Dragon Clan #3: Fleet's Story

by LeRoy Clary

  But he worried. Among normals, a rip in his shirt revealing the design on his back could cost him his life. He needed experience being around and speaking with people. Camilla would give him the excuse, and she’d be there to cover any slips.

  However, their real goal was to eventually locate the unknown person who could order a dragon to attack a palace full of people and topple a dungeon wall. Worse, from Raymer’s description, he suspected that whoever that person might be, he or she was bonded with the dragon, and was not acting alone.

  Only adults bond with a dragon. The legs that Raymer saw when the apples were delivered to the window of his cell were either those of a boy child or very young girl, so not a bonded one. The hood pulled over the head prevented him from seeing who it was, but the apple deliverer was short, moving with the uncoordinated grace of a fawn. A child under the age of twelve, but older than six or seven. That meant there was, at least, two of them, and that hinted that there may be more.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The fish had burned black over the fire while Fleet was lost in thought. He removed them and tried scraping the blackened skin and flesh with his knife. He could always catch more so it was not the worst thing that could happen.

  What was worse, is that he saw Camilla lying there watching him, a faint smile on her lips.

  Fleet, looked at the fish that had burned while he had sat and reviewed the events at the Summer Palace, said, “I like my fish cooked crisp.”

  “So I see,” Camilla said, not bothering to hide her smile as she touched one with the tip of her finger. “I’ll go catch and cook a couple for me since I like mine an even brown, not charcoal.”

  He took a bite, determined to save face, but the fish tasted like yesterday’s campfire ash. Tossing them aside, he called, “If you wouldn’t mind, catch a few for me.”

  “Only if I cook them, too.” She laughed.

  After digging a hole and depositing the burned fish into it, he wandered down to the stream and sat on a rock facing her. Tradition dictated they never leave a dirty camp or evidence of their passing. People following them could tell too much about what they found. Best to leave nothing. “We made camp early because I want to talk. We can do some planning without old people telling us what they think we should do.”

  Two fish already lay on the bank beside Camilla as she baited her hook again. “And to get our story straight for any people we meet.”

  “Yes, that and to ask your advice.”

  She looked up, surprised and quickly tried to cover it. “About what?”

  “A few things about the trip are bothering me. Nettleton, for one. The boys who used to beat you when you lived there are long gone, serving in the king’s army. You lived alone. Your only friend was Robin, and she went to live with our family. It seems there’s nothing that you left in Nettleton, so what are you planning to do when we get there?”

  She snapped her wrist. Probably in response to a nibble of her bait, and obviously missed hooking the fish. “I want to see the village and people again. A few were kind to me and some were not. Brix’s family is there, too. I’ll let them know he’s doing fine and will visit soon.”

  “They’re spinners, right?”

  “Yes. They make twine and rope, mostly. Brix says his father used to tell him he has hams for hands. I’ve seen him try to sew and his father’s right.” She chuckled as she pulled in fish number three.

  Fleet said, “Okay, our story is we’re brother and sister from the town of Aare. That’s far enough away we’re not likely to meet anyone who has been there, but not so far away as to be strange we’ve traveled so far. We are going to visit our uncle. His wife broke her leg, and you’re going to care for her. I’m escorting you.”

  “Yes. Just keep it simple and try not to lie. Most people that lie add too much extra to a story so it sounds odd. Ask few questions of anyone, as if I have to tell that to you since you don’t talk unless you have to.”

  “Robin said that, too. I don’t understand why.”

  Camilla tossed her line back into the water and tried to entice one more fish to bite. “People are smart. They listen to your questions but then they wonder why you asked them. For instance, if you asked if anyone has seen a dragon lately, they’d maybe say no, then they’d wonder why you care. Then they’d think that since you asked, you must have seen one. And then someone else would wonder who sees dragons most of the time. Dragon Clan, that’s who. So they assume you must be one of them.”

  “Because I asked one innocent question?”

  “Yes.” She pulled in another fish. Kneeling, she pulled her knife and cleaned them on the bank. “If you ask two of the same sort of questions, you might as well tell them your life’s story.”

  He considered what she’d said. “If we don’t ask, how will we find out the information we need?”

  She said, “We listen. People love to talk, especially about themselves. Now and then we ask a leading question, but not too often or too pointed.

  “Like what?”

  “The dragon that attacked the king’s Summer Palace must have killed or injured a lot of people. It went right to the market in the city square when the market was full. People will talk about what they did to escape, or what they saw, for years to come. For most, it was the biggest event in their lives.”

  “I get that, but not how am I supposed to ask questions, without asking questions.”

  She smiled. “First, you just listen. Then you say something like, ‘go on’ or ‘what did you do then?’ Or you can just nod your head and encourage them to continue.”

  “But what if they go on and talk about something I don’t care about? Do I just continue to listen?”

  “Exactly. You never try to steer a conversation unless you do it very gently.”

  Fleet stood and walked with her to the campfire. “How’s it done gently?”

  “Let’s say someone talks about the dragon attack and what they did to escape. When they say the word ‘dragon’ you raise your eyebrows, as if you want them to tell you more. Most people will pick up on your signal of what you want to hear about, and tell you far more than you wish, with themselves as the center of the story, of course.”

  “How did you get so smart?” Fleet asked.

  She skewered the fish with green sticks and placed them over the fire before answering, “I’m more social than you, not smarter. And I have more experience dealing with normals.”

  They ate in silence. The sun stood well above the tops of the mountains to the west. He listened to the chuckling of the water in the stream. A crow scolded something. The wind rustled a few leaves. Fleet watched puffy clouds drift past. He liked the silence between them. Camilla didn’t talk incessantly or feel she had to be speaking every second.

  “This is a nice campsite. I’ve stayed here four times,” he said.

  “When you patrol this area for intruders, where do you sleep?”

  He looked to a hill in the distance, well off the path, but where a lone watcher could see the entire valley. “Cold camps somewhere on that hillside, usually. Just me and my blanket.”

  “It sounds lonely.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No, anything but. It gives me time to think and plan. I think about the past and plan for the future.”

  “Do you ever see people out here?”

  “A few times. Once there was a family. Father, mother, and two children. I wanted to know why they were camped here, but never did because we scared them off too fast.”

  “You didn’t hurt them?”

  “No, we went into their camp after they were asleep and hung some little dolls made of straw from branches all around the camp. We put one in their food and another in the father’s boot. Just little straw dolls as big as my hand.”

  “That scared them?”

  “Oh, yes. In the morning, they didn’t even eat breakfast. We could hear the mother shrieking at her husband and kids from clear over there.” He jutted his chin at the far off hill aga
in. “They left at a trot.”

  She tossed a few sticks on the fire. “You think that’s funny?”

  “Yes, I do think it was funny. But it keeps people away, too. It’s how we protect our village without hurting innocent people, and that’s serious. If people don’t come around, nobody gets hurt.”

  “I wanted to ride horses on this trip.”

  “At first, I did too.” Agreed Fleet. “But walking is better. We’ll meet people and talk to them. We’ll be like normals. Horses would make us look rich, and everybody would remember us. Thieves and Highwaymen would chase us the whole way if we appeared to have the coin.”

  “I have only a few coins in my purse. Dancer said if we’re stopped I’m to resist and then give the purse to the thief, but reluctantly. I don’t understand why.”

  Fleet said, “I do. You have other coins, more valuable ones hidden about you? The thieves will rob you of a few coppers and be satisfied if they believe they took all you have. They’ll have no idea you have more. But you have to resist, at first. Not so much that they will hurt you, but enough to make them believe they’ve got all you have. A few tears will help.”

  Camilla shook her head. “They may face my staff instead of tears before relieving me of my money. You know this about thieves, but not how to talk to people?”

  “Some things are easier to understand. A thief will know you have coins for travel. He will expect you to fight for them. You might even ask if he will allow you to keep a few because you have no others. Some thieves will allow that, and then everyone’s satisfied. He has no idea you have more hidden away unless you don’t play your part.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, I’d rather go alone. I need to think.”

  Chagrined, Fleet settled back and looked at the fire. His mind churned with the excitement of the trip, which he considered a quest. In reality, it was less than that. His task was to simply try and find any information about the man suspected to be bonded with a dragon who had helped Raymer escape, and return the information to his family. Camilla could probably do a better job without his help.

  Perhaps she could. He had only been considered an adult for half a year, and he was anxious to prove himself. He also had a growing desire for traveling to the Raging Mountains where Raymer lived. Raymer said there was a young woman there, a half-sister of his. Fleet would present himself to the family and carry word of the dragon attack on the palace, and of Raymer’s escape. While there he would meet the young woman.

  If they gathered any information about the bonded man and family, Camilla would carry it back to the Bear Mountain family while he went to the Raging Mountains. Both families needed to be warned. Their councils would decide the proper steps to take.

  Although a rustle behind him drew his attention, he didn’t react. The noise had been at least ten steps away, soft and almost hidden within the other sounds of the forest, but it didn’t belong. It was the sound of a twig or small branch scraping along a piece of material, such as a pants leg. A footstep sounded, soft and muffled, but clear to anyone listening.

  It could be Camilla sneaking up on him, but he had set that idea aside almost immediately. First, she would be more careful. Her forest skills were well respected. Second, she would move slower and avoid making noise because she was not impatient. The person sneaking up on him had little patience.

  But few normals could move with such stealth, even if Fleet had detected it. The intruder had skill in moving silently, if not silent enough. It would be Dakar’s time to guard the valley approach to the Bear Mountain home. Fleet casually reached out to toss more wood on the coals. He kept his voice soft and pleasant. “Did you bring a fishing line with you, Dakar?”

  Footsteps ran at him. Fleet didn’t turn, but ducked at the last instant, and a body flew over his shoulder. Before his childhood friend struck the grass on the meadow, Fleet turned and leaped after him, leaving his staff where it lay. Dakar tried to get an arm lock on Fleet, but he ducked under it and came up behind Dakar.

  Dakar snarled, spinning and attacking again. “How did you know?”

  Not wishing to tell the truth, because it was more fun to insult his friend, Fleet said, “You haven’t bathed in days. I smelled you.”

  “Liar. You saw me from the corner of your eye.” Dakar put a shoulder down as he charged and drove it into Fleet’s chest, forcing him to stumble backward.

  Fleet expected the move. He’d wrestled with Dakar since they were yearlings. As he ‘stumbled’ back, he grabbed hold of Dakar’s shirt with both hands. At the last instant, he stepped aside and used the grip on his shirt to throw Dakar into the stream.

  Dakar hit the cold water face first and came up spitting and laughing as Fleet leaped into the water beside him. “I heard a branch scrape your pants. Then your heavy foot.”

  “I’ve been on your tail all day. You never once saw me,” Dakar retorted.

  Camilla appeared from behind the same brush that Dakar had used to hide behind, her staff pointing at him. She said, “I saw you all day, Dakar, and I’ve been following you since we ate. You were so focused in sneaking up on us you never once looked behind.”

  Fleet threw his head back and laughed.

  Dakar didn’t.

  Fleet choked off his laughter and playfully splashed water at his friend. “She’s right. It’s a good lesson for both of us. Always keep an eye behind.”

  Dakar stood. “Sure. I will from now on, I guess.” He cast a hard look in Camilla’s direction before climbing the bank. “I’ll use your fire to dry my clothes before dark.”

  Fleet joined him after casting a warning glance at Camilla, telling her to remain quiet. Dakar was embarrassed enough. “You’ve been out here two days? Nobody else around?”

  “Bender’s on top of that hill watching the valley,” Dakar said, jutting his chin at a hill while stripping off his wet shirt. He sat and pulled his pants off. “I’ve been down-valley watching the approach.”

  Camilla used her knife to cut several small branches. She tossed them to the boys for them to use for holding their clothes while drying. She headed away without speaking.

  “She’s good,” Fleet said.

  Dakar drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes, she is.”

  “I don’t think she knew you were back there all day so don’t worry about it.”

  “Meaning you didn’t know I was there. Listen, I was upset when they selected her to go with you. Then I gave it some thought and realized she’s better for this. A sister traveling with her brother is a better story.”

  Fleet nodded in understanding. “Did you feel the touch of a dragon this morning?”

  “Once. Just for a short time.”

  Fleet smiled and placed a hand on his lower back where it still tingled. He scratched, but the feeling went deeper than that. He looked to the mountain in the north. A dragon was up there. Staying close. Maybe watching them at this instant. And only he could feel it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The rest of the trip to Nettleton was without incident. They reached the King’s Road in the early morning and turned south. They met two farm wagons heading up the valley and overtook a boy herding five goats that were more interested in eating than walking.

  Camilla paused on the last rise before the village. She pointed, “That is where Brix’s family lives. There is the inn, bakery, blacksmith, and dress shop.” Her finger moved to a stand of forest. “Robin lived in those trees.”

  “They knew you as a boy?”

  “None here knows that I was a girl. My hair was short, and I walked heavy on my heels and swung my shoulders while walking, to show how strong I was. Like you do.”

  “I do not,” he began, then laughed. “Well, not all the time.”

  She said, “We’ll stay at the inn. You will have no more than one tankard of ale and nothing stronger because it loosens men’s tongues, like yours.”r />
  “People get sick drinking water.”

  “A little wine in a full glass will keep you well. You have the coin for the room and food. You will speak for both of us. But keep your eyes and ears on me.” She made a splashing noise with her tongue. “If I do that, stop speaking and think of what you said that was either wrong or dangerous. I will start to talk to confuse an issue or correct you, but don’t argue with me.”

  “People won’t wonder at you making that noise?”

  “They will think the younger sister is annoying her brother. They’ll understand that.”

  “Any more advice before we go down there?”

  “Smile. You’re too serious.” She jabbed him in the ribs with her finger and laughed.

  He followed her, his mind racing. When he had stayed at an inn half a year ago others had done all the talking and decision making. He had still been considered a child by most, although his beard had grown. Now it was full, trimmed close to his cheeks and chin, but more than enough to tell others he was a man.

  Camilla made small changes to herself. Her hair was not tied with a string. It hung free to her shoulders. She walked with her shoulders back, making her chest stand out. Her hips swung with each step. Nobody would mistake her for a man.

  Two dogs greeted them at the edge of the village, a hound and the other a mixture of mostly herding breeds. Both barked their eager greetings, then lost interest as a woman called them. They raced to her side, tussling as they ran. Fleet took it all in.

  He noticed the stable across from the inn leaned to one side and appeared ready to fall down. No horses were in the corral and from the tall grass and weeds growing there, none had been kept there for some time.

  They entered the inn. He expected the low ceiling, large fireplace with a pot of bubbling stew, and tables. Most inns were similar. A narrow staircase led up to the few rooms above. Several thin strips of iron hung from the ceiling on a leather thong so that when the door opened it struck them and they tinkled merrily. The innkeeper came from the kitchen wiping his hands on the apron around his ample waist.