Dragon Clan #2: Raymer's Story

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Quint rushed into view, his breathing rasping and his eyes wild. He pointed, “A whole damn army is spread out right over that hill. They’re coming this way.”

Raymer said, “Northwood?”

“No, not my people. I think the uniforms are Aare but didn’t get close enough to tell for sure.”

By the time Quint rolled his blankets the others had gathered their meager belongings and gathered in a knot. Quint nodded north. “They’re spread out to the west and south. Our only chance is to move north.”

“How far away?” Dancer asked.

Quint said, “They’ll be here by dawn. It’s a good thing that dragon warned us.”

The five of them formed a single file line with Dancer taking the lead. He seemed to sense where the animal paths and tracks were, and he followed them as if he could see in the darkness. The others merely had to follow and try to keep up as best they could.

Dancer followed the side of the valley traveling up river, or streams when they crossed any. He always took the easiest path that went in generally the right direction.

Raymer appreciated walking instead of riding. He still had several sore places and muscles that were too tight, but walking eased the pain. The pace Dancer set was faster than a horse walked, almost a jog. Sure, galloping or trotting was faster, but a horse soon wore out when ridden at those speeds. A determined man with purpose traveled more distance in a day.

As the sky started to lighten, Dancer had taken them far from the campsite. He turned to Quint, who was last in line, “Think it’s safe to turn east?”

“I was going to suggest the same,” Quint answered.

“Come up here and walk with me,” Dancer said, without friendliness or humor in his tone.

Quint walked faster. As he passed Raymer, he said, “I feel like I’m going to face the headmaster at school.”

Raymer said, “Something you’ve never done before?” However, the byplay only glossed over deeper concerns. He expected Dancer to address some of the same. He tapped Ander on the arm and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder for Ander to take the position in line just ahead of Fleet. Raymer moved closer because he intended to hear what they talked about.

Dancer didn’t mince words or hesitate. “Who are you?”

“Does it matter?” Quint said, his voice cold and clipped.

“It matters if my son and I are going to continue traveling with you. And since you know the location of my family’s village, if your answer doesn’t satisfy me, I have no option but to kill you.”

Dancer didn’t sound like he was bragging or showing off. Raymer stepped faster to close the distance so he wouldn’t miss the answer, not because he intended to get between them.

Quint said, “You might try.”

Raymer had intended to let them do all the talking, but found himself leaping right into the middle despite his reluctance. “He might have help for us, Quint. There are three of us pledged to protect our families above all else. Now if everyone is finished puffing out their chests, the question was reasonable.”

Quint strode several more steps before answering. “I have already admitted to being an emissary carrying a treaty to King Ember and a member of the royal family that rules the Northwood Kingdom. What more do you want?”

Dancer looked to Raymer and received a nod before continuing. “It is said the Earl has one son. A large man.”

“That would be me. Large in all good ways, as I’ve already admitted,” Quint chuckled.

Dancer said, “How important is an Earl?”

Quint might have hesitated, but did not. “An Earl becomes king if there is no direct heir, which there is not. My father is the Grand Earl, so he is the next in line for the crown. And that is the primary reason for the invasion, from the highlands of Aare, if my guess is correct. Some prefer another to sit on the throne when Ember dies.”

They walked in silence for a short while. Raymer said, “If your father becomes king, what will happen to you?”

“I will become the Earl of Northwood, and the next in line to the throne. Of course, my father may abdicate, refusing the throne, so I would be next in the line of succession.”

Raymer couldn’t fathom the idea that the man who had occupied the cell next to him for a year might one day be king. It did explain why Quint had been hidden away in the summer palace dungeon where he could be used as a hostage by the King if it should ever be required. It was also a place of secrecy where only a few people knew about the royal prisoner.

As Raymer considered the implications, he came to the conclusion that King Ember could also deny knowing Quint was held in his remote dungeon. The King could twist the story to one where he found out where the second in line to the throne was being held captive, and then released him.

Dancer also seemed to be thinking instead of talking. Finally, he asked, “Who are the soldiers from last night?”

Quint answered, “That’s a question I cannot answer. I can’t fathom King Ember joining forces with another kingdom to attack Northwood, but it is even more unlikely that they chose the exact same time to invade us.”

Dancer paused before topping a ridge where they could be seen from afar. He turned to Raymer, “So now we have these new soldiers sweeping in from the east, and we have a mysterious group of Dragon Clan at the Summer Palace.”

Raymer nodded and turned to look at Ander. “Add to that, the son of the Earl of Northwood is with us. And he is not the only son of an earl traveling with us.”

Ander had been too far behind to hear much of the whispered conversation. Now he stepped forward. “What is my sin?”

“Coincidence,” Raymer snapped.

“What is a coincidence? I chose, this time, to leave my position and join with you.”

Quint said, “That has still been bothering me, too. Maybe accepted you too quickly.”

Raymer said, “And your answers were vague.”

“You never set out to join us,” Quint said. “You’re here by accident. You woke and found yourself our prisoner and then conveniently decided you wanted a change in your life.”

Dancer said, “I have a question. What would happen to King Ember’s Dungeon Master who allowed his two most important political prisoners to escape?”

All of them looked at Ander with varying measures of distrust. He said, “I have been loyal to you. I have helped you ever since your escape. What more do you want?”

Dancer took a menacing step closer. “I want you to answer my question.”

“I guess the King would put me in one of his other dungeons. Or have me killed.”

“Unless you managed to rectify the situation,” Dancer said. “I notice you often travel at the rear, and you explore around your camps. Alone.”

“Meaning?” Ander asked, his anger rising.

Dancer said, “You might be leaving messages for those following you.”

“That might be the case except, as far as I know there are none following us. If they did, they would find your village, and that hasn’t happened, has it?”

“You’d better hope it hasn’t,” Dancer said.

Quint stepped between them. “Listen to me. Both of you. We have other things to worry about for now.”

“You trust him?” Raymer asked Quint, nodding in Ander’s direction.

“I don’t even trust you,” Quint said with a disarming smile. “But Ander here told the truth a while ago, and none of you heard it. When he woke up after we kidnapped him, he realized the King would have him tortured and killed for allowing us to escape. Sticking with us was his only chance.”

“Not because he wanted a change in his life?” Raymer asked.

“Maybe a little of that, too. But mostly because he saw that if we make it back to Castle Warrington, he can spin it so my family welcomes him as a hero. He is the son of an Earl and therefore in the royal lineage to wear the crown, although his ranking is probably below a hundred.”

Ander’s neck and face tinged pink.

Quint continued, “He is just looking for a way out of a difficult situation. Nothing wrong with that. And he’s right. He has been about as helpful as a high-born son who knows nothing outside a ballroom can be.”

Dancer said, “We had better be moving. I think by going west we can slip past the Aare. Fleet, you go up ahead and scout.”

As if glad to be free of adult conversations and accusations, the youth quickly moved ahead and was soon lost to sight in the scrub and thick brush. They moved quickly, their travel more downhill than up. By midday, the steep mountains gave way to rounded hills, some with wide valleys of grass and streams.

The warmth of the day and the surroundings made it almost seem as if they were out for a walk rather than a rescue mission. Raymer realized the warmth he felt on his back was more than the sun. It was the dragon again. Carefully, so the others didn’t notice, he raised his eyes and scanned for the creature, but didn’t spot it. Still, it was near enough for him to feel.

He shifted his attention to Dancer, looking for any sort of recognition the dragon was fairly close. When nothing revealed itself, Raymer wondered if he was more sensitive. If he tried, could he call the dragon to this place? He felt he could, but longed for a conversation with a Dragon Clan elder, like Myron. Just the two of them. The one thing he felt sure he knew was that he knew almost nothing of bonding or of being an adult in the Dragon Clan.

“How far to Northwood?” Raymer asked.

Quint shrugged, “Technically we’re there, I believe, at least near the border. Fairwinds Province is almost due west if I have my directions right, and my home is there.”

“Castle Warrington?” Raymer asked.

“Does that bother you?” Quint said while walking on and never turning his head.

Raymer followed in silence for ten or twelve steps. “Yes, I guess it does. My family, like all the Dragon Clan, has been persecuted and put to death by royalty for generations.”

Dancer slowed and allowed them to catch up a few steps, his head cocked, and he listened for the answer.

Quint shrugged, and his back stiffened. “If you’re looking for an apology or a promise of some sort, forget it. You have stories of persecution. I have stories of massacres from dragons attacking innocent villages.”

“And of people who have strange powers they use to defeat ordinary people. What chance do normal people have when flying dragons are on the side of their enemies?” Ander said. “Dragons that swoop down and spit fire and burn towns and villages at the whim of your people. Who knows what else your witches control. People get sick and die, cattle catch diseases, crops fail, and wells dry up.”

Quint picked up Ander’s line of thinking as if he shared the same thoughts. “After your people curse us with those things, do you wonder why we hate you?”

“We cannot do all those things,” Raymer said, disbelief clear in his voice.

“Let me have my say,” Quint continued. “You say that your family cannot do all those things. Which of them can they not do? No matter. Whatever they can do is more than any in my family or any in my kingdom. Our greatest fear is that somehow the Dragon Clan one day gains power.”

“We are just people,” Raymer said louder than he intended. “We do not have the powers to kill your crops or dry up wells.”

For the first time, Quint pulled to a stop and spun to face Raymer. “Would you say differently if it was true? Wouldn’t you try to protect your family and clan at any cost?”

Raymer looked to Dancer for help.

Dancer looked at the ground near his feet and spoke in a halting voice as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “For the first time in my life, I see both sides.”

“Meaning?” Raymer asked.

“Our dragons have protected us. I know they do not spit fire as well as you, but what they do spit erupts into blue fire when touched by a flame. What their acid spit touches might as well be burns, so I see why they fear us.”

Raymer said, “We don’t do any of the other things!”

“No,” Dancer conceded, “but how easy is it to blame us when a well goes dry? If I was one of them I’d believe it, too.”

The turn of events gave Raymer pause. He faced Quint from only a single step away, so close he had to tilt his head back to see his face. “If that is your belief, why am I helping you rejoin your family?”

For once there was no humor in Quint’s voice. “To gain my favor? To hope that even if I do not ever wear the crown I may still influence those in power to halt our conquest of the Dragon Clan?”

The accusation enraged Raymer. His fist acted as if it had a mind of its own. Without drawing back or signaling its intention in any manner, his fist shot out and struck Quint high on his left cheek. His other fist sank into Quint’s stomach. Quint doubled over, and Raymer’s knee came up.

Quint was down on his back. Blood ran freely down both sides of his face and from his nose. His eyes were closed.

Dancer knelt at his side while talking to Raymer. “Well, that was impressive and did us a lot of good. When he wakes, he’ll probably tell tales of magic that felled him like a woodsman felling a small tree.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. It just happened like I was someone else.”

“Don’t say that. It will only make it worse. I had the impression he was telling us what people think so that he might help change things,” Dancer said.

Quint’s eyes opened but clearly didn’t focus. When he found Raymer, he drew back.

“Sorry,” Raymer said.

“Then I hope I’m never in your way when you do mean to fight,” Quint said, as he sat up and wiped the blood from his face with the front of his shirt.

Raymer watched him closely. If Quint climbed to his feet and wanted to continue the fight, Raymer decided he’d run. Quint had the mass and power to rip him apart. The only reason he’d managed to win was that first punch had been unexpected and solid.

Quint said, “Made you mad?”

Raymer just nodded.

“Good. I didn’t expect you to attack, but I was trying to explain what we face. I trust you, even more since you reacted so strongly. You might lie, but your emotions don’t.”

Ander asked, “That was a test of some sort?”

Quint glanced at him. “Hopefully, one that you understand.”

“Well, I don’t,” Ander said.

“Men will lie to your face, but their innermost emotions are how they truly feel, Ander. Raymer attacked me because he thinks of me as a friend and I betrayed our friendship.”

“Why? It still does not make sense,” Ander said.

“So that I would know his true feelings. I wanted to consider him a friend, but I had to know if he was using me.”

Raymer knelt beside him and used his sleeve to blot the blood still seeping from his nose. “What is your conclusion?”

“That you have never lied to me.”

Raymer felt his eyes threaten to water. He said, “Have ever lied to you.”

Quint said, “You admit you can call on dragons to attack your enemies?”

“I admit that it may be possible. Whether I can do it or not is still unknown, but I believe some of my people can.”

“The rest?”

“All untrue,” Raymer said. “Every word. Dancer, am I correct?”

Dancer said, “Raymer is right in most of what he says. All the other things people say about us are lies of one sort or another, but we can feel when dragons are nearby. If we are in fear, the dragons become agitated and often come to our rescue like they would defending one of their chicks.”

“That is all?” Quint asked, standing up on unsteady legs.

“No,” Dancer said. “There are stories of some of us become bonded with a dragon. In a fashion the dragon and man share thoughts, but it’s a rare thing that I never believed. Until today, that is.”

Quint looked at Raymer and rolled his eyes. “You share thoughts with a dragon and never told me?”

“I have never even heard of this word bonding until today.”

Fleet returned, confused, at first, looking from one and then the other. Instead of commenting or asking questions, he said, “There’s a valley up ahead. Crops of grain and several farm houses in sight. A road, too.”