Dragon! Book Two: "Revenge"

CHAPTER NINETEEN

*You’re crossing the mountains. You’re crossing the mountains.*

The phrase was repeated over and over, like a mantra of hate and accusation. There were no other words, images, or ideas conveyed to Gareth. Just that one single spew of filth containing all the hate possible. It sounded as if Belcher could not believe Gareth would cross them, and he certainly didn’t want Gareth to do so. That made it all the more necessary to do so.

Gareth closed his mind to listening to Belcher, to where not even the slightest hint of him crept into his thoughts, and he opened his eyes. Blackie had veered off and fought to fly higher and faster, his wings pumping frantically as his head turned and twisted, searching for the threat it felt in Belcher’s mental broadcast. Both Tan and Ramos were on their knees, palms covering their ears as if that would stop the pain. Ann had her mouth held open, her eyes wide, tears streaming down her cheeks.

They had all heard Belcher’s threats, his wails of protests, and every sensitive on this side of the mountains heard him in their own way, again. As suddenly as it began, it turned to silence. Tad and Ramos exchanged a relieved look and waited in anticipation of another outburst.

Ann shook herself and turned to Gareth. “Well, that was intense. I don’t think he wants us to cross the mountains.”

“I’m sorry,” Gareth began.

“No, you did nothing. But Belcher’s wailing told the entire world of his powers and evilness. It also told you that crossing the mountains is the right course of action.”

“How did it do that?” Gareth asked, wanting to confirm his own ideas.

“Because he does not want you to go there. He wants you were he can control the circumstances, and where he can defeat you, but crossing these mountains was completely unexpected. The intensity of his anger is reason enough to go.”

Blackie circled high above, still wary. Gareth reached out and calmed his mind by providing soothing images of Bitters Island and seals swimming below in the water. The dragon was scared and upset without knowing why and the familiar things entering its mind put the fear Belcher had spread to rest. It finally allowed itself to fly lower and land on the road ahead of them. It released the package it carried.

Blackie watched them approach. He would have smiled it he could. As they neared, he hopped from one foot to another, then rushed at Gareth. Gareth stepped in front of the others and talked soothingly to the dragon. An upset and cranky dragon is not for most to approach. One snap of the tooth-filled mouth could kill two or three of them.

The boys, both of them, were excited and wanted to race closer. Ann held back, but she was an adult and knew what she faced, even if she had never been closer to a dragon than to watch it fly high overhead.

Tad pulled to a stop a respectful distance away and welcomed Blackie. The dragon had known the boy his whole life, and Blackie instantly recognized the scent. Ramos, despite the medicine to keep his mind calm, ran closer. Blackie’s head suddenly spun and the red eyes fixed on the boy. Blackie snorted deep inside his chest. The rumble was enough of a warning to make Ramos stop in fear at the creature peering at him with red eyes the size of melons.

The whole time Gareth was inside Blackie’s mind, and there was no aggression, only the requirement for respect. The boy needed to respect Blackie and after the warning, he would. Gareth still held the stick he’d found beside the road, and he walked up to the dragon and gave it a pat on one foreleg. Then he used the stick to scratch up high on Blackie’s back where he could no longer reach. Since becoming near-adult, Blackie being only forty years old, he didn’t have the ability to reach some places.

Gareth scratched and rubbed while Blackie enjoyed the closeness.

Ramos reached up and held his nose. “He stinks.”

Ann was breathing through her mouth instead of her nose while standing and observing with an expression that told of her fascination of the beast. When Blackie raised his head and looked to the sky so that Gareth could reach under his chin with the stick, she smiled.

“He does not stink,” Tad declared, reaching out to touch a claw coated with dried blood, sinew, and a few tufts of hair left over from Blackie’s breakfast—and the dinner the night before, and the breakfast before that.

“He does need a bath. Your grandmother Sara told me that before we left the island,” Gareth said.

Tad said, “She was right, but I like him. I can see into his mind sometimes.”

The information was new. Gareth didn’t doubt it, but that was the first mention that Tad could communicate with Blackie on any level. He found himself both pleased and jealous. Gareth said, “Can you direct him?”

“Like you do? No, he only lets me know some things.”

“Like what?” Gareth asked, trying to lead Tad into explaining what he knew.

“Mostly that he is close and watching me so I’m safe, and that no wild animals or bad men are sneaking up on me. He will make sure of that.”

To his knowledge, Blackie had never communicated with another man. But Tad was the perfect person for the dragon to sense and contact. Pride welled inside Gareth that almost brought tears.

Ramos said, “He’s not as big as the one we killed.”

Gareth fought to keep from attacking the boy, physically and mentally. The statement was one of the few he had made, and the medicine was wearing off. But instead of the many things he could have said, Gareth realized he might learn something if he approached it correctly.

“Ramos, I have a few questions about that other black dragon. Did all of you band together and use your combined minds to kill it?”

“No.”

“Arrows and spears?”

“Poison. The dragon hunted in the lower valley most days so Belcher made Scrod and Hamper, that’s two of the other boys, kill a deer and fill the belly with arsenic. They drug it to a clearing where that black devil would see it.” Ramos shrugged, “Next day that old dragon was shitting a stream and stumbling around like it was drunk or something. Then it fell down and shook itself to death.”

Gareth fought to remain in control of his emotions. Ramos had no idea of the hurt his words caused. “Arsenic? What is that?”

“White scrapings from rocks where animals die if they drink water. Belcher made us scrape the rocks until they were clean.”

“It didn’t kill you.”

“We didn’t eat it, but we all got sick. Just like that damn dragon. Crap everywhere, and we puked all day and were dizzy after that. Belcher said we should have been more careful.”

The information was a huge relief in one way. Cinder was not killed from the ground. Blackie would be safe to fly over the valley and Gareth wouldn’t have to fear an unknown mental attack that would kill the dragon. He would make sure Blackie didn’t eat anything from around there, especially anything already dead.

Gareth continued scratching Blackie, but his mind was elsewhere. Belcher had made the four boys gather the poison with the intent of killing someone, something, or many things. He had almost killed the boys, but maybe he didn’t know what they were doing was so dangerous. Yes, he did. Gareth couldn’t help contradicting himself. Belcher knew exactly what he was doing.

If there was one thing Gareth felt that he knew for sure, it was that Belcher didn’t care about others. That simple. He didn’t care about anything or anybody but himself. A glance in Ramos’ direction confirmed that. The boy weighed far less than Tad despite being taller. The sores on his arms and legs were covered in ointments and not as red and infected as two days ago. His bath had also improved his looks and Ann had washed his hair with lye soap, letting it set until it almost burned the scalp, but it had killed the lice and other vermin.

A change of subject was required. He told Blackie to fly above and look for other men. They all felt the power of the animal as if flapped its wings and dust rose. All four placed forearms in front of their eyes to keep the sand and dust out, but all watched the majesty of a dragon taking air. While it flew, Gareth used his mind to search, finding the area devoid of people.

Turning to the bundle the dragon had dropped, Gareth said, “Let’s go see what the Brotherhood sent to us?”

As one, they turned to the ropes that circled the bundle in every direction. Where ropes crossed, knots had been tied so the result was the bundle appeared wrapped in a huge fishing net. Even Ramos helped, although his movements were slow and deliberate.

When the ropes were pulled away, they found a large heavy cloak and three smaller ones. All were instantly worn as the chill had them wearing their blankets like cloaks. Only Gareth had gone without. But the old blankets were thin, intended for much warmer temperatures. The new blankets, eight of them in all, were far heavier.

The Brother had also included fur wrappings for their feet, something Gareth hadn’t requested or anticipated. But at the peak of the pass, there might still be snow on the ground. Then there were cloths wrapped around food. Bread, cheese, sliced meats, and fruit. Another held several grains; oats, wheat, and barley along with dried plums, peaches, and apples. It also contained at least three kinds of nuts.

Gareth estimated there was enough for ten days if they ate sparingly and supplemented the supplies with what they found along the way. Blackie could always bring a deer, and they could cut off what they needed and give the rest back to him.

The thought of Blackie brought another idea. What if Belcher was so angry that Gareth was crossing the mountains that he pursued them? They might even set a trap for Gareth’s return. Blackie could keep an eye on the road.

Ramos’s information about poisoning Cinder cleared the way for Gareth to use Blackie to fly over and observe. The dragon would not wish to fly over the corpse of the dead dragon, but Gareth could work around that. The house and grounds near the lake were where he expected to find Belcher. His other three helpers were probably nearby.

Blackie could find and keep a watch on them while eating live animals far away. Gareth felt certain he could communicate the danger without eating in the valley, or anywhere within a two-day walk.

“Hats!” Tad cried, placing one on his head and performing a silly dance as he pulled the fur earflaps down.

Ramos gingerly pulled on a hat, probably the first he’d ever worn, and the smile returned for an instant, but his eyes were on the food. Like all small boys, he was always hungry. But for him, food was a luxury. Belcher had provided only the most meager of meals. However, Gareth was willing to place a hefty wager that when he laid eyes on Belcher, he would find a boy who overindulged, but only for himself.

“Let’s all eat,” Gareth said. No sense in prolonging Ramos’ anxieties.

Ann had much of the food spread on a blanket, and she found two bundles wrapped in material. Inside were hard biscuits, the kind sailors take on voyages that last weeks or months. Each was thin, hard, and tasteless unless garlic, onion, or herbs were included in the dough before baking.

Similar biscuits had become a favorite of Gareth’s when he was young. If stored in a dry place he had food to look forward to during the long mountain winter where animals hibernated or hid, fruit and vegetables could not be found, and the biscuits had often been his only food. Over time, he’d come to enjoy them and during his time on Bitters Island, he’d often traded sailors for them. Sara discouraged the act, telling him he needed to eat a healthy diet. The pang of missing her was almost physical.

Ramos’ eyes were wide at the sight of all the food. Gareth reached for two biscuits and handed one to the boy. There were two tricks to eating them. Never hurry because they were so hard, and keep water nearby.

Managing to bite off a sliver, Gareth waited for it to soften in his mouth, finding that it contained garlic and at least one more spice he didn’t recognize but found he liked. Ramos did his best to take a large bite and when he failed he broke off a smaller piece by wriggling the biscuit up and down until it broke off.

Gareth sat and motioned for Ramos to join him. The boy looked wary but finally sat at the far edge of the blanket where Gareth’s fist wouldn’t reach him. Gareth said, “We have not had much time to talk.”

Ramos said nothing. His eyes looked for a way to escape as he chewed the biscuit.

Continuing, Gareth said, “I notice you are not scratching your head all the time. The medicine Ann put there killed the lice, but they can come back. Tell her if your head itches again and she will apply more soap.”

Ramos looked calmer until Tad ran up and leaped onto the blanket. Ann, understanding Gareth’s intent, took Tad’s hand and said, “You and I need to take a quick walk.”

“The sores on your legs and arms look better. I imagine they do not hurt like they did. When you finish that biscuit, there is more food for you. All you wish.”

The boy kept his eyes averted, but he gnawed on the biscuit until it was finished. Gareth didn’t speak again until he asked, “What else would you like to eat?” as he waved his arm to encompass all the food spread on the blanket.

“Water.”

“Me too,” he stood. “Let’s go to that little stream over there. He pointed down the slope and across the clearing.

They walked, Gareth in front and Ramos behind. Without preamble, Ramos said, “Belcher is going to kill you.”

“I know he’s going to try.”

“He kills everyone.”

“Not you. Not the others he brought with him.”

“There used to be more of us. There were three more.”

“He killed them?”

“Two. One died of sickness.”

Gareth didn’t want to push and make the boy stop talking. At the stream, he knelt and scooped water with his hand. The last of the biscuit softened enough to swallow. He scooped more water as he watched Ramos do the same from the corner of his eye.

They were within a step of each other. As they finished, Ramos gathered a round rock twice the size of his fist and tried to conceal it. Gareth turned away but watched from the corner of his eyes. He remained kneeling, feeling the damp of the ground beside the stream soak into the knee of his pants.

The rock fell back into the water. Ramos stood.

They walked back up the slope as if nothing had happened, but it had. Gareth was pleased the boy had let the rock slip from his fingers. It made the next few days easier, but he could not relax his diligence. Not yet. But the fact that Ramos had considered it told volumes. So did dropping it.

Ann and Tad returned. They ate and then placed their supplies on blankets at one end. The two sides were folded over the food in the center. Rolling the blankets tightly secured the food where it could not spill from either end. The fur leggings were tied on the bedrolls. Loops let them carry the bundles over their shoulders.

Walking again, Gareth let the two boys go first. They did not talk. Ann asked, “How did it go?”

“He said Belcher is going to kill me.”

“That seems to be his pattern, but it is good that Ramos told you.”

“It does feel right. He killed two of his own. Another died of sickness but that might have been because of infection or starvation, so he still killed a third.”

Ann was quiet for the time it took to take several steps. When she did speak, her voice was soft, for his ears alone. “Has it struck you that something has changed? The balance you spoke of is upset?”

“How?”

She paused, framing her thoughts before speaking. “If my history is accurate, there has been one, and sometimes two people with your abilities alive at any time. Now there is Tad, Belcher, Ramos, three more, and there were three that died.”

“Gods above, that’s nine.”

“Ten, counting you. Eleven, before your father died. All at the same time.”

Gareth swallowed. Hard, and it had nothing to do with the hard biscuit. “What’s going on?”