Dragon Clan #2: Raymer's Story

CHAPTER SEVEN

The three of them stepped closer to the back of the rear rock wall and grew silent. The men chasing them called encouragement to the ones on the ledge in front, urging them to move faster. The voices and boots stepping on the loose gravel on the ledge allowed Raymer to pinpoint their location. The first of the troops rounded the corner, watching the ledge in front of himself instead of lifting his gaze and seeing the men with staffs waiting.

The soldier never really had time to look up and see them. Quint held his staff chest high at one end, waiting for the man to appear. A solid jab with the end of the staff at the shoulder as it emerged from around the corner sent him toppling over the side of the cliff. As Quint had anticipated, the scream chilled them, and probably petrified the others behind him on the ledge.

The abrupt killing and subsequent scream made Raymer realize he was near to losing his breakfast, but he hadn’t had any. Still, the sour taste of bile filled his mouth, and the abrupt ending of the scream already haunted him. He would hear it again on dark nights. If it affected him so much, what must those following the first soldier think?

He slipped and fell, that’s what they’d think. The next in line would come around the point with more caution, perhaps expecting a rock to trip over, so his attention would be at his feet. He shuffled ahead slowly, his eyes focused on the path ahead as if to avoid the fate of the first.

Standing nearly out of sight, Quint leaped forward and jammed the end of his staff into the man’s chest. If anything, the second man screamed louder and longer, until it was mercifully cut off by a sickening sound of the body striking the rocks below.

“Now they begin to wonder,” Quint said softly. “The next one will peek around before taking a step.”

Raymer watched as Quint raised the end of his staff to head-height and waited. As predicted, a head slowly appeared. Quint slammed the end of the staff into the head. The man toppled over to fall quietly to his death.

Raymer stole a quick glance at Ander. The man looked as ill as he felt. “Quint, is there another way?”

“No.”

“How long do we stay here?”

“Until those above stop sending good men after us.”

They had looked away from the ledge while talking, and a soldier with a sword held high leaped into view, ready to slash. Without thinking, Raymer shifted the butt of his staff in front of the soldier’s feet. Then he struck the staff upward to meet the shins. The man stumbled over the staff, took two quick unbalanced steps and fell over the side, a wild expression on his face, as if he didn’t understand what happened.

His scream was quickly cut short, but none of the three cared to look over the side to see what finished it so fast. Quint said, “I’ll bet the next one will wait until they berate him enough to move.”

Ander said, “I only saw six of them when we were above.”

Quint looked to Raymer. “You?”

“Six.”

“Then I miscalculated,” he eased to the ledge and made a quick move that let him see up the path where they’d come from. “Nobody there.”

“There were six, I swear,” Ander said. “There should be two more.”

Quint nodded, “I believe you. Six. Four we sent over the side. Above is an officer who won’t come down until the way is declared safe, and a coward who’s too smart to come down. Probably he’ll get put into one of my old cells for refusing orders.”

“What now,” Raymer asked.

“We go down. No sense in waiting here for reinforcements to show up. Just senseless deaths from now on.” Quint gathered several rocks and placed them on the ledge where it turned, and then added a few more, further down. He also pulled several strips of leather from the crevasse in the wall and held them up. “Trips. We’ll set these at convenient places along the path.”

Ander gathered the blankets and shirts. He looked at Raymer, eyes tearful. “Did I make a mistake coming with you?”

Quint chuckled, but Raymer said, “It depends. If those men stop chasing us, will I hurt anyone else? No. But if they keep coming, will I kill them? After you answer those questions in your mind, you can either stay or go.”

Raymer turned his back to them and started down the ledge again. The position of the sun told him he had daylight left, but he didn’t want to be stranded by darkness on the ledge. He hurried faster. The trail continued to descend until it ended in a mass of jumbled rocks that had fallen and piled at the base since time began.

The dragon flew nearby again, and Raymer again ordered it away. It seemed that each time he became emotional or fought an enemy the dragon ventured close. It was something to consider and possibly use in the future when one misstep on a path would not end his life.

A trace of a trail started where the ledge ended. Rocks had been cast aside or used to fill gaps between boulders. The footing was surprisingly firm for crossing what is called scree, usually better for broken legs or twisting ankles. He suspected the trail along the ledge had existed far longer than anyone knew, and there had been more manpower to construct it than was apparent.

There was little daylight remaining when they reached to bottom, an area covered with low brush and green trees in the distance instead of the barren landscape above. Looking up, Raymer couldn’t see any soldiers on the top of the cliff, and he hoped he didn’t find the remains of any who had fallen to their deaths. He also hoped the horses they’d paid for were well taken care of, and the old lady who’d sold the horses hadn’t been punished.

Quint said, “That’s a river is ahead. Anybody thirsty?”

The mention of water made Raymer’s mouth all the dryer. He gave a look to Ander, “You still going with us? It’s not too late to claim we took you here by force.”

“I am with you, but barely. Not because I changed my mind, but because I’ve never worked so hard in my life as I did escape from that horrible dungeon.”

Quint said, “Tired, are you? Why this is one of the easier days in my life. Certainly one of the better ones.”

Raymer saw the sparkle of water as he heard the first rush of the swift river. Breaking through a thicket of willows, the cobblestone edge of the river lay ahead. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about water until now. They had been too busy fleeing, but the sight of flowing water stilled him in his tracks.

Quint rushed past and fell on his knees at the edge, placing his face fully into the river. Raymer took hold of Ander’s shoulder and helped him move across the rocks to reach the water. Both slurped their fill, waited until that settled and then drank some more.

Quint pointed to a tangle of brush and small trees on the shore that had washed down the river. “Dry wood for a fire and the sand is a soft place to sleep.”

They limped ahead and settled down for the first time since their escape. Quint fell onto his back, his forearm over his forehead. “Raymer, how’d you manage it?”

“Manage what?”

“That dragon attack. Don’t try telling me it was an accident or coincidence.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“I’ve heard about you guys calling down dragons but didn’t believe it.”

Ander looked from one to the other as he listened to the exchange. Raymer didn’t want him to believe something not true. “My family says some can do it, but I was too young to teach. I didn’t call him down.”

“Do you deny trying?”

“My plan was to have the dragon melt the bars with the slime they spit. We would have covered ourselves in lime and crawled out.”

Quint laughed, “Knocking down the whole damned wall worked pretty well, too. Nothing fancy, but effective.”

Anders shrugged, “You two make me realize how unhappy my life was.”

“How so?” Raymer asked, the comment drawing his attention and curiosity. Ander had been raised in a wealthy family almost as powerful as the kings’. The idea that he might envy two prisoners sounded interesting.

“Oh, it’s hard to explain. I guess laughter among royals is more a weapon than an expression of joy. We laugh to support someone who can help us, or we laugh to ridicule our enemies.”

Raymer didn’t understand but decided to keep their conversations on survival track. He asked, “Will we stay here tonight?”

“Yes. Rest our feet some. Mine are raw from that walk down the ledge. Soak them in the water and get a good night’s sleep. We leave early.”

“What if they come tonight?” Ander asked, his eyes raised to the walls of the canyon above.

Quint snorted. “After seeing and hearing those men fall today, would you dare tread that ledge at night? And if you did, you’d find yourself falling from those trip strings I left.”

Raymer walked to an eddy of the river and sat on a boulder, his feet in the cold, healing water. The coldness numbed them, and they already felt better. “Hey, Ander. We’ve offered you the chance to turn back about three times, so far. I still don’t get why you want to go with us.”

“I’d like to know more about that, too. That is before we reveal all of our plans, and you tell all,” Quint said as if there were more plans between them.

Ander said, “I was the fourth son in my family. My oldest brother inherits a title and lands. I get nothing but a royal appointment to a job nobody else wants.”

Quint growled, “That’s more than most.”

“It is, I agree. But my whole life I was raised a royal. The problem is that I never had an objective, yet any time I tried to do something on my own. My family laughed and told me to stop acting like a commoner. The truth is, I think in many ways I’m more a commoner than royal.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” Quint continued.

Ander sat and considered the question before answering. “I have never accomplished anything on my own. Nothing. I don’t live, I simply exist. When I wished something done, I order others to do it. Maybe you can’t understand.”

Quint said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle and calm. “Actually, I do.”

Raymer swished his feet in the water and pointed across the river to the other side of the canyon. “Is there another ledge for us to climb over there?”

“No. Our feet are too torn up to endure a climb like that anyway. We’ll just take the easy way out.”

“Which is?” Raymer demanded.

“We swim.”

Both Raymer and Ander turned to look down the river. It ran fast and deep, bursting over boulders with plumes of spray, and white water churned the river into a fearsome foe. Crossing it had been a concern, but Raymer couldn’t consider swimming a viable possibility. His swimming had never been very good. Even an expert would have problems. He turned to Quint, expecting to see amusement on his face.

Ander watched the river too, slowly shaking his head in denial.

“It’s been done before,” Quint said.

“Why can’t we walk the shoreline?” Raymer asked.

“Takes too long. Also, further down river the valley narrows and there are steep cliffs that come all the way down to the water.”

Ander was still shaking his head. “Why too long?”

Quint said, “Those other two groups of soldiers on top of the cliff are going to race us to reach the other side of the canyon. They know we’ll most likely emerge with the river so the largest group will be waiting there.”

Ander faced him, a shrewd look in his eye. “There’s more that you’re not telling.”

Quint never flinched. “There is no way up the other side of the canyon. At the top of the canyon, the water comes in over a waterfall, so we can’t go that way. We have only one way out, and that’s down the river. Besides, they’ll send men down the same ledge we took at daylight, and we had better be gone from here. If we have any chance of beating them out of this canyon, we will move fast because even when we get out, if we do, they’re still on our tail.”

“And we don’t have horses,” Raymer amended. “So we run, but our feet are already sore, and they’ll get worse.”

All eyes turned to the pair of fine, green leather boots Ander wore. He said, “Hey, don’t look at my boots. Besides, they won’t fit either of you because I’m normal sized.”

Quint mock-glowered and snarled, “Raymer, did he insult us?”

“It’s not an insult to tell the truth,” Ander said.

Raymer said, “It’s also not an insult to either of us when you admit you’re small.”

“I am not small.”

They all laughed. Raymer said, “My feet feel better. Now for a fire and a good night’s sleep in the open air for the first time in a year.”

“You have flint and steel?” Ander asked.

“Toys for children,” Raymer said. “With all this dry wood washed up along the shore, anyone can start a fire.”

Quint broke branches carried firewood to a growing pile near the edge of the trees while Ander sorted the shirts and blankets. Holding a shirt woven of homespun to his chest, Ander said, “I can fit into this and not stand out so much, but neither of you can wear it.”

Raymer nodded, “Might as well select the one you like and toss the rest. How many blankets are there?”

“Three,” Ander said. “And the two carrying the food.”

Quint said, “Perfect for tonight, but they’re going to get wet.”

Ander wrinkled his nose. “Getting wet is something both of you need to consider.”

Quint tossed a load of firewood at Ander’s feet, almost landing on him. “We would have taken baths and worn clean clothing, but the damned Dungeon Master was too busy chasing the wenches at the castle inns to deliver them. We wore these for most of a year.”

“Who told you about me and my lovely wenches?” Ander shot back with a smile.

Sitting near the firewood and watching Raymer select dry sticks to make the fire, Quint said, “I was speaking of the late Dungeon Master, not you. Okay, I accept that you’re with us. But why? You had a good life, and so far, your reasoning lacks depth.”

“I think my life will get better hanging around with the two of you if we all live. At least, it will have some excitement.”

“How so?” Quint asked.

“Because you, my new friendly giant, are far more than you seem. I believe you are a prince or close relative of the Earl. And Raymer is of the Dragon Clan.”

“Those are not answers.”

Raymer pulled a stout, dry stick from the firewood and a small, log with a split down the center. He peeled a section of the bark and scooped a few dry leaves and small twigs into a pile. He butted the end of the log against a rock and began slowly scraping the stick up and down the crack until the two pieces fitted together.

Quint reached out and sprinkled a few dry leaves and twigs where Raymer worked the wood against the crack. Raymer went to his knees and pushed faster and harder, each stroke in the same groove he was working. A wisp of smoke curled and Quint added more twigs and leaves. He bent closer and blew softly.

A small flame grew. Fuel was added, and a fire sprang to life before the sunset. Quint looked at Ander, “You were saying?”

Ander settled in the sand with his back against a willow tree. “You were an emissary, sent with a peace treaty King Ember had no intention of signing or honoring. To delay negotiations with your people, he pretends he has not seen you while he keeps you imprisoned in his secret dungeon.”

“I heard he sent word to my King asking when I was due to arrive,” Quint said.

“Yes, it was a joke with the King. Since there was no treaty, and he claimed your people never sent one. He plans on attacking your northern province.” Ander turned to Raymer, “And you are even a stranger puzzle. You are a member of a family who, rumor says talks to dragons and does other magical stuff. The Dragon Clan. I’d laugh, but after witnessing your escape, there’s no denying it.”

Raymer squatted and settled back on his heels. “I see where you may benefit from Quint and his wealthy family, but what do you want from me? I have nothing.”

“You have a way with dragons! How can you say that is nothing?”

Raymer shook his head. “You are sadly mistaken, my friend. There are many rumors of men and dragons. I have rarely seen one and suspect that most stories are just stories. I assure you that I had never been closer to a dragon than when the creature attacked the palace today, and I was as scared as anyone else.”

Ander shrugged and cast a half smile in Raymer’s direction. “Forgive me if I believe you’re obviously well-educated and there’s far more to you than we understand.”

Raymer warmed his hands near the fire while deciding what to say, before telling the simple truth. “My mother educated my two brothers and me, as well as half a dozen others. She taught us manners, grace, reading and numbers. She drove us to learn and punished us when we did not. My Father protected us. We lived in tents, huts, and lean-tos while we fled the king’s men.”

“So your claim is that you have no connection to the dragon that freed you?” Ander asked, the faint smile still in place.

Raymer noticed both of them were looking at him with expectant expressions. “I had an escape plan. I hoped to use a dragon, but it had nothing to do with what happened today. The dragon attack was as big a surprise to me as it was to you.”

Quint said, “Someone else directed the dragon?”

“It was not me, but I believe it was directed by a person of my clan. I have never seen that dragon before today.”

As if to make him a liar, his back tingled and as he looked past the other two, he saw a dragon flying low along the ridge where the army that chased him was camped for the night. If he listened closely in the dark, he might hear the screams of some of the men up there if the dragon attacked their campsite.

This night he certainly would hear echoes of those screams from the men they pushed off the ledge on the cliff. Four of them. Each scream distinct and different. Some longer. Some louder. All terrifying.

His body was worn out; sleep would be difficult. And yet it was only the first day of freedom. The King would be furious when he learned of the escapes, as would his cabinet. The goal of killing every member of the Dragon Clan didn’t allow for escapes. Not to mention the political damage Quint might do if he managed to get home to tell his tale to the Earl, Quint’s father.