Dragon Clan #3: Fleet's Story

by LeRoy Clary

Fleet said, “You saw our backs. Why do you hesitate?”

  “Someone beat your sister no more than a day or two ago. That tells me you may be too young to keep secrets that can cost lives. You should have been more careful.”

  He handed the empty skewer to Camilla and turned away, limping in the direction of the far-off ridge. Neither Camilla nor Fleet called for his return. Both watched wordlessly until he was out of sight.

  Camilla said, “Do you think he will be back?”

  “Yes. But if he does not come back there is no sense in chasing after him. He won’t talk unless he wants to. He’s protecting a friend or lover.”

  “He never said that.”

  Fleet looked at her and realized that for all of her insights earlier, she had missed one of the most important ones. “He’s right, you know. We can’t just go into the market and ask questions. All strangers will be suspect, especially after the escape from the dungeon and the dragon attack on the marketplace. We will have to be very careful.”

  “Listen to everything. No talking. In short, we both act like you on a normal day.” She headed for the deep pool in the river. “I’m going to swim.”

  “There goes my fishing,” Fleet said.

  “Me splashing and swimming will not make your fish swim to another part of the river,” she said.

  “I was thinking of the sweat and grime tainting the water.”

  She spun on him, “Then you had better stay dirty, too. And stay away from the water or you may find yourself dunked.”

  He chased her to the edge and after stripping off his shirt and boots, he dived in. The old man had given them hope that he would return with information that might help. Camilla swam through the water as if born to it while he struggled to stay afloat. More bruises showed themselves on Camilla, and Fleet realized that the one covering half her face was possibly not the most serious.

  They splashed and played like children, which was not far from the truth. For a few minutes, the pressure and responsibilities evaporated. After swimming Fleet spread his blanket on the sand to lay in the afternoon sun and dry. He instantly fell asleep.

  When he woke, Camilla was on the sand beside him, the sun setting, and the fire low. He moved softly and then gathered more wood. You can never have too much, but you can always have too little. His father had taught him that when he was camping for the first time and it remained good advice.

  Camilla still slept. Healing from injuries uses energy. He left her alone while he sat beside the fire and watched the flames, as countless people have done since the beginning of time. The warmth, the soft crackles, and hisses, and the ever-changing patterns that soothe and allow a mind to wander, and sometimes to center on what is most important.

  Without warning, the old man stepped into the firelight and sat, uninvited. He chose a spot only a step away from Fleet. “Walking all the way home and back is a chore for an old man,” he said. “Too much walking two days in a row.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to walk in the dark.”

  “The moon will be up soon. That’s all the light I need.”

  Fleet tossed another few sticks on the fire. “Does this mean you’re going to talk to us?”

  “Yes. But the truth is, I don’t have much to tell. A long time ago a woman, a young woman, stood by me when I needed it. I was a soldier and refused to set fire to a farmhouse. A neighbor had accused them of being part of the Dragon Clan. I was thrown in chains and called a sympathizer.”

  “You refused orders from a superior? Why?”

  “I did not think it was right to burn their home, even if they were Dragon Clan. They were just a family trying to get by.”

  “Were they Dragon Clan?

  “No, it was a case where the neighbor who accused them wanted a larger farm. If the king’s army burned the house and took the family away, the neighbors wouldn’t even have to purchase the land.”

  “Clever.”

  “Not really. A lot of that sort of thing was going on at the time. I’d seen it before and so had my officer, so I refused to set the fire. I expected my officer to stand by me, but he didn’t. They burned the buildings while I watched.”

  “You said that they chained you?”

  “Yes. They left me chained to a post beside the burned out house while they went off to respond to another report of a Dragon Clan sighting. A young woman came along. We talked. Then this great dragon flew over the treetops and spit a black wad at the side of the stone farmhouse. She used a shovel to carry some of the spit to my chains. She put it on and they sizzled and smoked . . . And melted.”

  “Then what?”

  “You don’t talk much, do you, boy? Then we ran for our lives. They chased us for three days before we gave them the slip, but there are those I served with who would recognize me. So I headed to places unknown. I heard later that the dragon went back and burned the other farm to the ground a few days later, and then again after the new house and barn were built.”

  “You have stayed away from people all this time?”

  “As a soldier for more than twenty years, I met a passel of men. There’s probably not a king’s unit that doesn't have at least a man I served with, even to this day. The reward the king offers for my head will turn even a friend into a wealthy ex-friend.”

  Fleet stirred the fire while thinking about the story. The old man was entrusting him with information every bit as damning as they’d trusted him with when they displayed their birthmarks. He thought about retelling the story to Camilla in the morning, but as he glanced her way the light reflected in her open eyes. She didn’t move, so he looked at the fire again.

  “I understand why you hide. But there’s more.

  “That there is. This is the part I decided to hold from you. Then changed my mind and came back to tell you. During our three days of running, we didn’t know what would happen. There were hundreds of men after us, each seeking the generous reward. She was worn out, her ankle tender from a sprain, and lack of sleep had us reeling. We climbed a steep hillside only to find troops ahead of us, too.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Climbed a tree. Figured we’d make it hard for them to get at us. There was this big old elm. The lowest branch was way over my head. I gave her my knee to step up and lifted her to it. She pulled herself up like she was born to it, which she probably was. I was going to divert them, but she shucked her pants and tied the legs around the limb. I jumped and managed to grab them. She reached for the back of my shirt and pulled me up.”

  “They didn’t see you?”

  “I got up just in time. She untied her pants, and we eased ourselves higher until they couldn’t see us from below unless they looked right up. Later we went higher and braced ourselves sturdy against y-shaped branches. They searched for over a day, but never found us.”

  “I will repeat your story to my family.”

  “Her name was Violet. While we were up there, we both believed they would catch us. She made me promise that if I got away, I would carry a message to her people.”

  Fleet sat right up, almost coming to his feet. “You know where they are?”

  “I do. At least, I know where they were. I have convinced myself she would wish me to share it with you. She lived out here with me for half our lives. Tell them she was happy.”

  Camilla was now sitting and listening intently. Fleet hadn’t seen her move. He didn’t speak, but waited.

  “Travel east after you reach the Summer Palace. Spend only enough time in that god-awful palace market to buy water containers and food. No more than one container from each vendor or someone will figure out you’re heading into the drylands.”

  “Drylands?” Fleet didn’t like the sound of the word.

  “Two day’s travel east, over land without water. Three days if you do not hurry. There you will find a wide, flat valley. It is rugged, an endless series of dry canyons, I was told. In one box canyon lives a family of the Dragon Clan.”

  Fleet cast a warni
ng glance to Camilla so she would remain quiet while he tried to keep the old man talking. “How will I know which canyon? I’m picturing dozens of them.”

  “Hundreds is more like it. Maybe a thousand. They always keep people watching the approach, so you just have to have one of your dragons fly over, and they will know you’re one of them.”

  Camilla stood and walked to the fire. “What if we do not know how to make dragons do our bidding?”

  The old man squinted and scratched his head. He said, “Well, first of all, if I were you two I wouldn’t be telling everyone I met my family connections if you see what I mean. You told me with no reason, more or less. Tell the wrong person and you’re dead. Both of you.”

  “I see,” Fleet said, his thoughts already elsewhere.

  “Moons coming up, now. I gotta go. An old man like me needs his sleep.” He stood and pulled his blanket tighter, then started walking away.

  Camilla said, “When one of us comes back this way we’ll bring a bag of red pepper flakes.”

  He paused, half turned and said, “You’d really do that for me?”

  Fleet watched him turn and continue walking. Yes, he’d do that. If Camilla didn’t, he would, but then relented. If Camilla returned this way, she’d have his spices even if she had to walk two or three extra days. And she would bring him more than one kind of pepper. That was her.

  She shrugged. “Is that the people we’re looking for?”

  “Probably. Maybe.”

  “I know. I have the same doubts. But it’s a place to begin or a place to visit the Summer Palace,” she said. “It’s also a place to tell our family about. We never know when we might have to leave our valley on Bear Mountain. The only other family I know is Raymer’s in the Raging Mountains.”

  “Drylands. I don’t like the sound of it.”

  Her laughter tinkled like bells. “Is that so different than you and the other boys spreading chicken feathers in normals camps or hanging little dolls from limbs to scare them off? For them, the name ‘drylands’ alone might keep people away.”

  “You sound like you’re in a hurry to go there,” Fleet said.

  “I am.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Two days later Camilla’s bruises were fading fast. She looked healthy and ready to travel. The nameless old man had not returned, but they had caught and eaten more fish, and the food supplies they’d brought with them were almost gone, too.

  In the late afternoon, Fleet woke from a nap, a routine he was coming to like. Camilla sat on a flat rock a few steps away.

  She said, “We can leave tomorrow.”

  “Your bruises are not all gone.”

  “They fade more each day. By tomorrow, they’ll be almost gone. The day after it will look like I took a slight fall, if that.”

  “Okay, tomorrow.”

  She stood and began packing their few belongings. Fleet watched, sensing her boredom. He felt it too. They needed to continue and find what was out there. The Summer Palace first, where he expected to find next to nothing because they couldn’t ask the questions they wanted to be answered. Second, the drylands. He couldn’t even ask about the drylands without arousing suspicions.

  Fleet said, “What kind of quest is it when you cannot ask questions, don’t know where you’re going, and won’t know you’ve completed it until someone unknown tells you?”

  Camilla tossed a stone over his head, causing him to duck. “If the big, quiet man cannot handle the quest, I will.”

  “Are you looking to get thrown into the water again?”

  “If I remember correctly, you spent your share of time being splashed.”

  They settled for an evening of talking and planning. As the sun rose, the following morning so did they. Both were ready to move. Only Fleet looked at the mesa half expecting to see the old man sitting on the perch and watching. Perhaps he was.

  In the late afternoon, they passed the first farms. Most were small with poorly constructed houses and barns. The fields were few. Later, past several smaller ones, they came to a wide valley filled with prosperous farms located on dark-brown dirt that seemed rich enough to grow anything. Mules, oxen, horses, cows, and sheep seemed to abound, almost as much as the barking dogs each farm kept.

  They paused at one farm where a woman and two small children tended the vegetable garden just on the other side of the fence that lined the road. After passing a few friendly words and confirming they traveled in the right direction, Fleet pulled a pair of copper snits and thanked each of the children for the information as he passed the thin coins to them. Each snit would buy a pair of sweets at a bakery.

  Walking down the road, Camilla said, “Your social instincts are pretty good. Better than I expected.”

  “Your ability to compliment me is also better than expected.”

  She punched his arm. The Summer Palace was less than a day’s walk. But Fleet had noticed the cautious tone of the woman’s voice after she came to the fence and noticed Camilla’s bruised eye. Fleet had received a questioning flick of her eyes.

  While many farms filled the wide valley, there were areas of forest and tall trees. Late in the day, a stream flowed under the road through a culvert. Camilla pointed upstream where the section of trees seemed the largest.

  They followed a narrow thread of trail along the stream, soon finding a small clearing covered with grass. The hanging limbs of nearby trees kept it in the shade most of the day. A circle of rocks occupied the center. At first, Fleet hesitated to use such a public location, a place where it was obvious from the ashes a fire had burned since the last rain.

  Then he reconsidered. If they were brother and sister on their way to visit an uncle, they would not hide. They would welcome a place to spend the night near the road with a place for fire and wood nearby. He let his blanket and pack fall to the ground, but through habit held onto his staff.

  Camilla said, “Close to the road.”

  “Your bruises can only be seen up close. I think we enter the Summer Palace tomorrow and spend at least one day.”

  “We will buy at least two warm blankets for me. I’m tired of sleeping cold. And food. With meat,” she laughed.

  Fleet said, “And water bottles to carry. And dried apples, nuts, smoked meat, and more. I don’t expect any fish in a stream that small, so we will go hungry tonight.”

  “Maybe. But we have time before dark. You try your hand at fishing, and I’ll explore.”

  “I take that to mean you believe I am a good fisherman,” Fleet said, smiling and acting cocky.

  She turned at the edge of the clearing and said, “Or that you are so poor at foraging I don’t want you along.”

  To his surprise, he caught one small trout—enough to barely feed either of them. Split in half it would only provide a tantalizing taste. He had firewood gathered and a small fire started with she returned, carrying a dead chicken by its legs. It hung at her side as she walked and she acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

  She handed it to him. “Can you pluck and clean that?”

  Dumfounded, he only nodded.

  Finally, the smile she had been holding back erupted. Reaching into her pocket, she withdrew a small cloth wrapped around something. Then she pulled a blanket from behind her. “Salt and spices. And I have early raspberries.”

  Fleet understood. She had found a farm and purchased the hen, spices, berries, and blanket. He carried the hen off a distance. When he returned to the campsite, he held a chicken ready to roast. Camilla had built up the fire and took the chicken. The knife at her waist appeared in her hand, and she deftly cut it into pieces.

  “Takes too long to cook, whole. I’m starving,” she said.

  While he had plucked and cleaned the chicken she had also cut several green branches to hold the chicken above the fire while cooking. She started roasting it as the sun set.

  Suddenly she looked up at him as if startled. “Tomorrow is the day we came here for. I am getting excited.”
<
br />   “To begin our quest that makes you excited, or to eat well and sleep warm?”

  “I can be excited for all of those things. But you said our quest. Is it no longer yours?”

  Fleet considered. He had said they shared it, but was that really what he meant? No, she could have a part of it, but this was his entry into manhood. He intended to do well. “Whose it is isn’t the issue. Our families may face danger, especially if the one we seek is a rogue.”

  “Rogue? A rogue of the Dragon Clan? Is there such a thing?”

  “Are you not one? Or, were you one?”

  She turned each piece of chicken slowly before speaking. “I guess I was. There could be others.”

  “Then the issue becomes, what do we do when we find them?” Fleet waited for her anger in not sharing the quest to catch up with his statements. When it didn’t happen, he became even more impressed. If he sat on the other side of the table, he would not have reacted calmly or intelligently. Perhaps he was not as grown as he believed.

  They talked late into the night, planning and sharing concerns, but in the end, only Fleet had ever as much as stayed at an inn, much less visited a city or palace. Nettleton was the largest either had even seen except for the one trip with his father, and it held less than a hundred people. At the council meeting when they agreed to allow Fleet to go, Robin had told him a city, a true city worthy of the name, holds more than a thousand people.

  Camilla said, “If Robin were telling the truth, ten Nettleton would fit into one Summer Palace.”

  “And ten Summer Palaces into Princeton, they say.”

  “Do you ever get the impression older people tend to stretch the truth when they try to warn us about things.”

  Fleet nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  They built up the fire and settled in for the night, well fed, tired, and anxious. Fleet realized that just because they were close to the palace, he couldn’t let his guard down, so he placed his staff in easy reach and pulled his knife out placing it under his makeshift pillow.

  Twice during the night wagons squeaked their way down the road a hundred steps away. A trotting horse woke him, but it never slowed. The fourth time he woke it was to movement in camp as Camilla tried to rekindle the fire without making noise. The sky was lighter, but not yet true dawn.