Dragon Clan #2: Raymer's Story

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Not long after, the trees and undergrowth thinned and they stood in a meadow facing perhaps twenty people he’d never seen. There were goats, dogs, men, women, and children. Everyone stood quietly and looked at them as if they were strange animals from a far land. Perhaps they were.

They looked like ordinary people, but Raymer knew different. He pulled to a stop at a respectable distance and waited.

Meryn stepped beside him and said in a strong, firm voice, “I bring a member of our clan seeking refuge. His name is Raymer, from the family at the Raging Mountains.”

A single older man stepped forward. “I am Myron, Meryn’s father and the leader of this family. Will you present to me your back?”

Without hesitation, Raymer turned and lifted his tattered and too-small shirt. He waited until all in the group saw his dragon, then he faced them again. Myron turned and raised his shirt. He said, “Ordinarily, this is the time I’d invite you to eat with us and welcome you. However, times are different, and I understand you wish to stand in front of the elders with your companions as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You do not wish to eat first or have someone care for the bleeding feet of the giant?”

“When is the earliest we can meet in council?” Raymer asked.

Myron glanced nervously at those standing behind him as if mentally counting and making a difficult decision. “Is now too soon?”

Raymer said, “That would be best. I think you’ll agree when you hear us.”

Myron motioned for them to walk down a dirt road that led between about twenty huts, ten on a side. A few dogs ran to investigate the new smells. A fast flowing stream cut the village in half and there at the stream was a semi-circle of seating on stumps and logs that had been placed there for seating, leaving a raised dais in the center. It served as a stage or podium for the village.

Myron stepped up on it, raising his hands to the crowd that followed. “We have an unusual situation. Our family member has brought two outsiders with him. He wishes to speak with the elders and we will grant his request. I will have the elders gather here, along with Camilla and Robin. We require privacy.”

Dakar stepped forward and dumped their belongings into the dirt, along with their staffs. He said, “I will remain standing guard.”

Myron quelled a twitch of a smile. “They come in peace, Dakar. We will not require a guard, but I thank you for your intended service.”

As the crowd dissipated, three men arrived together. One limped on a crutch, another looked too old to walk, but managed slowly, and the last was a powerful man of about fifty years, a warrior, by the way, he carried himself. A woman of middle age walked down the slope, a girl in her early teens beside her.

Myron motioned for the elders and the two women to sit on the stumps nearest the dais, then he pointed at Raymer, Ander, and Quint. “You three up on the stage where we can see and hear you.”

When everyone was in place, Myron said, “You have asked for this council meeting. There are a few things we need to understand between us. Outsiders cannot leave, nor can they live here in ordinary circumstances, however, in recent years, we have waived, or relaxed that rule. It would take but one traitor to bring down the king’s wrath on this village.”

He looked at each of them as he spoke, but as if sensing the impending danger, or maybe just wanting to find the reason for the council, he spoke rapidly. With a wave of his arm, he said, “These men are the elders you face and who will judge you. Camilla, the girl, is new to us, but she lived with outsiders her whole life and may hold some insight to your words, so she is here. Robin is the woman I spoke of earlier. She is only the second outsider to ever be welcomed into the Dragon Clan to my knowledge.”

Raymer didn’t feel as confident as he expected. The men looked hard but honest, the girl held a stern expression, and the woman appeared as if she didn’t like them at all. He understood. The three of them were a threat, even though they didn’t intend to harm the village. Their very presence was a danger, and all wanted to hear the extraordinary circumstances of the council.

Myron continued, looking directly at Raymer as if he stood alone. “You have a story to tell.”

Where to begin? He looked at Quint and pointed. “This man is of royalty in the Northwood kingdom. A year ago, he carried a treaty to King Ember, but was thrown into the dungeons and betrayed. The King has now assembled his troops and is moving them to the Northwood Kingdom border for a sneak attack.”

Myron asked, “What do we care of the wars of others?”

“You care for these reasons. Innocent people are going to die. A lot of them. And if King Ember wins this war, he controls all the lands surrounding your homes. All of it. There will be a thousand soldiers at your doorsteps, and they will locate you.”

A few exchanged glances, but nobody spoke, and Raymer felt he hadn’t convinced them of anything. “Quint here is my friend and a member of a powerful family. He is of the Earl’s family. If this invasion is defeated because of what happens here this day, the King will have fewer men to hunt us down, and we will have someone with great power who can help us.”

Robin said, “The deal you offer is that we help this man by warning Northwood, and he may help us sometime in the future. That is, if he remembers us, or does not use his own soldiers to slay us.”

Raymer said quickly, “At the very least, we prevent King Ember from becoming more powerful and surrounding your village.”

The man who used a crutch asked, “Who is the other man with you?”

Raymer felt his heart sink. He drew in a breath while trying to think of the right words.

Before he could speak, Ander stood, chin held high. “I was the Dungeon Master at the Summer Palace for King Ember, recently appointed to keep these two in my dungeon until the end of time.”

Ander sat without another word.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Myron said.

Raymer shrugged. “There is much more to the story, but we don’t have time. Right now, we just wish passage to Northwood and a fast route to take. We are trying to save lives, and in case you haven’t figured it out yet, if the King wins this war your whole village is in the middle of people trying to please a King who is paranoid about the Dragon Clan.”

“We can leave . . .” the warrior said.

“No, you can’t. There isn’t time. Defeating this invasion will protect this village and give you future options, ­­­­” Raymer said.

The young girl stood and said, “You are asking us to take risks for things I do not understand. What I do understand is that you came here and gave yourselves up to us so you can help others. But didn’t that put us at risk?”

The other woman said, “Why did you come here? Travel north of Bear Mountain has many roads and ways to travel quickly.”

The man with the crutch raised it and pointed it at Quint. “The Earl is named Brant. He is a large man, almost as large as you. Are you the son of Brant?”

“I am.”

“I met him once, long ago. He was a fair man. A farmer’s barn had burned along with his animals and tools. The Earl relieved him of the taxes he owed, and ordered a new barn to be erected. He also gave him two mules and said he’d be collect the taxes the following year.”

The warrior said with a sneer in his voice, “So he did a good deed. He’s rich.”

The man with the crutch said, “The King demands his taxes every year. Who do you think paid that farmer’s taxes?”

Robin said, “What does it matter?”

The man with the crutch stuck out his lower lip before saying, “It matters because it tells of the kind of man he is. Quint, are you the same?”

“Sir, I wish I could say yes, but who knows?”

Myron said, taking control of the meeting again, “If you had said yes, I’d not believe you. Actions tell of a man, not brags. Is there more we need to hear?”

Ander stood. “Here is a possible answer. Have Quint write a message to his family so they can mass troops and protect their homeland. One of your people can deliver the message. Kill us to protect yourselves and your families from our betrayal.”

“Hey,” Raymer said. “That’s not a deal I agreed to.”

Someone laughed, but without humor.

Ander stood firm. “Think about it. My plan solves all the problems.”

Quint said, “Shut up, Ander. Sit down and behave yourself.”

“He has a point,” the girl called Camilla said. “If we are surrounded by the King we have no way to escape. He will discover information about our village at some time, and we all know that will happen one day. That is why we have daily patrols to keep people away. To keep our village safe.”

The warrior said, “I vote to kill them.”

Myron held up a hand. “Enough. Unlike most, this decision is time-related. More discussion may allow the events to play out, which is a decision in itself.”

When a few people started speaking at the same time, Myron stood and held up both arms, his face stern. “Quiet! I have decided. We will assist these men on their mission.”

A stunned silence followed.

Myron pointed to the warrior. “Dancer, three horses, and supplies as fast as you can.”

The man clearly had been against them, and Raymer expected him to object, or show his displeasure in some method. Instead, he leaped to his feet and raced down the meadow in the direction of pasture, calling to others to join him in his task. Raymer felt a stab of pride. The man’s actions were the very essence of the Dragon Clan’s ideals.

Myron turned to speak to Raymer again, “This was difficult, but you must understand my reasoning. I looked not at how this affects us today, but in the future. Allowing you to continue your quest may let my family exist here. Preventing you may end our lives.”

Raymer said, “You haven’t mentioned the danger of either of these two revealing your location in the future.”

“Times change. We have recently allowed Robin to live with us in defiance of our traditions. There is also a boy we took in. We adapt or die.”

Camilla asked Raymer, “Have you ever called down a dragon?”

“I have asked for one to turn while flying. It did. I tested it more times and each time it hesitated but did as I asked,” Raymer said.

She nodded and looked to Myron. “We have those born with the mark but for one reason or another are not what we consider good or honorable. Dragons do not obey them, I hear.”

Robin said, “Tell us about how you escaped the dungeons and why is a Dungeon Master with you. Do it quickly, before you leave.”

Raymer said quickly, “The Dungeon Master is a good man. Too good for the position he was appointed to. Our escape is a mystery I hoped you could explain. My plan was to call down a dragon to spit on the iron bars and use the lime in the mortar to allow us to escape. Before I could put my plan into action, a dragon attacked the Summer Palace and used its body to shove the wall until it caved in.”

All exchanged looks. Clearly none had further information, but it concerned them all. Robin asked, “Was there more?”

Raymer shrugged, then decided to tell about the apples and carrots. He watched their faces closely, finding only interest.

The man with the crutch asked, “Could it have been your family in the Raging Mountains who helped?”

“No. I mean it could have been, but they would have done it differently. The boy or girl who delivered the apples would have allowed me to see them. Just long enough to recognize and I’d know they were there to help and prepare myself. I also believe they would have placed people, or maybe a horse, outside the palace gate to help me get away.”

“It’s obvious that a third group of the clan helped you. Someone unknown.” Myron said, softly. “In this area, there are only two families. There are others further away, but they would come to your family or mine for support if they came to help you.”

The man who was the oldest and could barely walk cleared his throat. All attention turned to him. “I would offer a possibility. Like Camilla, who survived alone for most of her life, suppose there is another. Or a mother and children, with no clan affiliates. They may not even know we exist.”

His statement stunned them all. Camilla had been an exception, but she was the survivor of an attack by the king’s army and her family slain. She had escaped by accident. But the families had long ago dispersed for safety and remained in contact with the young people moving from one family to another.

Myron said, “This worries me more than anything else you have said. Unaffiliated members of our clan might bring far more troubles to us. It might be unintentional, but they might more harm.”

A boy no older than four ran into the group eager to confront the newcomers with his thousand questions. He pulled to a stop in front of Quint, looking up with amazement. When Quint smiled, the boy blurted, “Do you want to see my back?”

Quint knelt and nodded. The boy spun and pulled his shirt up.

“Now that is about the best-looking dragon I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve never seen it because I can’t see my back,” the boy giggled.

“Is there a mirror in the village?”

“I don’t know what that is. Do you want to see my puppy?”

The warrior who had attended the council was returning, leading two horses while another led the third. Quint told the boy he’d return and play with the puppy, but had to leave. Raymer was struck again at how large Quint was. Next to the boy he was a tree to a shrub, but the difference in size did not scare the boy.

It would scare any opponent. Raymer looked at the horses, suspicious about the quality of the animals the warrior would select. All were prime animals, two bays, and a chestnut. All mares, with sleek coats and they, almost danced in anticipation of riders. They wore saddles and bridles, and the woman called Robin returned with a sack. She held it out to Quint.

“Food. Traveling food,” She said.

A boy just growing a beard, the one they called Brix was carrying a load of clothing in his arms. He paused in front of Raymer. “Clothes. I think they’ll fit. They have to be better than what you have on. We have a few larger men in our village.”

Raymer tossed his head at Quint. “As big as him?”

Brix nodded. “Almost.”

They changed where they stood. To the surprise of all three, the clothing did fit. Ander was easy, of course. He was a normal size. Raymer found his were slightly large, still better than he’d worn in a year. But Quint’s were almost a perfect fit. Raymer glanced around, not seeing anyone to fit the large clothing. I wouldn’t have wanted to have the owner of those snooping around my camp in the middle of the night.

Stiff, heavy woven green cloth and soft leather made the clothes almost look like uniforms. All were well worn and patched, and all would blend into the background of the high mountains.

Raymer felt tears of thanks and relief threatening, so to divert the flood, said, “What can you tell us about the way?”

The warrior pointed east. “You will follow a trail up that valley.”

“To where?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll catch up with you soon after we get a couple more horses from the high pasture.”

Raymer said, “I should have figured that out before now.”

The man turned on his heel and walked away, his temper held in check. Myron said, “He’ll make sure you take the best route, and if need be he’ll protect you.”

Raymer mounted and said, “I have been headed to this village for a full year. I’ll be back.”

“Good luck on your mission,” Myron said, and others of the group smiled or nodded. A few other villagers had arrived at the council ring to gawk at the visitors, but most watched from afar, sensing the importance of the meeting.

Raymer took in the village, again. The homes were sturdy with steep roofs for the heavy winter snows. Stacks of firewood reached the rooflines, and sheep, goats, cows and pigs were in fenced off areas or pens. However, the entire village gave a sense of temporary occupation, a lack of permanence. The homes were little more than huts, and while the area was clean and orderly, there seemed an air about it that said everyone could disappear overnight.

Ander stood beside the young man Brix, another outsider. Brix looked like he was telling Ander how he’d come to live with the Dragon Clan, but spoke quickly because Quint was mounted and ready to ride. Raymer turned his horse and kicked his heels. The bay responded as if they were old friends, as it leaped ahead and galloped across a meadow and found the trail with little help.

The valley looked much the same as the other side of the mountain, with the exception the general slope was downward, although there were still many hills. Raymer heard the hooves of the two horses behind and didn’t bother to turn his head. He pushed the horse to maintain a ground-eating pace.

A good part of the day lay ahead and already his bottom felt sore. Raymer shifted positions and half-stood in the stirrups.

The man he thought of as a warrior would probably catch up with them soon, and he’d make a comment about how slow they traveled. He urged his horse faster. The animal was fresh and light on its feet. It sprinted ahead.

Later, rounding a bend in the trail, he found two men waiting. The warrior and a younger man who looked no older than Raymer. As one, they spun their horses and took up positions at the lead.

Must have taken a shorter trail. The warrior had rolled his eyes when they came into view, letting them know how long he had supposedly been waiting. Well, let him be the first to wish to rest. Raymer shifted his butt in the saddle again. He would not beg to stop.

The afternoon wore on, the five of them dipping into valleys and pausing long enough to grab a handful of food while the horses drank. Few words were passed between them, but it became clear when they turned off the main trail that the warrior knew a shorter route.

They camped just after sundown in a grove of cedars. Insects generally do not like cedar or the scent of it, so it was a better selection than it appeared at first glance.

Raymer hobbled his horse and made the fire, still without speaking. Finally, when all were sitting nearby, he turned to the warrior and asked. “Your name?”

“Dancer.”

“You don’t like us?” Raymer asked, expecting a rude response.

Dancer hesitated as if going to lie and deciding to tell the truth. “I don’t want to like you. Killing friends is harder than those you don’t know.”

Quint chuckled and faced him. “Killing Ander will be hard in itself because Raymer is sworn to protect him.”

Dancer said, “And then there is you.”

“Well, yes, there is that, too,” Quint said, using his soft voice.

Ander spoke for the first time all afternoon. “Why would you kill us?”

“To protect the clan.”

“There are two of you and three of us,” Ander said.

“That is just to make it fair,” Dancer said, without a trace of humor.

Raymer glanced at the group after stirring the fire, then turned to the younger guide. “And what is your story?”

“I’m called Fleet. He’s my father.”

Raymer turned back to Dancer, “How long to get to Northwood?”

“Tomorrow. Late.”

Raymer created a mental map in his mind. The armies sneaking into Northwood had an easier route and shorter distance. However, they wouldn’t travel on fast horses, nor light. They would not want to advertise their presence and lose the advantage of surprise.

It sounded like a wash. Longer distance and longer to travel on horses against slower travel and a shorter distance. The problem was that if Northwood didn’t have time to organize a defense, they still lost the battle.

“I want to leave early in the morning. Before daylight.” Raymer said.

“We’ll leave when I say we will,” Dancer said.

Raymer stood and kicked dirt on the fire while turning his back to Dancer and his son. Turned away from them, he said, “Then you can try to catch up with us tomorrow and you won’t have any shortcuts to take this time.”

He watched Quint’s eyes. They would warn him while his back was turned. If either of them made an aggressive movement, he’d leap aside, but none came. These two are supposed to help us. Raymer headed for his rolled blanket.

Quint stiffened, and his eyes shifted. Raymer heard a footfall behind him and bent quickly at the waist. The boy, Dancer’s son, flew over his shoulder and landed in the dirt. He scrambled to his feet for another charge.

“Stop!” Dancer was on his feet and looking at his son.

“He insulted us.”

“He was right to do so.”

Raymer gathered his blanket and carried it to a place away from the fire to spend the night. He pulled the blanket up near his chin. Nobody had spoken again. The night seemed cooler than before. He closed his eyes. After riding all day, he needed to rest.

Raymer woke at a sound of dull thunder. The horses were bucking and rearing. One screamed in terror. Another had already broken free and raced off into the dark. Then another followed it.

His back had the familiar tingle of a dragon flying overhead, but now it stung like a hundred ants biting him at the same time. Ten paces away, in a clearing, pranced a dragon folding its wings and looking directly at him.