickly and distributed by a gaggle of eager boys and girls, and the first potential soldiers in the army of Bender and Tyler arrived before dinner. They waited outside in an orderly group. When informed of them, Bender went to the door with the intent of asking them inside for interviews. What he found were more men standing in small groups than the inn would hold.
The dog and dragons were penned in a tool shed out
back, along with plenty of food and a guard from the village to make sure they didn’t escape. From the reports, all three animals were asleep and calm.
Bender said, “Tyler, go out and eliminate any you don’t like. Send the others in one at a time.”
“Why me?”
“You’re going to fight beside them so you should have a say in this.”
“Why can’t I stay inside and drink ale with you?” Tyler snarled on his way out. Looking out over the sea of men from the vantage of the single step, he called out, “Who was here first?”
A man raised his arm. “I guess I was.”
Tyler said, “Stand over near that wall in order of your arrival times. Form a line down the street where you’re not blocking the damn road.”
The men shifted, and eventually, a sloppy line formed, almost single-file. Tyler approached the first man. “Experience?”
The man may as well have begun with his birth. He hadn’t reached adulthood when Tyler snapped, with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder, “Go on inside.”
For the next in line, he said, “Why are you here? Make it short.”
“Heard you needed men for a good cause.”
“That matters to you?”
The man nodded. Tyler sent him inside. He didn’t ask about their military experience. It either showed in their demeanor or didn’t. He dismissed many, far more than he sent inside. His questions became more oblique as he wanted to know who they were, and as the second candidate had said, were they there to fight for a good cause? Fighting for gold is one thing, but taking sides for a good cause is different. A soldier who cared about why he fought was worth two of the others.
That was his first premise in making selections. The second was if they showed signs of military experience. He’d leave the rest up to Bender.
One after another, they were admitted or rejected. Tyler stepped back onto the top step and looked at the length of the line. It was twice as long as it had been at the beginning, despite all the men he interviewed, and more were lining up. He hadn’t eaten, it was dark, and he told the rest of the men to return in the morning.
Inside, he found Bender with eight or nine potential soldiers. After a few words with each, he made his choices and sent them on their way. Most had demonstrated fighting skills behind the inn. Tyler said, “I’m hungry.”
“Then, let’s eat,” Bender said in a weary voice. “This is harder than expected, but we have half our army.”
“Half?” Tyler said, falling into a chair. “I just sent home more men than we’ve already talked to, and in the morning, they’ll be back.”
Judge pulled up a chair. “We don’t want them knowing we’re going after the Cabots, but any that mention hating them in conversation get accepted. I found two that we’re going to want to isolate and talk with. They don’t know each other, but both claim to have worked for the Cabots.”
Tyler sat his mug on the table harder than intended. “I didn’t think anyone ever left them.”
“Neither did I. One admits to deserting. The other gave no reasons, and I didn’t want to press it and give the impression we were interested in the Cabots.”
Tyler glanced at Bender but said nothing about deserters from an army. Both understood there were valid reasons for doing so, at least for them. “Did either say, why?”
“He said he couldn’t accept what they were doing.”
“The other?” Bender asked.
“I don’t know. But I didn’t want to let them know I was interested in the Cabots or every recruit out there would know that’s what we want to hear and lie to us so we’d select them. Besides, word would travel back to the Cabots. I have no doubt they have spies here. I think most of their army is recruited from around Trenton.” Judge sat back and waited.
Bender said, “I agree. When we get back to your village, we’ll talk to those two. Alone.”
Tyler decided to eat and sleep. He’d check on the dragons in the morning. A minstrel took up position in the corner and strummed a soft song on a lute to attract attention and begin his performance. As the song progressed, it increased in pace and men stomped their feet to the familiar tune. Some clapped. Others joined in the chorus. Three pretty girls served the ale, food, and wine, teasing and laughing with the customers.
Bender leaned close as he pushed his mug away. “Not for me tonight.”
Tyler reacted as if he’d never heard such sacrilege. They were still arguing as they went up the stairs. Despite the pounding, stomping, and raucous singing in the room directly below, they were asleep in far less time than expected, and the noise didn’t bother either one.
The next morning, they were rested and ready to continue. Tyler stepped outside of the inn to find the line of men twice as long. He spun and went back inside. “You won’t believe this.”
“Maybe we should hire more?”
“I think so. The main force of a hundred and maybe two other units of twenty-five to attack the mines and hillsides at the same time?” Tyler talked as he thought of the items. They had more than enough gold, so that was not an issue. He’d expected raising an army large enough would be hard, but now that there were plenty of volunteers, he decided that expanding their goals might help.
Bender agreed. “The boats are already taking men up the river and will return for more. We need more boats.”
Tyler interviewed men, sending away many while allowing more to speak with Bender for a final determination. Judge sat with Bender, asking a few questions and rejecting one now and then. More left when they failed to meet the critical standards of fighting out behind the inn. As the mid-day meal approached, the line outside looked no shorter.
Bender came to the doorway and called, “No more.”
The waiting men grumbled, but when Tyler said he might need more in a few days, they dispersed without incident. He went to the tool shed and found the dog and dragons playing happily, chasing and tumbling in the confined space.
Glad to see they were doing well again, he took note of the growth of the dragons. Just during the overnight, they looked to have grown larger. They couldn’t carry them in backpacks much longer. What the dragons needed were leashes. And muzzles. He’d seen Dragon Masters training a few of the chicks, and they used leashes and collars with spikes on the inside so they could discipline them.
He left the shed and asked Judge, “Can anyone in the village make leashes for our dragons?”
“They’ll just chew through them and eat what’s left,” Bender said before Judge could answer.
“Not if the leashes are made of chain,” Tyler said with a grin.
“You might be right,” Bender said, “but you might be wrong. Those two animals are like nothing I’ve ever encountered.”
Judge leaped into the conversation to prevent them from arguing. “The blacksmith has chains of different sizes. He makes them from scrap, so he should have something that will do.”
Bender said, “Change of subject. Our men have weapons, but we need more. I want each man to have a sword and a bow, and I want them to know how to use them. Judge went to an armorer this morning and purchased fifty of each, and plenty of arrows, too.”
“Uniforms?” Tyler asked, impressed with all they’d accomplished.
“That is an issue we don’t have to consider,” Bender smiled as he answered. “Since the Cabots wear uniforms, we don’t have to, and we’ll know who is who because of that, but we still need to know that a Cabot didn’t put on his regular clothes that morning. We’re thinking of tying red ribbons on our weapons. Not much, just enough so we know our friends.”
With that settled, and a hundred other details, Bender and Tyler climbed into their boat in the late afternoon, and Bender again took the oars. As soon as the boat cleared the dock, he let Thunder and Rage climb out of the backpacks and snoop around the boat. Lucky seemed to have forgiven whichever of them had bitten off his ear, and he curled up on the floorboards and went to sleep.
The dragons smelled. They
spit at anything or anyone they didn’t like, and blood coated their necks and chests, having dried in all the wrinkles. Their tiny teeth had meat trapped between them, much of it rotted from the rank smell when they let out a breath. They constantly farted, a smell that caused Bender to row faster, thinking that might help escape the stench. And they constantly fought each other, drawing blood now and then. Their spats came close to tipping over the boat twice.
Tyler grabbed Rage to pull it off Thunder, and received another nasty bite on his arm. “I thought they weren’t supposed to bite their mother.”
“That was Thunder you grabbed,” Bender said, smiling.
“Besides the collars and leashes, we’re getting colored rings put on them so we can tell them apart.”
Bender said, “I can tell them apart. I don’t know what your problem is.”
“Cannot.”
“Didn’t get myself bitten, did I?”
When they arrived at the village, the inn was doing a brisk business. All three of Judge’s pretty daughters were serving food and drink, one of them still kept her eyes on Tyler and flashed a welcoming smile in his direction that Bender claimed as his. The men were being housed in a barn they used for a barracks. The farm animals had been sent elsewhere, and over a hundred men now called it home.
While waiting for their first of many mugs of ale, the blacksmith found them and sat at their table, an anxious smile on his bearded face. He said, “Got something made for you.”
He placed the two talons on the table, each with a double set of leather thongs to circle their necks. “In case one breaks,” he explained. “You wouldn’t want to lose one of those things, not after what I heard you went through to get them.”
Tyler cast a disgusted look at Bender, but then reached for the larger claw. “Did you polish them?”
“Yup, boiled them first to get the last of the meat off, then rubbed a sliver of beeswax into them ‘til they took on that shine. You like them?”
Tyler did like. The portion of the talon that had been colored dark gray now gleamed the blackest of blacks. The white tip reflected light as if it was a gemstone, and the strong leather thongs had been dyed black to match the claws. “I couldn’t have asked for better. Bender will pay you. I’ll see to it he leaves you a little something extra for the fine job.”
