Dragon Clan #4: Gray's Story

CHAPTER EIGHT

Gray slept late. The combination of ale, which he was unused to drinking, and the long days of walking across the drylands had tired his body to the point that he felt fifty instead of twenty-five. Added to that was all he’d learned in one short day. His mind churned as he recalled one point after another. He couldn’t keep to one line of thoughts before leaping to another.

The smells of cooked meat and baked bread swirled around the room as he dressed. The chair braced against the door reminded him of Prater standing in the dark and watching his room. A glance out the window told him it had not rained. Too bad. But he felt certain that if he had left the inn, Prater would have followed. Gray slipped his knife back into the scabbard and peeked out the shutters to see if anyone in the alley watched the inn. If they did, he didn’t see them.

At the foot of the stairs, he caught the small hand-sign to sit at Bear’s table. Gray sat and immediately a serving girl appeared at his side. It was good to sit with the owner and get the best service. Soon the table held bread, preserves, butter, and a bowl of steaming mixed grains sprinkled with a brown spice that was both sweet and strong.

Bear nursed a mug of hot cider, mixed with a dark ale. He suggested Gray try a cup, and before long it also sat in front of him.

Bear said, “You slept late, but that was expected. Feeling better?”

“I do,” Gray said between a spoonful and biting off a hunk of bread that was soft and warm inside with a hard crust on the outside. He used the knife at his hip to spread butter and preserves.

“A peaceful night, I take it?”

Gray looked up and paused before answering. He didn’t want to sound like a child scared of the dark. On the other hand, they needed to share information. “I saw someone hidden in the shadows last night. It looked like a man I met on the road. Prater was his name.”

“Tall skinny kid who’s older than he looks?”

“I saw him with Caldor yesterday before we went to the bookstore.”

Gray finished the bowl and declined a refill. He finished the black tea.

Bear tipped his chair back and waited as if deciding to share something with Gray. Then he leaned forward. “I believe Prater spend time in Shrewsbury, along with Caldor.”

The statement was simple enough on the face of it, but there were depths that became apparent as Gray thought about it. Shrewsbury, the port where he suspected the others arrived from Breslau. A small port city. It would seem to test the coincidence to think they had not known each other there. They were certainly friends now. Well, perhaps ‘friends’ was the wrong word. They worked together, friendly or not.

“I see. But I am not wealthy nor a trader. Why would they watch me?”

“Why would Prater go to all the trouble to arrange to meet you on the road? And how did he know when and where to do it?” Bear’s words were gentle, but firm.

Gray had no answer until he remembered the red dragon. It had flown near him and landed where Fleet’s black had been injured. Then it flew off in the direction of the road. The same road where Prater had met him.

Gray said, “I thought Caldor is here in Fleming most of the time. How about Prater?”

“You’re quick to put things together. Prater is often gone. I do not know where, but he is in Fleming less than he is away.”

He watches the road, waiting for us. Gray needed to tell his family. Prater had known where to watch. When he spotted the red dragon he then probably approached any who traveled the road until he found the right one.

At the very least, Prater was a spy for the others. Or for their king. Or he was a bounty hunter after the rewards offered by King Ember. In no sense was he a friend.

Gray’s next thought was that Prater may have had a confederate who backtracked Gray. If he did, Stinson was out there. At least, his body was.

“You’re looking pale,” Bear said.

“I confess that I’m not very good at intrigue. I’m just thinking about all the mistakes I’ve made.”

“Gray, you’re right. You have. But let me tell you something. Those same mistakes brought you to Shailer and me. He and I have been trying to figure out what the hell is going on for about three years, and we think you may be our key. It’s not about us taking sides. It’s about dangers that we believe are coming to our city, province, and kingdom. I’m talking about war.”

“War?”

“I’ll let you decide for yourself, but when you communicate with your family, tell them there are at least two in Fleming who will work with them.”

“If something happens to me?”

“Then we watch for another from your family. I’m sure one or two will come along before too much time passes. We think circumstances are coming to a head.” Bear drew a long breath and waited.

The thought of the red dragon surged to the forefront of his thought. It made Gray change the subject. The red had flown to, and over the road between Fleming and Shrewsbury. Remembering the maps from last night, what lay ahead of the dragon’s flight was the peninsula ridged with mountains, where the greens may have their lair. South of that was Shrewsbury.

But what if the green dragons had sensed and attacked the red? Would he feel the death on his back? The sensitive touches were limited by distance, even for those few who were bonded, but the death of a dragon was felt by all over a vast range. It hadn’t happened since the dragons had fought and fallen into the bay near Fleming. There were those in his family who sensed it then, but only a few. The distance was too far. But he was close. Not even a full day’s walk.

Again, Gray wished he had a method to communicate with his family. Even writing. But, having none made him decide what to do instead of relying on others. With information so important, should he return home now? What choice did he have?

Another idea slipped into his mind as sinewy as any snake hunting prey. Until now Caldor and Prater were the aggressors if seeming to be his friends. Perhaps he could use their actions against them, and at the same time, he might find out more about them than they found about him.

“I have an idea. I’ll go to Shrewsbury but not without looking behind my back every step of the way. Your idea of me working with you gives me legitimacy, and that should be easy enough for all but Caldor and Prater. I think at least one of them will follow me there.”

“I agree. We should visit Shailer and his bookstore soon.” Bear said. “There are also other items to accomplish, such as your stroll with Kelby.”

“Is there a weapons shop that sells quality bows nearby?”

Bear nodded while rubbing his chin. “Oddly enough, there is one on the way, if we travel a different route. Are you ready?”

They walked outside into a late morning sun. The sky was clear, the air warm, and the crowds thin. Bear talked incessantly of nothing as they moved down one street and up another. However, his eyes traveled behind them, to all cross streets, and ahead. His eyes rested on every person sitting at an outdoor café. Bear greeted many of them, and waved to others, but his attention was on who was watching him, and Gray.

Bear guided Gray into a doorway and opened the handle as if he knew the insides well. Gray found weapons lining the walls of all sorts, but mostly bows. He glanced at the short, stout bows favored by the army, the longer lean bows hunters requested, and finally the long bows used in sieges to reach across distances, and arrows high enough to fly over a castle wall.

A man stood behind the counter and nodded to Bear in a familiar greeting. Bear said, “My friend, Gray, needs a bow. Will you see if you have what he likes and put it on my account?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Gray objected.

“If we’re to be business partners, I must pay my portion of the expenses.”

The man behind the counter watched the interchange and asked Gray, “What sort of bow?”

“I want a long bow. One to shoot an arrow as far as possible.”

The man glanced at Gray’s arms and powerful shoulders. He selected a bow from the wall and strung it. “Try the pull on that.”

Gray took the bow, noticing it was thicker than any he’d ever held. He tried the pull and found it slightly too hard. A second was perfect. He had to pull with all his might, but that’s what he wanted. Practice would strengthen his arms quickly.

“That bow will put an arrow from here to the waterfront and beyond. Hunting for large game, are you?”

Gray smiled and agreed with a nod of his head. Yes, he was hunting for large game, dragons to be exact. Twenty arrows held tightly together in a quiver were next.

“Sure you don’t want to go out back and try out a target?” The shopkeeper asked.

Gray said, “Thanks, but I know how to use this.”

They left the shop with Gray carrying the quiver in one hand and the bow in his other. The quiver had a shoulder strap, but Gray didn’t feel comfortable wearing it in the city. Bear directed them down to the docks and Front Street. Gray noticed the eyes taking note of him. They paused at a railing and watched the ships for a while then moved on to the bookstore.

Kelby worked the counter. Her eyes lit up when she saw Gray, but she addressed Bear. “The best of mornings to you, sir.”

“Would your father be in the back?”

“Where else?” she giggled as if he’d made a joke, but her attention was still on Gray.

Bear led the way to the back room where they found Shailer pouring over more maps and charts. He looked up while holding a rolled map flat on a table. His appearance was disheveled enough to have missed sleep the night before. “I have little new information, but it may be of use. It’s more about what is not on the charts than is. I have also managed to obtain two old shipping manifests for the Lady Marion by telling a cargo master you are looking for profit.”

Bear shrugged. “I’m always looking to doing that. I just bought and sold some imported cargo a few days ago. It should raise no eyebrows.”

“I only mention it in case you are asked. The manifests themselves are interesting in what is not there.” Shailer waited for one of them to tell him to continue, but when neither did quickly enough, he said, “What is not there, is enough cargo for a ship to earn a profit.”

Bear waited, thinking about Shailer’s statement. “The Lady Marion makes four ports as I recall. If Fleming is not earning them profits, it would be easy enough to shift this leg to Castle Warrington, or some other port.”

Shailer handed Bear a sheaf of documents. “Not just Fleming. They cannot make a profit on a single leg of their trade route.”

Gray blurted out, “Then how does the ship stay in business?”

“How indeed?” Shailer teased.

Bear said, “Somebody pays the expenses. Ships, crews, rigging, food, and materials for repair and other supplies are expensive. How short do they fall?”

Shailer passed Bear a tally sheet he’d been scribbling on when they entered. “Every voyage costs the owners a fistful of gold.”

Bear whistled at the sum. “Who are the owners?”

“They were hard to find, but after a long night of research, I believe I tracked them down. It’s listed as a company called, Embers Shipping.”

Gray caught the significance of the name instantly and tried to hide his excitement as he asked, “As in King Embers?”

Shailer shrugged. “Who knows? But I personally know of no other, but the crown who could sustain the losses that this ship accrues year after year.”