Dragon Clan #6: Anna's Story

CHAPTER THREE

As the sun went down behind her, Anna saw the first hints of green appear in the drab landscape. The desert floor now held a few small plants struggling to survive on the limited water. Ahead spread a green ridge where the land rose, and trees grew. Her instinct was to reach it before dark, but training said the distance was too great. In the drylands things often appear closer than reality.

The last water bottle still held enough to splash when she shook it. She came to an area littered with the spines of cacti, most from a sprawling pear cactus that covered an entire hillside. Using the last of the light to step carefully until she was ten paces into the cactus patch, Anna used her blanket as a broom to sweep a space clear of spines to sleep. While the location was not protected from the wind, the spines littering the ground all around would deter animals from getting close to her, and that included most men.

There would be no warm campfire tonight for Thief, or others nearby to locate her. She laid on her back and watched the stars until falling asleep. Nearby coyotes woke her a few times, but their howling was almost welcome. As was her practice in the wild, she woke several times and listened to the sounds of the night, sniffed familiar and unfamiliar scents, and peered into the darkness before drifting off again. In all, the night was refreshing.

She awoke with the first light and immediately headed for the green ridge, the last of her traveling food in hand. When it was gone, hunger still growled in her stomach. Head down and one foot in front of the other brought her to a path covered in footprints, old and fresh alike. It was not a road, but a track that many desert dwellers used. It was close enough to the ridge to indicate the people often moved from the wooded areas ahead to the barren lands behind, and back again. What sort of people would they be?

Supplying an answer to her own question, Farmers, tradesmen, soldiers, and craftsmen could all be eliminated. People belonging to many of the remaining groups were not ones she cared to encounter. Her eyes scanned the area searching for another route. To her left was a shallow, rugged valley. Walking there would be hard and progress slow. On her right were hills rising and falling, some almost as high as small mountains. It would take twice as long to move up and over them.

Anna squared her shoulders and shifted the belt holding her knife, so it moved to her front, into easier reach. To run was always an option, but running into danger was stupid and had happened to more than one person after a clever trap had been strung. Instead, she walked quickly, keeping her eyes and ears alert. She chose to move on the lower ground where possible, so she didn’t skyline herself. She constantly watched both sides of the track for escape routes and memorized them to keep in mind at all times.

Finally, climbing a long hill brought leafy trees at the top of the ridge. Upon reaching them, the track widened to become a small road, and Anna felt safer for a time. But, as a child of the desert, she quickly realized her mind played tricks. Back in the desert, there was little for a foe to hide behind, or in front of. It was possible to spot an enemy a thousand paces away and make preparations. Maybe two or three paces if she kept a good watch. At that distance running was a better option than fighting.

However, walking along a narrow road with trees and thick underbrush growing right up to the sides, made her uneasy. Ahead looked like walking down a tunnel. An attacker could be squatted behind the next bush and leap out before she could react. Anna pulled to a wary stop. The road was ten times more dangerous than the open drylands. Worse, every footprint that she had observed down there in the drylands had come from this road where she now stood.

While she had seen nothing overt to alert her, she felt eyes watching. An opening in the undergrowth to her left told where deer and small animals crossed the road, probably heading for a stream to drink. She sidestepped to the edge of the road and ducked into the dense growth.

After a few steps into the underbrush, it cleared somewhat. The underbrush always grew heavier right beside a road where it received plenty of sunshine. The deer path carried her for some time until it turned the wrong direction. She left the path and settled on the ground behind the trunk of an oak large enough to hide behind. She waited and watched. Her hunger would also wait.

The bow slipped noiselessly out of her pack, and she strung it. With an arrow ready to fly there came more sitting, listening, and watching. When Anna was sure nobody followed her, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes looking at her. In family stories, ignoring instincts like not listening to feelings had gotten more people killed than she knew how to count.

Anna wanted to hurry on but waited and wished a dragon had come with her. She missed sensing the dragons on the tattoo on her back. At home in the hills near the drylands, several reds usually roosted, sometimes joined by a black or tan. Almost every day of her life she had felt the slight tingling and tickles that told her one, or more, was nearby. On the trip with Gray, there had been a continuous presence. However, since leaving her family on this trip there had not been a single touch by a dragon. The lack of the dragon touch made her feel more alone than ever.

Finally, she stood and stalked back the way she had come, ready to fight or flee. If anyone tried sneaking up on her, she’d take the fight to them, or run. But again there was nobody there. She turned and adjusted her pack and sleeping roll, still feeling the tinge of fear. It could be she’d talked herself into being afraid. She moved through the forest using the sun in her face to guide her.

After climbing a series of low hills, she reached the crest of one, and between the trees, she found a wide, almost treeless valley covered in the greenest grass pastures she’d ever seen. A flock of sheep grazed under the watchful eyes of a sheepherder. His black and white dog came alert and peered in her direction, testing the breeze with several sniffs. Smoke rose from a chimney far enough to be whisked away by the same morning breeze. She stayed still.

She watched the dog herding the sheep before it spotted her. It wouldn’t be long before it sounded its warning. Circling around the valley would probably take a full day, and there was no guarantee there wasn’t another valley beyond. It would be friendlier to walk out into the open and introduce herself before the dog told the world she was sneaking around and watching.

The dog came on point for a brief second as she left the protection of the forest. It barked madly and looked at the herder, who held out a hand to calm it, and at the same time praised the dog. He ordered it to calm several times, and it did, but Anna had no doubt the dog also knew commands to attack.

As she walked in his direction, the flock shifted until it was all behind the sheepherder, as if the sheep knew his job was to protect them. The eyes of a hundred cautious sheep watched her every step.

When she was close enough, she paused, raised an empty hand and called, “Hello.”

The sheep herder motioned for her to come closer. When she was almost to him the dog couldn’t be contained anymore, and it raced to her, sniffing and running circles. Anna tried to pet it, but it moved too fast, darting one way and then the next until it finally lunged to land almost at her feet and rolled over. She dutifully scratched the dog’s belly.

The herder was older, probably thirty. His face was long, as was his nose. His teeth were too big for his mouth. She said, “My name is Anna.”

“Theo.”

“I like your dog.”

“Me too. If you’re good people, he lets you scratch his stomach. Otherwise, he bites. I let him decide who comes near me.”

She laughed, still scratching the dog’s stomach. “Can I buy some food from you?”

Theo hesitated and flicked a fly away from his large nose. “Travelers usually carry what they need.”

“I gave my food to a hungry man I met in the desert. He needed it more than me,” she shrugged.

“Gave? Or he took it?”

“Gave.”

“So my dog was right about you. I have food to spare, but I do not sell it to friends.”

“We’re friends?” she said, using the high pitched voice that took two years off of her age. She might as well practice her deception while she had the opportunity.

He carried a staff, as most herders did, and most Dragon Clan members. She had no indication he was part of her family, but neither did she doubt he could handle the staff as a weapon. He probably carried it every day of his life, clearing brush from where he intended to walk, striking snakes before they could bite, while keeping the sheep moving. It was a tool, an extension of his hand and arm. He used it to point to the small house in the distance.

They walked together while the dog remained on watch with the sheep. Inside the house was warm and comfortable. A single cup sat unwashed on the table. Everywhere was tidy, but undecorated. In short, the house was functional. No woman lived here.

A set of storage shelves was fastened to one wall of the kitchen. On them sat jars of several sizes and shapes, all containing food. The small fireplace still had a few black logs, mostly burned, but still throwing heat into the room against the morning chill.

As he poured water into another cup and added a sprinkle of tea, Theo said, “What sort of food would suit you, young lady, and how much?”

“Enough for two days.”

“Going to King Ember’s Summer Palace are you?” He reached for a jar and pulled the cap off, exposing the dried apple slices inside.

She nodded that she liked them. The palace was not her ultimate destination, but she said, “How did you guess?”

“That’s about all in that direction when you walk for two days. Your family there? Or a husband?” His teasing smile at the last comment provided her the opportunity to enforce the age she was pretending to be.

“I’m only twelve. My mother’s mother is there. She fell and needs someone to help her with the chores until she is well.”

“Your mother should have sent someone with you to protect you on the trip. A little girl is not safe on her own.”

“The men are off hunting. It’s only a three-day walk, and most of that’s along the road, so it’s safe enough. Besides, I can run fast.” She added the last because it seemed like something the girl she pretended to be would say, then felt awkward because it was a stupid comment. Her story would have to improve for the next encounter.

He offered her dried beans and peas, but she shook her head. Next, he had jerky in a large jar, and she eagerly nodded. If dried and smoked right, it was one of her favorite foods. After shredding a few slices, he added the jerky to the mixture of nuts and dried fruit until he had a substantial pile, and then he scooped it all into a small cotton sack. He reached into a bowl for several small, flat, biscuits and added them, another of her favorites. Baked until hard all the way through, usually with garlic or onion, they would last for days even though they were bland and hard to chew, but good food for traveling.

While he had been busy, Anna had slipped a small copper coin from her purse; the size most called a ‘thin.' Not much, but enough. She placed it on the table and moved her empty mug to cover it. She managed to thank him and leave before he discovered the gift. Coins were hard for farmers to come by. One day in the future she might come this way again and knew she’d be welcome, so it was money well spent, and only fair that he be paid for his generosity.

She soon came to a stream where the water ran fast and clear. She filled her water jar and also filled herself by drinking it dry twice before hanging the refilled jar by the loop over her neck. She chewed on a dried apple slice while walking, finding it had been soaked in tingling spices before drying, making it all the better. The world around her now felt right. She wanted to linger and play in the water, like a few years ago, but it was still morning and the palace a long distance away.

Passing other farms, there were barking dogs, children playing, and men working. Most women were inside, but now and then one stepped to the doorway and gave a cheerful wave. That night she slept in a grove of trees near another stream, a hundred paces off the road. Fire would be like a lantern drawing moths, or in this case, drawing brigands and thieves instead of moths. Better to be safe and skip a fire for another night.

Anna hoped to arrive at the Summer Palace late the following day. From there Tessa said it was possible to pay her way for a ride on a trader’s wagon going to Princeton. But since the destination had changed she would leave the wagon after a day and head into the hills. From there, she would travel on foot to the Castle Warrington by the route north of Bear Mountain, the volcano with the white top all year. It was also the home of a clutch of dragons and another Dragon Clan.

The last of the apple slices were already gone, but she had plenty of food left. The biscuits were like seashells protecting the clam inside. The outsides were tough enough to use as weapons if she threw them. The hard surface in her mouth, and it slowly softened. She considered soaking one of them in water, but decided she liked working for her food. Chewing them was certainly hard work.

At sunset, Anna laid her blanket out on a smooth place free of rocks, and soon was sound asleep. Suddenly, a hand reached out of the darkness and fingers twisted into a solid grip on her hair. She was violently yanked to one side and then lifted to her tiptoes. Then she was lifted higher in the dim light as someone examined her. She peered back into a shaggy face with breath so sour and rank she fought to hold in the food she had eaten inside. Spewing her meal on him might have given her a chance to escape, but it was too late.

Her hand went to the knife on her hip, but his other hand wrapped around hers and squeezed in warning. “Well, what do we have here?”