Dragon Clan #3: Fleet's Story

by LeRoy Clary

  The reeds were green, as long as his arm, and pliable. He placed a circle of them, all touching in the center and spreading out. Then, using a simple under and over method he wove other reeds until he had a hat twice as large around as his head. The sun was almost down, but he kept busy until he had a cone, along with a chin strap.

  It was lopsided, stray reeds poked out at odd angles, and it smelled. But his red face and neck would be thankful tomorrow. A feeling of mastery over his environment, pumped up his sagging confidence.

  Then the mosquitoes attacked. Blackflies swarmed in clouds that buzzed as loud as a rattlesnake. He choked on them. Mosquitoes fought for space on his bare skin to suck his blood. Waving his arm seemed to attract more. And the temperature started falling.

  There could be no sleep under the conditions. Fleet gathered his things and started walking, determined to out-walk the insects. Finally, he decided he was far enough away and curled up in his blanket. If anything, the second night was worse than the first.

  He woke before dawn and trudged ahead despite the cold. His new reed hat felt odd, but when the sun came up, he would give thanks. The backpack still held plenty of food, but his second jug of water was half gone. He might last until the end of the day—but sometime soon he would have to leave the desert or risk dying from lack of water.

  The terrain to his right continued to get rougher. Instead of washed out gullies, there were canyons as large as any he’d ever seen. The other side of the dryland held much the same. Fleet realized the drylands extended much farther than he anticipated. The chances of locating the other family were about as great as him becoming king.

  There was one option the family council suggested. He found a twisted cedar growing from a split in a rock. It provided almost enough shade to protect him. He downed the last of the water in the second jug. In the morning, he must retrace his steps before his water ran out.

  Closing his eyes, he made a mental picture of a dragon flying nearby. When nothing happened, he tried to project danger. If not danger, then fear. He would not fail.

  Still, nothing happened. He had been so certain the dragon would come. It had five or six times previously, and it had been the first on Bear Mountain to allow him to approach. He became scared. Not scared in the physical sense, but scared that he would not accomplish his goal. Perhaps they should have sent Camilla, after all.

  No. She didn’t have the ability to call a dragon. In an emergency, she might, just like any of the family might do. He spread his blanket and ate. It would be another cold camp, but as he lay and watched the blue sky, he continued to call on the dragon.

  Shortly after dark, he quit. Maybe the dragon had flown back to Bear Mountain. Maybe it was ignoring him, or it didn’t like deserts. Before he left, he would try again. On his second trip into the dry lands in a few days, he would carry more water.

  He would also attempt to contact the dragon every day until he knew it was close. His next venture would not fail.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Fleet woke with the sun. He remembered the frustration of the night before and lay still as he tried to touch minds with the dragon.

  “What’s he doing?” A soft male voice whispered.

  Fleet was on his feet, staff in hand before any answer could be heard. Two people sat where the morning sun would warm them. A man and a woman, but oddly Fleet detected in some manner that they were not a couple.

  His staff was in the defensive position, held parallel to the ground, but his hands were eager to move to an attack stance. After the run in with the three idiots at the edge of the desert, he had no patience for another such encounter. However, neither of the two so much as flinched. The woman was as old as his mother, slim and stern in her appearance. The man was nearer his age, perhaps a couple of years older. Both wore heavy brown cotton shirts and baggy pants. Their hair was cut alike, too. It hung to their shoulders and over the front of their faces.

  The woman said, “Why are you here?”

  The question took Fleet by surprise because he had no ready answer. If he said that he was Dragon Clan, and they were not, it could cost him his life. Who would not turn him in for the sizeable reward?

  He said, “I heard that some relatives of mine may be living here.”

  The man answered with a cagey statement. “Nobody lives out here.”

  The woman squinted while examining him as if her eyesight was not the best. “Well, we did see a dragon flying around near sundown.”

  “A black one?” Fleet asked before he could stop himself.

  She nodded. “We see reds mostly around here.”

  Fleet was at a loss of how to continue the conversation. He couldn’t admit he was Dragon Clan. Not only would that place him in danger, but if rumors began that a Dragon Clan member had been captured in the drylands, others searching for wealth would flock to the area and possibly find the people he searched for.

  She stood and reached into a shoulder bag, drawing out an oiled cloth. “Salve for the sun. It takes the sting out. May I place some on your face, arms and neck?”

  She didn’t wait for an answer. In a few steps, she was facing him, gently spreading a gel on his left arm. She moved to his face, smearing more on his cheeks and forehead. She spoke in soothing tones, telling him to keep the sun off his pale skin, and complimenting him on the crude hat he’d made.

  She placed more on his other arm and after dipping her fingers into the salve again, she slipped to his rear and touched his red, sore neck. As if by accident, she slipped a finger into the neck of his shirt and pulled it away from his body, as if placing more medicine on him.

  “Dragon Clan,” she murmured to the other.

  Fleet panicked. His staff came up. These two will die.

  The man had already advanced a step closer. But instead of attacking, he spun and pulled his shirt high over his back, almost to his shoulders. The red dragon on his back was detailed, covered his whole back, and looked as angry as the black one Fleet wore.

  The woman stepped back and also turned. She displayed a red dragon, the tail traveling around her waist. “I am Tessa, of the Dragon Clan.”

  “I am Gray, of the Dragon Clan.”

  Fleet had been taught proper manners since he was a child, but almost forgot to turn and display his birthmark. Then, the excitement of defending his presence evolved into another sort of excitement. His breath caught as he turned. He pulled his shirt high and allowed them to lay their eyes on the most magnificent birthmark they’d ever seen. At least, that was how he thought of it.

  “A black,” Tessa commented.

  Gray said, “We saw your dragon flying up and down the valley. It came to roost on Sage Mountain with our reds so we came looking for you.”

  Tessa handed him a canteen of water. “I am the head watcher.”

  Fleet accepted it, pleased and cautious at the same time. These were members of the family he’d come to meet. But he wanted to meet with the council, not the watchers. At home, he was a watcher, too. The head watcher, but he didn’t wish to sound arrogant or like a braggart so he said nothing.

  Tessa accepted the canteen back and glanced at Gray as if giving him silent instructions. Then she turned her attention back to him. “You don’t talk much.”

  “I will speak to your elders.”

  Gray raised his eyebrows in question and lifted his staff as if ready to depart. “I take that to mean you are not here to visit or hunting for a wife?”

  “Go,” Tessa said to Gray. He spun and departed at a distance-eating jog, his question about the reason for Fleet’s visit unanswered. She turned to Fleet. “Are you here for an emergency?”

  “Not immediately, but my family is concerned. And yours.”

  “The others?”

  She said ‘others’ as if it held meaning, but he didn’t know what. Instead of explaining his story several times he said, “We will share information, your family and I.”

  Tilting her head, she thought about his response and said
, “You don’t talk much, do you?”

  “My dad says you can’t learn while talking.”

  “Unless you’re asking questions. Then you learn. Tell him I said that.” She chuckled at her wit if that is what it was.

  He rolled his blanket and prepared to follow her. “I’m not familiar with the term ‘others’ as you used it. Who are they?”

  Tessa didn’t immediately answer, but then said, “You want me to answer your questions while you answer none of mine.”

  “Who are they?”

  “And you are persistent,” she smiled with genuine humor. Then her voice became softer, more intense. “The others are mostly a mystery. They are not Dragon Clan, or so we believe. But they have our abilities or some of them. No, that’s not exactly right. I think we’re pretty certain we have the same abilities, but they may have them more developed.”

  “So they’re Dragon Clan, but from another, unknown family. You, I and everyone I know is family. These others may be a different family or a different clan.”

  “You probably have a better understanding than most, at this point.” She flashed a smile. “Your ignorance gives you an advantage. Did you come seeking information about them? The others?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought that might be the case. Follow me and don’t worry about leaving tracks in the sand. The wind will blow them away in no time. Do not drop or leave anything behind, and don’t step on a plant to show off our passing, not that I think you would.”

  Fleet followed behind, lost in thought, but careful where he placed his feet as a matter of routine. The woman ahead was as old as his mother and walked with light steps like she was half his age. She issued orders to Gray, and he obeyed without hesitation. In short, she was a leader.

  Fleet further inferred that she ran her watchers as effectively as Fergal ran his families’. It was a position that could mean the death of the entire village if not done right. Only a certain mindset could manage it. Further, he appreciated her insights and he respected her in not demanding information he chose to withhold.

  The last thing that came to mind was how lucky his family was to live high on the slopes of Bear Mountain, in the pristine forests, surrounded by pines, cedars and firs, all with scents sweet to his nose. The trees concealed them from enemies. This dry place was ugly and barren. The wind picked up, and sand shifted. Smaller grains flew.

  His exuberance maintained itself. He had accomplished a major portion of his task in locating the drylands division of the family. He suspected the others would be a topic of conversation at the family council. The knowledge of their existence stunned him. Their actions might endanger everyone, and everything he knew.

  The valley in the hillside they traveled became more of a rift, the walls steeper and while wide at the desert floor, narrowing as they continued. Fleet’s legs protested walking in the soft sand. He wondered how they had managed to remain hidden for generations. Hadn’t any of the king’s men ever explored the valleys?

  Tessa had gradually angled to her right as they walked. The right wall of the canyon was covered in cactus, juniper, sage, and other plants. She walked directly to one impenetrable section and stepped behind a juniper twice her height. She stepped over cactus spreading under the juniper, then she carefully stepped to another bare patch of sand.

  Fleet followed, matching her steps. She took three more steps to bare patches, not all in a row, and finally, she ducked around sage and several tumbleweeds. A narrow path wound off to her left, where she climbed over boulders and rocks until she reached the top. She paused and waited.

  As Fleet caught up with her, he glanced behind. To his surprise, he couldn’t see the valley or the desert. He was on a saddle with shrubbery that prevented him from seeing what he’d left, but as he turned and looked ahead he gasped in surprise.

  A wide, green valley, probably large enough to hold ten of the valleys he’d grown up in, lay there. Pastures, orchards, crops, cattle, barns, houses, and in the center a lake, large enough to have several boats pulled onto shore. One boat was on the water, and two people were fishing.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said.

  “Takes me by surprise every time I see it. We call it Oasis.”

  They had traveled a few thousand steps from the desert floor, but that still seemed too close to hide noise, smoke, and indications of the Dragon Clan. “Nobody has ever found this place?”

  “Not so far. The valley the desert is in narrows, and the wind blows faster as it gets channeled. Here, it blows off the desert so sound and smoke are away from anyone down there.” She pointed beyond the valley, to the sharp rise in the hill, which was small mountains with steep sides. “Almost impossible to climb, and the other side is the same.”

  “Dragons nest here?”

  “Close. In those hills is a place we call Sage Mountain, which is a steep slope where a rockslide caved in half the mountain. Part of the way up is a level shelf large enough for a few dragons to sun themselves. Your black is there.”

  “He’s not mine. We are not bonded.”

  She flashed him a puzzled look before continuing. “We have nobody bonded. But there is a secondary association of existence. We hunt out the vermin that attacks the Dragon’s eggs, and the dragons respond to our cries for help. Is it not so in your family?”

  Fleet still admired the valley below, and his eyes picked out the well-traveled path that would take them down to the area where the houses were built near each other. They were all constructed with walls of stone, with mud or clay packed between. In a wet area they wouldn’t last a year, but here they might stand fifty. More maintenance kept them in shape. The roofs were poles for support and a thatch roof above.

  Simple, using available building materials. Nothing too permanent, but not like his home. This settlement was built to last. Even from the distance, he felt comfortable. He said, “Yes, it is like that in my family, but only now am I considered an adult, and many of the things I need to know are in front of me.”

  “You didn’t sit and listen at any council meeting?”

  “No. I was the one out hunting, exploring, or watching. I became a watcher ten years ago, but only when another was with me.”

  “We train ours the same. I was also the one who never attended family meetings and missed out on a lot I should have known until I returned from the Summer Palace when I was about your age.”

  He turned to look at her. “That’s when and where you learned important things you needed to know?”

  “That’s when I started to suspect all the things I didn’t know if that’s what you mean.”

  “I think it is.”

  “Are you ready to leap into the family fire? I’m sure you’ll be up late tonight because they will not pause once they start talking. News of the outside world is scarce, and news of our Dragon Clan is even more desired. They won’t let up on you.” She giggled as if thinking what he would endure was somehow funny.

  He looked back at the lake and the houses. While the distance was too far to be sure, it looked like a small assemblage of people were gathering. No doubt because Gray had arrived and spread the word of his arrival.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Other than five or six dogs, the first person to greet Fleet called himself Sawyer. He was old. White hair and beard, wrinkles, and eyes that squinted. But he carried his staff as if it was a symbol of authority, and as he moved the staff was a natural extension of his hand and arm. Fleet had the impression that he should beg off if the old man asked him to spar.

  A pair of wide shoulders and upper arms told of the strength contained there, and the eyes told of the wisdom gained through the years. Dancer, his father, had told him when in battle to choose the younger opponent if he had the choice. The older one knew all the tricks and hadn’t lived that long by losing.

  Sawyer nodded, the first in the group to move, which told of his authority without the use of words. He said his name in a ritualistic manner and spun slowly, raising his
shirt as he did. Another red dragon. Its fangs were exposed and the lips drawn back. The eyes seemed to look directly at Fleet.

  Fleet realized he was the unknown stranger and should have performed the act first, as was custom. Quickly, he said his name and turned, raising his shirt very high. The head of his black dragon was on his shoulder, similar to Camilla’s, which looked over her shoulder.

  Then, as one, the rest turned and bared their backs. They were ­clan. Family.

  Sawyer motioned to a young girl of about five. She attentively eased a few steps closer and held out a mug of water to him. Fleet realized that she may never have met a stranger in her short life. He went to one knee and accepted the water. He said, “May I see your dragon?”

  With a giggle, she turned. He told her how beautiful it was and watched her cheeks turn pink. Then he stood and said for all, “I bring news of the Dragon Clan at Bear Mountain. I also seek information and will ask for a council. There is no immediate danger so you can relax about that, but there are things my family has asked me to find out, and they sent me with a warning.”

  Several of those listening exchanged surprised and confused looks. They had expected him to bring news and announce he was looking for a bride and perhaps a new home. Instead, he issued a warning.

  Sawyer said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, “We will discuss these things while we eat our midday meal at the Council location. Until then, Fleet and I have matters to discuss so we would appreciate privacy.”

  The crowd began to disperse, without grumbling and objection. Most headed in the direction of the lake, but many went off in other directions to complete meals, chores, or duties, Fleet decided.

  The old man walked like he was in better physical shape than Fleet, but the trek across the soft desert sand had tired Fleet’s legs, and they were stiff. Still, Sawyer walked beside him, in the direction of the orchard, probably thirty rows of mature trees, at least, fifty trees deep.

  Sawyer waved an arm in their direction and said, “Cherries, pears, peaches, and of course apples. I think we now have eleven varieties of apples and five pears. It is one of the sad restrictions of our home in the desert that we cannot plant trees with the seeds in the drylands, but when you leave, we would ask you to carry some with you and plant them in good locations.”