Dragon Clan #1: Camilla's Story

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The horse Tomas had provided Edward proved to be a good one, as well as expensive. It had endurance and speed. He could easily leave the boy called Tangos and his rented horse behind. Tangos was a tall, lanky boy of about twenty years. He wore a perpetual smile and didn’t speak much. He told Edward what he needed to know without undue and unearned respect. Tangos didn’t care that Edward would one day be the Earl of this land, and probably didn’t understand it, either.

Tangos worked on a farm in the lower valley. His father owned the farm, as had his father before him. A few days away from the farm fishing or hunting was a treat. A trip to the pass at the top of the valley was a journey to be spoken of for years to come.

Edward instinctively understood the boy. They rode hard, knowing King Ember’s Sword Master and Weapons Master followed. He had no way of knowing how far behind they rode, but he had observed them since he was a child. They clung to the King as he did to them. Each supported the others as if brothers. He also understood his father didn’t like or trust any of them, including King Ember.

His father had placed Edward at the council of the first day to watch and report to him the actions of the sheriff. He was a crony of the King and perhaps the most dangerous of all. The sheriff wished to be royalty, but was born common—and would one day die a commoner. At least, those details were told to him by his father.

Tangos rode at his side on a dun horse of ordinary appearance. However, so far, it had kept pace. He said, “Sir, there are men ahead.”

Edward saw them, dressed in the King’s gaudy colors. “We ride on. I’ll handle this.”

Edward rode directly to the two sentries on duty. “Who is in command?”

“Who asks,” one sentry replied, his palm held high for Edward to see so he would halt.

“I am Edward, son of the Earl of Witten. Now, where is your commander?”

The sentry glanced at the other, and with a nod said, “Ride pass and announce yourself.”

Edward nudged his horse forward. Announce myself?

At a small clearing beside the road several men lay in the grass with others attending to them. “Who is in charge, here?”

A man lying on a blanket, wrapped in bandages raised a weak hand.

Edward dismounted. “Do you know me?”

“Yes, sir. Edward, son of the Earl.”

“What happened here?”

The man tried to lift his head, but it fell back to the grass. His voice sounded no louder than a hoarse whisper, he answered. “We were closer to Nettleton when a red dragon attacked us. It killed six and injured most of us.”

“Why did it attack? I haven’t heard of a dragon attacking in my lifetime.”

“We don’t know.”

“Your mission?”

“Find a boy of the Dragon Clan and take him to the King.”

Edward was taken aback. Another group after the boy? That made three. “You didn’t find him?”

A man missing an arm and wrapped in bloody bandages answered, “That’s what done this, we think. We got too close.”

“Close to the dragon boy?” Edward asked. His attention focused on the speaker, a man of some years, his beard gray and sparse.

“It’s what they do to protect themselves. Get too close and they call a dragon down, to destroy you.”

Edward ignored the commander of the troop. He moved closer to the old man. “You’ve seen this before?”

“Seen and heard of it.”

“The boy. Did you see him?”

The man coughed a red foam. “Went by us during the battle is my guess.”

Edward glanced around at the others. “Anyone see anything?”

Nobody answered for several heartbeats. Then a thin young man sitting with his back against a tree said, “I saw footprints in the dirt on the road. Small ones. Boy or woman.”

“Where were they headed?”

The soldier nodded up the valley.

The road that way was the only direction escape was possible. To the group at large, he asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

The commander said, “Go catch that boy of the dragons.” He tried to laugh and failed.

Edward turned to Tangos. The mental picture of him lying beaten and torn as these men turned him cold. But, he said, “Let’s go.”

The day had enough light left to travel and Edward intended to use it. He set a faster pace, and said to Tangos, “If we see a dragon you are to escape and return home.”

“I cannot leave you.”

“I am ordering you to run like the wind and leave me.”

Tangos shook his head. They rode in silence and Edward considered sending him home immediately. “Why not?”

“What would people say about me if I ran and you died?”

“They wouldn’t know.”

“I would tell them.”

Yes, he would. The damn boy was honorable. Nothing worse in politics. He pushed the horses to move faster. His eyes kept a watch on the sky, and he noticed the boy looking up more than once. Near a granite boulder standing on the left side of the road, Tangos pulled up.

“What is it?” Edward asked, fearing the worst.

Tangos pointed to a scuff mark in the dirt.

“Does that mean something?”

Tangos shrugged as he climbed down. And walked to look at the marks. He knelt. “A footprint going that way,” he pointed. “Someone tried to hide it by brushing dirt over it.”

“Really,” Edward said, dismounting, his interest flaring. “How long ago?”

“Not long. See, the edges are still damp, that’s what caught my attention. Before long it will be dry.” Tangos moved to the edge of the road and knelt again. “A foot smashed this plant.”

“Look for more. What else do you see?”

Tangos moved to the underbrush in line with the two indications he’d pointed out. He motioned for Edward to join him. A broken branch on a bush was bent in the direction someone had passed. Near the shrub was the small footprint of the person who broke the branch.

Edward moved further into the brush and found more prints. Away from the road, there was no need to hide them. He looked at Tangos and kept his voice low. “What is over that way?”

“Cliffs and more mountains, I’ve heard. It may be true. Maybe not.”

“Why would they head that way?”

“I have no idea. Unless it is to turn around and throw off pursuers. There are other villages that way, and, of course, Nettleton, but that would be a long trip.”

“What else can you tell me about the footprints?” Edward asked.

Tangos said, “Two people, at least. No, three. I see small tracks and some slightly larger.”

“Can a horse make it up the trail?”

Tangos said, “That isn’t even a trail. No, I’d say. If anything horses will slow us down.”

Edward strode to his horse and pulled the pack off the rump. “I’m going alone. Help me to get what I need to follow them.”

Tangos didn’t hesitate. He grabbed both blankets and filled them with all the food they brought, then rolled them tightly. The knife he wore on a belt around his waist was handed to Edward as if he’d asked for it. The boy pulled his small purse free and handed that too. “Iron and flint, and some tinder.”

Edward pulled two silver coins from his purse. “Give one coin to the stableman to care for my horse until I return. The other is payment for you.”

“It’s too much, sir. I cannot accept this.”

“I know it’s too much, but it’s all I have. You take your fair share and when I return I’ll get the rest from you.”

“I’ll go with you, sir.” Tangos nodded in the direction the others had gone.

“This is something I have to do myself. One more thing, there are two men following us. They work for the King and are willing to kill for information about the boy I’m after. I want you to take the horses and hide in the forest, but stay where you can see the road. Wait for them. Let them pass before you go home. It will probably be no longer than a day.”

“They’ll not see me.”

Edward gathered his bedroll and started following the faint trail the dragon boy and his accomplices made. He kept his eyes on it because he knew he was not a tracker and those signs were his future and the past. He might find his way back to the King’s Road, but by sunset he didn’t know. Worse, the footprints seemed to be fewer and fewer as the ground grew rocky.

As daylight faded, Edward nearly lost sight of the tracks. Scared, he unrolled the blankets and used one spread on the ground and the other over himself. What if the tracks are gone in the morning? What if it rains?

Tracking is an art he knew little about. For all he knew, the others were only a hundred paces ahead and building a fire would tell them where he was. He might wake to find his throat freshly slit.

He felt gratified to find more footprints as he stuffed a handful of nuts into his mouth. When he climbed to a crest, a mountain with a sharp, snow-covered peak lay directly ahead. The trail he followed through the thick underbrush intersected with a path. There, footprints in the soft sand told that the dragon boy turned and followed the path, the other two still with him.

Edward followed the path, keeping a keen eye on the footprints as well as ahead. He didn’t want to be taken by surprise. In a muddy area, he paused. Three distinct sets of footprints were clear in the wet areas near streams. Not two sets, as expected. All were clear imprints, the edges not yet fallen in and a couple had water still seeping inside. He didn’t need to be a woodsman to see that they were fresh.

How had this dragon boy befriended two others and elicited their help? Or are they of the clan, too?

Edward felt for the comfort of the knife at his waist, a knife with a blade as long as his hand. Now that he traveled the mountains alone, with a goal of locating a member, or members, of the Dragon Clan the knife was a minor comfort.

The sun sank behind the peaks to his right while the path continued left. A warm glow provided enough light to continue on if he moved carefully. Standing, he stretched and moved ahead his mind tossing and turning at the new revelations. His mind had been little more than a large child ten days ago. The changes in him were in his mind, not body.

Edward saw a fleeting glimpse of his father’s smiling face in the tangle of leaves in the dim light. Knowing it was simply his mind creating an image of what he thought about, he turned his thinking to the Earl, his father. It was no secret the Earl was disappointed in his eldest son. Even his younger brothers often mentioned it, especially Robert, the sly second son. If Edward died, Robert became Earl in his stead. In the last two years, Robert had been watching Edward far too closely, and a few of his new friends wouldn’t hesitate to murder.

Yes, Robert had watched and spread rumors. Edward hadn’t responded. But that had been Edward before this venture. The old Edward would never have slept outside under a thin blanket loaned to him by a peasant, especially alone. He couldn’t imagine himself tracking a dragon boy in the wild mountains twenty days earlier.

Edward slowed as the sky darkened, but continued at a steady pace and his thoughts churning. He came to a decision. In the future, if Robert continued to live nearby, he would cause more problems. The lies and rumors had already cost Edward embarrassment and laughter directed at him. If the wrong person gained Robert’s ear, a slit throat or mug of poison would be in Edward’s future. It happened all too often to first sons as their brothers seized power.

The trek became torturous in the dark. It wound winding around the base of the hills and mountains and following the river as the road, the path then headed up the side of a steep hill. Instead of dropping down the other side, it veered off and climbed a small mountain. Once across that, it wound along the edge of a steep side of a larger mountain, forcing him to walk over rocks and boulders strewn at the base, most seemingly intent on turning one of his ankles in the dim light. It became as if the trail fought against him, but where the ground permitted, he saw footprints or tracks and continued. He would not turn back and become a failure. A week or month ago, he wouldn’t have even attempted to pursue the dragon boy. But that was another Edward.

He thought as he moved faster and longer than he’d known he could. As the Earl in waiting, Edward held a great deal of power he’d never considered, let alone used. Power, prestige, and gold. All of them his brother had made known he wanted. As soon as he returned, Robert would be sent away to attend either military training or enter the priesthood in some far off corner of the kingdom, or beyond.

What will father say?

Edward gave that idea some further thought as he struggled across the hillside strewn with fallen rocks and stones. Instead of being irate or angry, the Earl would understand and approve. After all, his father also had a brother who now served as an officer in the King’s army. Family tales and rumors hinted that his uncle had attempted to assassinate his father with a dagger on a dark night before being sent off. He had been sent to an academy near far-off Bridgeport, near the Three Islands. No, the Earl wouldn’t be upset, he would probably be pleased with Edward for showing courage and strength. If he was not, Edward steeled himself to fight for his position in the royal family.

In a flash of understanding, he knew why his father had allowed him on this mission. He wanted Edward to grow up. He wanted Edward to react exactly as he had. Anything less would mean that perhaps Robert was a better candidate for the position of Earl. The awareness of the whole picture gave him a comfort he hadn’t felt in years. He lowered his head and trudged on.

A faint noise from ahead, halted Edward in his tracks. It was a voice carried on the evening air, from directly in front of him. He placed one foot in front of the other and gently put weight on it to test if a branch or stick lay under. One small step followed by another. And another.

Smoke drifted to him. Just a trace of a campfire.

A few more steps and the small fire came into view beyond the crest of a slight rise. It was built in a tiny clearing against a short cliff, barely taller than a man. Three bodies huddled close to the fire, talking softly. Their bedrolls lay a few steps away.

Edward paused and watched. They talked, and one tossed a few more sticks on the fire. Another turned as if peering deeply into the forest looking almost right at him. He realized the face was that of an old woman, familiar and unknown at the same time. He’d seen the woman in Nettleton.

He waited and watched them without edging closer. The other two were nearly the same size, but even their actions while sitting, were those of children instead of mature people. The one sitting closest to the old woman had his back to him, but the other turned to respond to something another said. The small fire danced light off his face. Edward had never seen him, but he matched the description given to him. It could be the dragon boy. The age looked about right. Finally, the third person stood and turned his way. It was another boy matching the description.

The sheriff had warned him to observe the bare back of the wild boy and see if the image of a dragon was on it. His orders were to observe the drawing of the dragon without the boy knowing, but now that the boy was escaping into the mountains the rules changed. The boy already seemed alerted. Edward couldn’t think of a way to see his back and remain hidden when the boy was living as usual, but it seemed an impossible task, now. The sheriff had probably wanted him to observe it secretly and report back so that he could travel to Nettleton, and capture the boy himself, taking all the credit, as usual. He had just wanted confirmation before making the trip.

The days when officials like the sheriff took advantage of Edward were gone. With the new Edward, the sheriff would be subject only what little credit for the deed Edward offered. He would accept the crumbs falling from Edward’s beard and like them. It was a fair trade for the payment of the embarrassment concerning the circus that followed him to Nettleton, at the hands of the sheriff. Capturing the dragon boy would give Edward unlimited power over the sheriff, and a favor owed from the King and his father, the Earl.

The knife found its way into his hand as he watched them ready themselves for the night. Wait until they sleep.