Dragon Clan #6: Anna's Story

CHAPTER TWO

Anna hugged all who had come to wish her well, which was everyone in the Drylands Family, men, women, and children. Despite her best efforts to hurry events along, it had taken three days to meet with each council member and the interested people who had suggestions or advice. She had spent a full morning with Gray, and almost a full day with Tessa at the watchtower. Both had shared their thoughts and ideas in depth.

In the end, she admitted to herself that it had been well worth the wait. She had used the time to fill her backpack with essential items, empty it, and refill it again with different essentials. She had sewn coins into so many seams that the straps of her pack felt heavier, not just the contents of the pack, but the straps themselves held coins.

Grandma Emma had monopolized her evenings, filling them with guidelines, goals, and warnings. While she had allowed Anna to take on the responsibility of the trip, it was clear that her grandmother wished Anna would let another go in her place.

Finally, it was time to leave. The entire Drylands Family watch her as she walked beside Tessa in the direction of the mouth of the box canyon that helped conceal the village, Tessa said, “I’ll walk with you a little farther if you don’t mind.”

“That would be nice,” Anna said, grateful for the company and yet fearful of cutting the last tie to her family and friends for another venture into the unknown. The feelings had become uncomfortable with all the well-wishers delaying her as they offered advice and wisdom, but the morning sun was well above the horizon, and she had a very long walk ahead of her.

After navigating the wall of cacti and juniper, they reached the flat of the desert and walked within the high walls of the canyon looming over them to either side. Anna was conscious of the watcher on duty on the mesa above even if she couldn’t see who it was. She knew a friend or relative was there watching out for the safety of all, as she had done a hundred times.

Tessa said, “I wanted to stress a few things before you go. Your Grandmother and I discussed them, and we are in complete agreement.”

“I thought we’d already decided everything.”

“Not yet. Listen to me, Anna. This may seem like an adventure to you, and someday I hope you tell your grandchildren about it, but today it is a dangerous mission. So listen to me with all the attention you would as if your life is at stake . . .”

“Okay, I will.”

“Your grandmother and I are changing your destination. Instead of going to the Raging Mountains and searching for the Dragon Clan that lives there, we want you do go directly to Castle Warrington. We have information that Raymer will be there helping Quint and his father, the Earl. If he is, you will ask him to accompany you to Breslau.”

“Raymer? The Raymer?”

“Yes, the one who was held in the dungeon and defeated King Ember’s sneak attack against the Northwoods over a year ago. The advantages of traveling to Breslau are simple. He’s experienced in living with people other than Dragon Clan, and he has bonded with a red dragon. He is smart, strong, and clever. Raymer will be your first choice. If you cannot locate him at Castle Warrington, you will travel to the Raging Mountains and seek out his family, which may take time. They are hidden as well as our family is, but you will find the way.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all this earlier?”

Tessa walked a few more steps before answering as if considering if she should tell the truth or a lie.We suspected you would balk at going on this venture with a bonded Dragon Clan member. You would fight against it. He will naturally take the lead, and you will do as he says.”

The change irritated Anna. It was another swipe at her young age, but she knew fifteen was not all that young. Her mother had died in childbirth while only a year older. She took a single step away from Tessa and placed her arms crossed over her chest. “Traveling all the way to Castle Warrington and then on to the Raging Mountains and back again will add twenty days to my journey.”

“However, if Raymer can be located at the castle, your trip will be shorter and more productive, as well as safer.”

“Only if he agrees to go with me.”

Tessa chuckled. “We believe he will leap at the chance. If not, we default to the original plan, and we only lose travel time.”

We! Anna didn’t know where the ‘we’ came from, but she didn’t like the last minute change. She suspected it was anything but a last minute change, but she saw the wisdom and advantages without having them spelled out. However, this was her venture and nobody, not even Raymer was going to take it away from her. She said, using her sour tone while pursing her lips and squinting, “Anything else?”

“I want a hug before I let you continue.”

Anna held onto Tessa longer than she intended, then abruptly spun and marched away. She was finally alone, and nobody could see the tears. However, the tears dried as she trudged ahead in the soft sand and her steps became longer with each stride.

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. While on the mission with Gray, he had been in charge and he had done a credible job, but this was her time. She intended to perform better than anyone else. Her skills in fighting with the staff were unparalleled, even if she didn’t carry one. Any branch, broomstick, or shovel handle might replace the staff.

But lately the staff had become too closely identified with the Dragon Clan to risk carrying one, and besides, not many twelve-year-old girls carried them. Of course, she was fifteen now, and she had wrapped a wide strip of cloth around her chest to hide her breasts. She would talk in a higher pitch. Her only problem lay in the lack of a story she would tell to those encountered while traveling.

The instructions Tessa had provided would help. They had devised a story to explain why she was traveling alone. She would tell anyone that she was traveling with her brother and his best friend, a warrior in the King’s army. They had split up and gone ahead to hunt. She expected them to return before dark because she was scared to sleep in the wilds alone. After all, Anna was only a twelve-year-old girl and almost helpless.

The hefty knife at her waist was mostly for show. It was almost too large for her small hands. Strapped inside of her thigh was another knife, smaller and far more deadly. The knife was thin, sharp, pointed, and the handle was almost nonexistent, so there was no telltale bulge in her clothing. The blade was small but could slide between ribs without hesitation.

Who would search the thigh of a twelve-year-old girl for a hidden weapon? Nobody, she hoped. But her most powerful weapon was her snarky mouth, followed by her eye-rolls, smirks, and hands-on-hips of protest. She would use them before the dagger and in most cases her attitude managed to scare men. It had served her well on her trip with Gray and she was now more experienced, had trained harder, and she was a little older.

As she walked, the floor of the desert grew hotter, the sand burning her feet right through her boots, yet she couldn’t stop or slow. It took two full days to journey north to where the forests grew. Between her and the forest, there was no water, and travel at night was dangerous. The landscape was black, jagged lava, broken by brown patches where sand blew to fill in depressions, but some lava outcrops were too big and lay exposed. Within sight of her, there were a hundred places ready to trap or break a leg, or trip her forward to strike her head on bare lava.

At night, it would be a hundred times worse to walk. The dips, cracks, exposed rock, and jagged protrusions lurked in every shadow. She had to continue moving today, moving fast while her body still had water. Despite the four water bottles slung around her neck, by tomorrow afternoon they would be empty, and she would be thirsty. The warm water of a shallow stream would appear first, but it was dangerous to stop there because so many thieves and outlaws inhabited the edge of the drylands. They watched the stream for victims and for their drinking water.

Beyond that stream would be a small ridge of low mountains. Cold, clear streams flowed through the forests on the slopes. That would be her goal for the end of the second day. If possible, she would bypass the warm water and those who watched for unwary travelers.

Tessa and Grandma Emma had instructed her well. They had both traveled this way and knew the best routes and what to avoid. They had not held back on providing her with advice or details on the beginning of the trek. While begrudging it to a degree, she also knew it was important. The hours talking to them would help. It also accomplished the task of easing their minds.

Gray, in his typical big-brother role, had cautioned her to curb her sharp tongue, among other things. She intended to ignore that. Her conceited, spoiled, attitude of a twelve-year-old girl put adult men off. Women looked past it. Some even smiled as they remembered themselves at that age. But men reacted in ways that often gave her the upper hand.

A hot wind blew, raising sand and causing it to fly until her clothing was caked with a layer. Her feet hurt from the heated ground. They sank in at each step and seemed to pull back when she tried to lift her feet another step. Her calves started to hurt almost as much as her thighs. She paused at the top of a rise and slowly made a complete turn. Many people don’t look behind themselves when traveling. They only looked ahead. Grandma Emma had told her that, and a thousand other items of survival.

The sun beat down, causing ripples of airwaves just above the sand. The next shade she found, no matter how small, she intended to crawl under it and rest. The hottest part of the day was always late afternoon. She would rest until the shadows grew longer. Then, after that time, the air in the desert gave up its heat so fast that there might be frost by morning. She would continue into the late afternoon and even into the night if the moon and stars gave off enough light. The moon would be near full for a few more nights, and the sky was clear, so she was hopeful.

During her inspection, a slight movement on the slope of another rise in the distance drew her attention; just enough movement to attract her wary eyes. She fell to her knees but didn’t otherwise change positions. Just as she had seen a change, whoever, or whatever was out there in the desert probably watched for the same. She slowly lowered herself to the ground, her eyes pinned to the other slope.

There were few large animals in the drylands. A few wolves prowled near the edges, and now and then a large cat. But there were no bears, or other animals dangerous to humans. The largest and most dangerous were people. Outcasts or criminals, escaped convict or deserters, from the King’s army fled there to avoid the law. And of course, the King’s Triads, those groups of three highly trained scouts searching for the homes of the Dragon Clan.

She saw a flit of movement again. While she couldn’t make out details, she instantly determined it was a man, but obviously, it was not one trained for skulking in deserts. Being spotted so easily told of his ignorance, which did not mean he was not treacherous. Even the most inexperienced opponent might win in a chance encounter.

Might. She stressed that word in her mind as she moved slowly down the backside of the mound. She watched from behind a ledge of crumbling sandstone. Whoever was out there could have gone in any direction, but instead, the figure moved directly at her.

It was not a coincidence, then. Anna had few choices. She could run. The other person could follow. She could hide. The other might find her, and she’d be worse off. She could set a trap. A wary person might sense it and attack her instead of falling into the trap. In any of those situations, she could lose the encounter. In addition to any of them, the stranger following her might catch up while she slept tonight if she did nothing.

But she still had another option, one more suited to her training and skills. The rolling lay of the land, the broken cracks, and crevasses, and the sparse vegetation provided more than enough cover if one knew how to make use of it. She slipped off to one side, and when out of sight she stood and ran at an angle to the stranger, all the while keeping low where he couldn’t see her. When she determined she had gone far enough, she paused. Instead of turning away, she turned towards where she’d last seen the movement.

She used the natural cover and a small split of a canyon until she was sure she had circled around behind the follower. As Grandma Emma said, most people do not look behind. She found another small rise that provided a good view and waited.

It didn’t take long. She was closer to him than expected, but from the tan dust of the desert floor, a male figure stood and stumbled ahead, before pausing and shielding his eyes with the palm of his hand. He searched for her. There was no mistaking the action. He was moving carefully and searching.

There was only one reason to follow behind. He wanted something from her. She didn’t know what he wanted, but it made no difference. He was following her with malicious intent. She liked that word, malicious. She reached for her short bow. Whatever happened was his fault.

He was not too far off, but she wanted to be ready in case he turned and spotted her. Then was not the time to fumble for a bow that might get tangled in her backpack. The quiver at her hip provided an arrow. One quick and familiar move brought it from the quiver to the bow. She strung the bow and fitted an arrow before creeping forward.

The sand crunched under her feet, and she was sure he’d hear her, but the idea was silly. He was too far away to hear her footsteps unless she stumbled. Besides the constant wind made enough sound to shield any she made. But the idea jarred her. She was stalking another person without a single glance behind to see who stalked her. Only a short time ago she’d criticized the man out there for the same mistake.

She paused as if examining a footprint in the sand. As she bent, she peered back and found nobody there. Someone back there may have ducked when she stopped walking. She spun and looked behind. Nobody there. She would have to do better in the future, but her nerves were on edge. It was not the last time she turned to examine her back trail.

She moved quicker now, concentrating on being quiet but adding some speed to her stealth. Closing the distance, she moved to within twenty steps before he heard her. He turned, surprise clear on his dirt-streaked face. If his expression was any gauge, his surprise was quickly followed by a flash of fear as he found the bow in her hands.

His eyes darted around, looking for a way out. But he stood in the open with no adequate cover close enough to reach before she could release her arrow. His options were to run in any unprotected direction. Or, he could charge right at her. The latter would earn him an arrow, or two.

Anna saw the indecision cross his mind, the slump of his shoulders, the giving up. She motioned with the tip of the arrow fitted to the bowstring for him to sit. He shook his head vigorously and pointed to one side, then moved a few steps before sitting, but not so far that it might concern her. She eased closer, careful to stay out of range if he should decide to rush her.

The ground near where he sat had a red ant pile, the little beasts swarming and moving closer to him. That was why he’d refused to sit at first. She motioned again, “Move further away before they get you.”

She examined the man as he scooted away from the ants. He was tall and thin enough to be ill. His cheeks were sunken, his hands mostly long, skinny fingers. Desert dirt coated him from head to foot. No, it was more than dirt, it was mud, she realized. Intentionally applied to his face, neck, ears, and hands. His clothing was ragged, also covered in brown mud that appeared more clay than sand.

“Who are you trying to hide from?” she asked, turning her nose up at the mud.

“People.”

“So you cover yourself in mud to hide?”

“Bugs.” The words came slowly, after a slight hesitation.

Two individual sentences of one word each. Conversation with him would be scant if he kept that up. She realized he was a little older than her. He was probably less than twenty, but with the mud caked on him, the filthy hair, and untrimmed beard, it was hard to tell.

“Bugs?”

“Keeps bugs away.”

The mud helped keep night bugs like mosquitoes and black flies away. She understood and approved. “Who are you?”

He shrugged.

“A name. What do people call you?”

“Thief.”

“No, not what you do. What’s your name?”

“Thief.”

Anna relaxed on the pull of the bow, but kept the arrow seated and ready to release in an instant. “People call you ‘Thief’ because you steal from them, I understand that. But you must have a name.”

He shook his head.

“What do you do out here?”

He looked away as if he didn’t understand the question. He inhaled and let the breath out slowly, looking off into the distance.

Anna took three steps back and sat on a small boulder. She kept a close watch on him. “Why were you following me?”

“Food.”

“What else?”

He gave her a questioning glance before turning away again. He either didn’t want to answer or had none.

“Were you going to hurt me or steal my things?”

“Food.”

He answered too slowly, after a short pause each time she asked him a question as if considering each answer and being careful only to answer what she asked. His responses were those of a young child who got caught dipping a finger into the honey jar without permission. Now that she paid attention, she realized he didn’t scare her. Despite him being so much taller that her head wouldn’t reach higher than his chest, there was a calmness about him. A certain serenity.

“Are you hungry?” She asked. “That’s why you wanted food?”

“Yes.”

“So you were going to steal my food but not hurt me?”

“No.”

The single word of the answer could mean several things. Earlier, he’d said he followed her because of food. From his answer, he might not steal her food, and might not hurt her, or neither—or both. Was that all he wanted? “What else were you going to do?”

“Watch.”

Watch? She considered the single word again and thought she might be beginning to understand. “You were going to watch me and see where and how I found my food?”

He nodded.

That was smart. By watching her, he might learn a new skill to help him survive. A fly landed on his arm. It looked like a horsefly, one that would take a bite of his flesh and leave blood dripping from a wound. The boy didn’t slap at it to kill it. He brushed it off with the side of his hand. She liked that. Killing is necessary at times, but the needless killing of anything, even a horsefly caused her to cringe.

On impulse, she slipped her backpack off and removed a small leather sack with a drawstring. It contained a mixture of dried grapes, nuts, grains, and smoked venison, her favorite food for traveling. It was light to carry, and in a small bag, it would last for days. She tossed it to him.

He opened it and peered inside, finally pouring some into his filthy palm before looking closer. Then he carefully poured it all back into the bag.

“Don’t you want any?”

He nodded. She hadn’t told him to eat it; she’d just thrown the bag in his direction. He had caught it. The interesting thing was that he didn’t eat any despite being hungry. It didn’t belong to him, and she hadn’t expressly told him it was acceptable to eat it. Anna felt she was beginning to understand him a little more.

“Take some. It’s yours,” she ordered, hoping he poured out the exact same nuts and kernels that had rested in his filthy palm before. She was not a prude about eating, but there were limits. She glanced at the mud-caked hands again and decided she might give it all to him.

He carefully poured a tiny amount into his hand and lifted his eyes, silently asking if he’d taken too much. Sighing, she motioned for him to take more. After waiting for him to eat, she accepted the almost full sack back.

She said, “Now I have to make a camp and get some sleep. I want you to go back to yours.”

He stood slack and limp as wet clothing hanging on a line to dry.

“Thief, it is time for you to leave.”

He turned and walked slowly away, looking confused but not angry. Still, she watched him until he disappeared over a small hill to the west. She walked in the opposite direction determined to put as much distance between her and ‘Thief’ as possible before making a campsite. While he appeared harmless, she didn’t want to worry about him staying close or returning.

The ground was more solid with less blowing sand slowing her. She walked and half-ran, always keeping an eye behind. The sun felt warm on her back finally settled below the horizon, and Anna’s spirits lifted. She was on her way.