Dragon Clan #1: Camilla's Story

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Edward eased another step closer to the camp on the side of the mountain where three people lay sleeping beside the small fire. He’d waited until the moon set, which seemed like half the night, but the sky was clear and stars spread a million pinpoints of light to see by. Should I take out the old woman or the boys, first?

The knife felt awkward in his hand, but the blade was long and sharp enough to slash three throats before any fully awoke. The woman didn’t matter. She was a simple washerwoman. He’d come for the dragon boy. Since he didn’t know which of the two boys was his true target, both became targets. They lay sleeping side by side, a short step apart. He approached from the cover of the tree near the tops of their heads. A single slash might kill both. He would drop to one knee and sweep the knife left to right across their throats, and then back again. Cut each neck twice, to make sure.

He ignored the old woman for now. He’d contend with her after—hopefully within a few heartbeats. By the time she woke and realized something was wrong, he would be cutting her throat, too. Then he’d confirm the dragon mark on the boy. He didn’t plan further than that.

Another step closer. Sweat made him feel damp despite the chill, and his hand shook. One more step and he’d drop to his knee and slice with the knife in almost a single motion. He ran each part of the planned action through his mind until he knew precisely what to do. He took another careful step.

Pain erupted from below his knee. His left leg shot out from underneath him, leaving him precariously balanced on one foot. Then pain exploded from his other leg. Edward dropped, the knife flying from his fingers as he grabbed for his shins and howled, lying on his side.

The sleeping figures leaped to their feet, one holding a sturdy stick raised to strike him again.

“No,” He wailed, raising an arm to protect himself.

The old woman turned to look in the grass where he’d tossed the knife. She returned her gaze to meet his. Without any warning, she kicked him in the chest.

The boy held a staff raised high. He swung it down right after the kick. His chest was already hurt, and a crack sent waves of pain shooting up Edward’s arm. The pole had struck him on the point of his elbow, and besides the intense pain, his fingers failed to open or close. “Enough. I surrender.”

The woman placed a foot on his shoulder and shoved him until he rolled over, so he lay like a turtle on his back, his left arm dead and his legs painful enough to bring more tears.

“Who are you?” the woman snapped.

“Hurts so much . . .”

“Try to pop him on his kneecap, this time, Camilla. Hit him a good one, girl.”

“No,” he rolled partially over, trying to protect his knees.

“Who are you?” she asked, again.

“Edward, son of the Earl of Witten.”

The old woman turned to search the surrounding area. As she did, she said, “Who’s with you?”

“Just me.”

“You would not travel alone. Who? The Weapons Master and Slave Master?”

He looked up at her, giving the impression he was a wayward puppy talking to his mother. “Just me,”

She said, “You came to kill us.”

“No, just the dragon boy.” His eyes went to Brix.

“You planned to kill us all,” She repeated.

He rolled and sat, cradling his arm, tears streaking down his face. He looked directly at Brix and set his chin. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Give him to me and you two can go free.”

The old woman snorted. “We’re already free. It’s you that has a problem with going anywhere.”

“Gold. I offer you gold for the boy.”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off Brix. He had obviously decided Brix was part of the Dragon Clan, and neither corrected the son of the Earl. The woman asked, “You have gold with you?”

“In my purse.”

She fingered his knife, running her thumb along the blade, and went to stand beside him. She bent over and sliced the strings of the purse instead of untying it. She dumped the coins into her hand and looking at Camilla. “Girl, this is more than I’ve seen in my lifetime, even if you add it all up, the coppers I’ve seen pass through my fingers for doing the cleaning for others.”

“It’s all yours if you give him to me.” Edward still kept his eyes locked on Brix as if looking anywhere else might allow him to vanish.

Brix said, “She can’t give you what she doesn’t have. Robin already took your gold, so you can’t give it to her. Camilla looks ready to beat you with her staff. But let me tell you how really bad you are at making bargains.”

Edward tested a leg to stand, a scowl on his face as he realized they intended to keep his gold and give him nothing in return.

Camilla flicked the staff she leaned on, and the lower end swung a few inches. It struck him on his shin again, making an odd, hollow sort of sound. He fell backward, wailing even louder.

Grinning, Brix spun around and flipped up the back of his shirt, displaying skin devoid of birthmarks, let alone those shaped like dragons. “As you can see, I’m not your dragon-boy, and it’s obviously neither of these two women is a dragon-boy.”

Edward shook his head in confusion. “Then, who are you?”

“We’re just sheep herders going to help an uncle with his flock,” Brix said with a sly smile directed only at Camilla and Robin. He pointed, “With my sister and mother.”

Edward hung his head and closed his eyes. After drawing a few deep breaths, he raised his head and looked directly at Camilla. “You’re not going to believe me, but I thank you for preventing me from slitting your throats. I honestly believed you to be someone else, and I would have killed all of you, only to find you’re not whom I seek.”

Brix stepped in front of Camilla and said, “Why do you chase that boy?”

“King Ember ordered it.”

“Are there more who he might send to chase us, thinking we are someone else?”

“Two men. Trusted aides of the King and also searching for the boy.”

“Where are they?”

“Behind me, I think. I don’t know if they’ll find where you left the road, but if they do, they’ll believe you’re the one we seek.”

Brix exchanged looks with Robin. She nodded to him for a job well done.

Edward stood and squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m going to be sore for days, but guess I deserve it for not making sure of who I was attacking.”

The old woman handed the knife back to Edward, along with his purse. “People do make mistakes. You can help us by going back on our trail and if you meet others tell them we are not who they are after. We don’t want to awaken with others trying to murder us.”

Edward’s eyes fell on the knife and purse. He tossed the purse up a few inches and caught it. “This doesn’t feel any lighter.”

“It’s not ours to keep.” The woman said.

“If you did, who would know?”

The old woman snorted, making sounds like most mothers do at times with their wayward children. She waved a hand in their direction. “What sort of example would that make for them? No, I’ll raise them the right way and try to set an example. Now, good sir, I hope you will not take offense, but we would like you to leave us.”

“Leave you? In the middle of the night when it’s so dark? I can hardly see.”

She drew herself up, looking taller. “You already tried to murder us in our sleep once tonight. You saw well enough then. We will appreciate it if you leave us now. Forgive me for not trusting you.”

Edward tried to think of words to express his feelings. There were none. He nodded and turned, his knife in one hand and his purse the other. The stars provided enough light to locate the path, and he walked away, grateful he had not made the biggest error of his life.