Dragon Clan #5: Tanner's Story

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tanner stood and kicked off his boots. He didn’t bother rolling up his pant legs. He waded to Devlin and took an arm. Looking at the designs. The ink was dark blue; the overall image was drawn crudely. The left arm depicted a dragon from the neck to head, thin as a snake. The other arm showed three heads, one above the other, each with an open mouth as if eating the next.

“What’s this?”

Devlin yanked his arm back. He looked ready to swing a fist.

Tanner took a step back, so he was out of reach. “Hey, I’m sorry. What is that on your arms?”

Devlin calmed. His fingers uncurled from the fist.

“We’ll talk later,” Tanner said. “Get yourself clean while there’s still time for the sun to dry you.”

Carrion walked into the water to his knees and said, “Come on over here, son. I might as well get that hair cut so you don’t have to wash it again.”

With a skittish glance at Tanner, Devlin went to Carrion, who motioned for him to sit down in the water. Carrion took hold of a fistful of hair and used his knife to slice it off. Then he continued, grabbing a handful and stretching it out before cutting it to the same length.

When he finished, it looked like someone had chopped it off with a knife. It hung wet, ragged, and choppy. Carrion said as if telling the truth, “There. Much better.”

The hair had reached past the boy’s shoulders. Now it was semi-uniform length about as long as a finger. Carrion said, “Wash it out and slick it back. You’ll look like a new man.”

A new man. He looked like a boy who had his hair caught in some farm equipment. Tanner suppressed a snicker as he decided that if he needed his hair cut, it would be done at home. However, Devlin stumbled from the water with his hair slicked back, his skin clean, and his clothing cleaner. Tanner finally admitted to himself the boy was hardly recognizable, which was the intent.

Carrion dug out the food they had stolen from the store in Shrewsbury and spread it on his blanket. Tanner did the same. Then, Carrion gathered wood and started a fire, grumbling the whole time that he was the only one who did any chores.

As they settled down, Devlin scooted closer to the fire. His pants and shirt steamed on the sticks they hung on, but he didn’t have any others. Tanner had a spare shirt. He handed it to the grateful boy. It hung on him like a nightshirt, which was good because it helped fight off the night chill.

“Tell us about Racine,” Carrion said. “Better yet, tell us about you.”

Devlin hesitated. Then he sighed and said, “I lived there.”

“Did you live in a house?” Carrion persisted.

“No.” Then Devlin glanced at Tanner and realized he needed to explain. “I found places to hide.”

“In the winter?” Carrion asked.

“The rain made me cold.”

Tanner said, “Friends or family?”

The boy shook his head and cast his eyes to the ground. He flinched when Carrion reached for more firewood.

The tattoos?” Tanner asked.

“I’ve always had them.”

Carrion gave an exasperated look to Tanner before saying, “There’s a lot of hills around here. I remember Racine has hills too. Are there places where we could be up high, and you point out the different parts of the city?”

Devlin smiled for the first time. “Yes.”

“Okay, then that’s what we’ll do,” Carrion said. “In the morning, we’ll find a place to sit and talk. Don’t let your clothes get too dry or they’ll catch fire.”

Tanner said, “Use that shirt over your other for tonight.”

The boy looked even younger, maybe sixteen was a stretch. His frail shoulders and spotty beard almost gave the appearance of an old man. Give him a cane and white hair and he’d fool anyone. Tanner considered those ideas, as well as understanding that most of his appearance was from poor nutrition. He probably only ate a few times a week, and then only what he could steal or forge from what others threw away.

Living in the city wouldn’t give him much time to learn to hunt. Most of the time he was the hunted, as people tried to keep Devlin away from what they owned.

Tanner went to sleep. Later, he woke as Devlin tried stealing his backpack. As usual, Tanner had slipped a strap around his arm. In the moonlight, he slowly shook his head. Devlin pretended to go to sleep again. So did Tanner.

Devlin carefully reached for Carrion’s pack. Tanner said softly, “How are you going to survive with only one hand?”

Puzzled, Devlin halted.

Carrion said, his eyes still closed, “He’s right. I’ll cut off any hand that steals from me.”

Later, Tanner woke when Devlin tried to sneak away. He said, “We won’t hold you here, but after the sun comes up and the two of us are eating our fill, you remember that you left us, and you are hungry. You will not be welcome back with us.”

When Tanner woke with the sun, Devlin was sitting off to one side where the morning sun warmed him. His eyes watched, but he said nothing. Carrion climbed to his feet and said, “We might as well get on with it. We can eat while we walk.”

Tanner looked at Devlin and said, “How long will it take to get to the edge of town?”

Devlin shrugged and remained silent.

“Oh, come on,” Tanner snapped. “It’ll take as long to walk there as it took you to get here. How long was that?”

His eyes drifted off to one side, and his lips silently moved, then he said, “Ten days. Maybe more.”

Carrion barked a laugh and drew the attention of both of them. He said, “Probably telling the truth. You assumed he walked right here, but he probably snuck around farms, stole what he could, and managed to remain out of sight until we found him. Ten days sounds reasonable.”

Tanner offered the boy a handful of food as he dug into a bag for more. He said, “There’s plenty. Just let me know.”

Devlin shoved it all into his mouth, stuffing it so full he couldn’t chew. They walked together, with Carrion leading the way. When Devlin choked and spit most of it out, Tanner just held out the bag for him to take more. He took a smaller handful, but placed it all in his mouth as if making sure nobody took it from him.

They set a fast pace, traveling up small hills and down the same. When they crossed creeks, one or two of them sometimes paused long enough to drink. They passed more farms, and then the farms were joined next to each other. Farmers waved, children played, dogs barked, and smiling people passed them on the road. Most wished them a good morning.

The farms were prosperous, the people friendly, and Tanner contrasted what he saw with Shrewsbury. There was a sickness in Shrewsbury. Illness brought on by the others. Yet, he walked beside one of the others, unless he missed his guess. It made it hard for Tanner to like or trust him.

Hopefully, they could get the boy talking. In his story might be clues for how they should proceed or weaknesses they could exploit. But the process couldn’t be rushed.

They went up a hill longer than any before. At the top was a clearing where two small groups of people spread blankets for a picnic. The view was unobstructed. The hillside fell away until it reached a small city. Smoke rose from dozens of chimneys. The buildings were spread out more than in Shrewsbury, the only other large town, or city Tanner had ever seen.

Between many of the buildings were gardens, flower, and vegetable. Trees lined the streets. A square occupied the center, with colorful tents and stalls. Hundreds of people either sold their produce or products. At least that many strolled the offerings and purchased what they needed. Musicians played.

Beyond the buildings was a finger of a bay fed by a river. A stone wall was at the mouth, protecting the boats inside. A fleet of fishing boats, was grouped on one set of docks while much larger ones were for loading and unloading ships. Warehouses lined the shore near the piers. Three ships were tied at the piers, and two more were anchored in deeper water.

Tanner expected to rest with the people sharing the grass and watch the city, but Carrion motioned for them to move on. Tanner noticed the reaction Devlin had with them. If not fear, it was apprehension. He had been almost relaxed until he spotted them.

They moved down the road, but when they were still well above the highest rooftops, Carrion pointed to a place beside the road that couldn’t be called a clearing. They pushed aside a few branches and stepped on a few weeds to make a place to rest.

Carrion said, “Where did you live? I mean what part of town?”

“Over there, mostly.” He pointed to a section of rooftops.

“Why there? I’d think down by the market would be better. Easier to steal food.” Carrion said.

After a hesitation, Devlin said, “No. There is more food in the market, but also, more people watching it, and watching for people like me.”

Tanner said, “Are there many like you?”

“Yes. There’s many homeless.”

That was not the answer to the question Tanner intended. He wanted to know about those with tattoos on their arms but didn’t want to bring unnecessary attention to his interest. He said, “It sounds like the residents don’t like the poor.”

“Townies have their own rules.”

“That’s what you call them?” Carrion asked.

“Yes. Because they belong to the town, I guess.”

Carrion’s eyes drifted away from Devlin and looked out over the rooftops as if distracted, but Tanner saw the interest. He waited for the next question, knowing what Carrion would ask before the words came.

“What do they call you?”

“Beggars. Thieves. Other stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“Anterrians. Foreigners. Sometimes Crabs or filth.”

Tanner fought to keep his reactions to himself. But now the others had a name, and maybe a place where they came from. Anterrians. They would come from Anterria. He glanced at Carrion, who returned a very slight nod of his chin.

Carrion then said, “Foreigners. Like you come from another land?”

“If we have the dragons on our arms we’re Crabs.” Devlin made the statement as calm as if repeating what everyone knew.

“Couldn’t you find work? Maybe on a fishing boat?” Tanner asked.

Devlin held out his arms, displaying the dragons. “With these? Nobody will hire me. They’ll sic dogs on me, or throw rocks at me, but who would dare hire me?”

“You said, ‘dare.' Why that word?” Carrion asked.

Devlin paused again as if he was used to thinking about his answers before speaking. “There are stories about people like me hurting townies. Nobody wants to be around us.”

“There’s others in town with tattoos on your arms?” Tanner asked.

“A few,” his eyes shifted as if he wanted to escape the conversation.

Carrion stepped in and said, “We’re going down there, and I have enough coin for all of us. First thing, we’ll buy you some better clothing. Pants long enough to reach your feet and a shirt with sleeves long enough to cover those tattoos. Where can we buy them?”

“There're people that sell clothes in the market square, but they won’t let me go there.”

“Why not?” Carrion asked.

“They caught me stealing too many times.”

Tanner had heard about enough. He snapped, “Stealing what? Loaves of bread?”

The boy hung his head as if that was a major crime. Carrion said, “You’ll be with us. I don’t think anyone is going to object to you being there. Not if they want to survive to the end of today.”

Carrion was angry, showing his red cheeks, but more than that, his anger had alerted the red dragon. It flew close enough for Tanner to sense it, and at almost the same time Carrion glanced up. The dragon was still out of sight, but drawn by the possibility of danger to its bonded partner.

Carrion closed his eyes to check on the dragon while Tanner said to Devlin, “I think it’s about time we went down there and visit that market. You’ll trust us to manage any trouble, won’t you?”

A hesitant nod was the answer. Carrion’s eyes blinked and returned to normal. He said, “A visit by a red dragon might straighten out some of those people.”

“Or scare them and make them hate anyone associated with dragons.”

Devlin crossed his arms and held his hands over the tattoos, believing they were talking about him. Before long they were strolling down the road, ignoring any negative looks cast in Devlin’s direction.

“Know of a decent pub or inn?” Carrion asked, then shrugged. “Probably not, but I intend to find one.”

“You sound upset,” Tanner said, feeling much the same and wondering if for the same reasons. He wanted to fight for Devlin.

They continued walking, acknowledging the few greetings from the people they passed. Carrion finally said, “They seem so friendly, but then they treat people like Devlin completely without shame or consideration.”

“Maybe they have a reason,” Devlin said, his voice so low that hearing his was like listening to the buzz of a certain bumblebee in a field of clover.

Neither responded. They entered the edge of town and passed modest homes and small businesses. Carrion pointed at an intersection, and they turned. People thronged the street. Horses, mules, dogs, children, and adults moved along the street, so many they bumped and touched each other.

Devlin pushed Carrion roughly with both hands, sending him stumbling to the side of a building. Two or three people paused to observe. Carrion crouched with his knife in hand, ready to cut Devlin, who backed several steps.

“What happened?” Tanner asked.

Carrion moved a few steps forward. Devlin held up his empty hands in front of him.

Tanner stepped between them. He looked at Devlin, “Why?”

Devlin pointed to Carrion’s waist. His purse hung outside, by a single leather thong. There had been four, and the purse had been inside his waistband. “A thief.”

Lifting the purse and glancing at the cut strips of leather, Carrion understood. “You had to push me before he cut the last one. If you hadn’t acted so fast, he would have my purse.”

The few people who had paused to watch moved on. Carrion replaced his knife and reached an empty hand to Devlin, who eventually grasped it in a handshake. Devlin said, “If you have a string long enough, tie it around your neck . . . And another to your trousers. They’ll cut the one around your neck and catch it as it falls free. You need at least two.”

“You know this because you were a thief?” Tanner asked.

Devlin gave him the same look children give to mothers who ask silly questions.

“We have a lot to do. Devlin, why don’t you take the lead?”

The smile was instant and unexpected. His words were, too. “You lead. I’ll be more help to you at your back.”