Dragon Clan #6: Anna's Story

CHAPTER FIVE

The Gambler whose livelihood depended on reading people’s intentions accurately read those of Thief, and backed off a few steps where he was out of reach. James hesitated, ready to speak again, but looked into the angry eyes of Thief and held his tongue.

Thief didn’t speak or threaten. He just stood as if carved from a log until James spun and walked down the road without as much as telling them to have a good day. As soon as he was around a bend in the road, Anna leaped up and gathered their belongings. She pointed to the forest instead of the road. “That way.”

They entered the trees, and she glanced back a few times to make sure the gambler hadn’t doubled back, but as long as the road was in sight, she didn’t see James again. In a gamble with herself, she’d bet that if they continued on the road, they would encounter James, very soon. He would pretend to have sprained an ankle or another excuse to travel again with them.

Why would a gambler wish to travel with her and Thief so badly? She thought about it as they traveled parallel to the road, or as close as possible while using any paths, trails, or tracks that went in the general direction. They traveled slower, but Anna enjoyed it more.

Often the paths went through where the trees were so large and close together that the path was a tunnel in a sea of green undergrowth, still a new experience for her. Looking up revealed only glimpses of blue sky, and the ground felt damp as if it never fully dried. For a girl from the drylands, the change was a wonderland. When a deer vaulted completely over the path without its hooves touching the ground in her sight, it was almost magic.

“That way,” Thief pointed.

She realized that with the twists and turns of the paths they followed, she had managed to lose her sense of direction. She took the path Thief indicated, but still felt she should have gone straight. Later, when she caught sight of the sun and reconciled her direction, she realized Thief had been right.

Thief reached out and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and forced her to her knees. About to protest, she heard a man whisper only ten steps ahead. The sound of his voice told her where he was, and her eyes picked out two men in deep shadow moving across their path slowly, each with a bow at the ready.

They hadn’t spotted her and Thief, she realized. They were deer hunting, probably, but the tans and brown colors she and Thief wore blended into the background of the trees and shade. It would be easy for them to be mistaken for deer and have arrows flying at them so she prepared to begin shouting and yelling if spotted.

As she watched them continue their hunt, with no desire to point out the way the deer had fled, she realized her vulnerability more than ever. Thief tapped her shoulder and pointed the way, again. They moved quickly, not running, but not walking, either. They moved quietly in the direction the hunters came from.

“Smoke.” She smelled it first and hissed the word. They halted and sniffed the air. It was gone, but she was sure.

Thief leaned closer to hear her. “Probably downhill.”

“Why?”

“Water.”

Fire and water, the two requirements of any good campsite. Thief had a way of making two or three words sound like an entire conversation. She went first. Not long after, she sniffed smoke again. From the edge of a clearing, they watched a campsite with a fire nearly burned out. As Thief predicted, it lay beside a small, but fast flowing stream.

There were three drying racks holding strips of meat. Under the racks were smaller fires, the smoke from each drifting upwards and smoking the meat. She wanted some. Nobody was around, and the two hunters were moving away from the camp when last seen. She edged closer and felt Thief’s hand on her shoulder again, fingers digging into her flesh.

“Just a few strips,” she hissed.

He held her still as he shook his head. He was probably right. A stray footprint or the hunters noticing the missing meat might have her answering uncomfortable questions if they decided to give chase. Besides, stealing was stealing, no matter the amount.

The smallest movement caught her attention. A man stood directly opposite of them across the clearing. He had been kneeling beside the stream, probably getting himself a drink. He was a tall, thin man wearing a shaggy beard and dirty shirt. Not just the shirt was dirty. He had smoke and grease stains from foot to head. The skinning knife he carried was larger than a small sword. He strode to a woodpile and used it to chop green branches into firewood, and he fed those to the various fires.

Anna had seen others like him in Fleming. Their eyes followed her when she walked. It was not the tangled beard or dirty clothing that put her off. It was something in his eyes. A vacant, slightly angry expression that told the world he was not happy with it. His scowl filtered all he saw.

She felt, more than heard, Thief easing a few steps away each time the man in the clearing turned his head so Thief wouldn’t be seen in his peripheral vision. Anna started doing the same, making sure each movement didn’t make a sound, or that her feet never stepped on a branch likely to snap and warn him.

When they were far enough away to make sure he couldn’t see them, they walked faster. The day was nearly over, and she wanted distance between them. After climbing a small hill and pausing to catch their breath, Anna caught sight of the road winding along the shallow valley, on the other side where the river flowed.

A collection of five houses and two barns clumped together drew her attention. Glancing at Thief, she wondered if he had ever slept on a real straw bed or eaten a full meal. She touched the bulge of her purse. “Come on, follow me.”

She avoided the road while skirting the open pastures as well. Walking out in the open allowed anyone looking her way to see her. Instead, she walked down a hedgerow to a line of trees, then to the rear of the building where she’s seen a large wooden sign swinging in the breeze over the door.

She’d seen signs hanging like it before. Peeking around the edge of a building she found it had a crude image of a black rabbit made with a hot iron. That made it the Black Rabbit Inn, windows aglow with yellow light from many candles already burning, and a meat stew cooking that had her drooling.

“This way,” she ordered, darting across the road and pulling up to a small window instead of entering. Knowing who might be inside was only reasonable. There might be soldiers of the King, a band of slavers, or others, who were worse. She peeked inside from the bottom corner of the window and found a large room with two long tables and crudely made chairs on either side. Across the room ran a bench the entire length of the room. Four people sat in the room, a man and wife at one end of a long table, and two men playing Tac at the other, pushing the tiles into the center between sipping ale.

She pulled away. One of the men had his back to her, but from the clothing and posture, it was James. She peeked inside again. He turned his head enough for her to see the large nose and she ducked, cursing softly. The light was failing, and she pointed to the trees at the end of another pasture. They were almost there when a door opened, and someone kicked a dog outside.

The door slammed closed as the dog caught the scent of them. They headed for the trees at a run, hoping the dog would give up when they were out of sight, but it didn’t happen. The dog followed and chased them, barking its warning to all ears in the hamlet. It was a guard dog, large and trained to pull down intruders. The inn probably had a lot of wanderers without the coin, trying to steal ale or food.

The dog gained on them. Thief stopped and spun, arms held wide to prevent the dog from reaching Anna. He ordered the dog to stop in a gruff voice. Snarling, the dog charged ahead and leaped, teeth bared, going for Thief’s throat.

Thief fell backward as if he stumbled. The dog flew over him, slashing and biting air. But as it flew past, Thief’s hand suddenly reached out. His fingers wrapped around the foreleg of the dog and grasped it firmly. As the dog continued its fall, Thief pulled the leg and twisted.

A snap of bone was followed by the wailing of the dog as it lay, one leg now at an odd angle. Anna started to go to it, but the dog saw her and snapped, trying to bite her while frothing at the mouth in its attempts to reach her.

Thief pulled her away. How could he do that to a dog?

She was sickened. But the answer was easy. Thief had protected her, risking the dog’s attack. What would have happened to her if he hadn’t broken the dog’s leg? Was it any different than if she had put an arrow into the beast, which was what she should have been prepared to do? She drew a breath. While not liking what had happened, she should accept that Thief may have saved her from serious injury or even death. She had it almost reconciled in her mind when the next thought crashed down upon her.

James was waiting at that inn. She felt he was waiting for her. He had mentioned he wanted to reach the Summer Palace quickly, by dark today, yet there he was sitting in an inn at a table where he could watch people on the road as he ‘gambled’ with a local. No doubt his room also fronted on the road. For the first time, James scared her.

“We have to get away from here,” she said. “I know it’s getting dark, but we have to move.”

Thief shrugged. He pointed to the whimpering dog.

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it. If we try to carry it, the dog will bite us.”

Thief’s eyes flicked to the Inn.

“That man James is in there. Waiting for you and me.”

Thief shook his head. Then shrugged in a fatalistic manner. What happens, happens.

She took the lead again. At least she knew James was now located behind them, and she intended to keep it that way. He’d mentioned that he was going to the Northwoods so if she slowed they might meet up again. There were only two roads leading to that area of the kingdom. After they had moved past the small community, she felt safe to take to the road again where they could move faster. They were tired and exhausted, and the lack of sleep was catching up, but they doggedly kept on. The night sky didn’t provide enough light to prevent a few trips from exposed roots and one fall from a hole, but neither mentioned slowing, not that Thief mentioned much of anything unless prompted and then it was usually a one-word response.

She had heard the creaks of wood and the jangle of chains before she heard the steady clomp of a mule. Turning, she found another wagon approaching from behind so she stepped aside with Thief to allow the wagon room to pass on the narrow road.

Instead of passing, the wagon pulled to a stop. A man wearing a drooping felt hat perched on the edge of a seat peering down at them. “What’re the two of you doing out here at night movin’ so fast? Somebody chasin’ you? I didn’t think I was ever goin’ to catch up with you.”

Anna muttered the brief account of going to help her grandmother who had taken a fall.

“Doin’ a good deed, are ye? Well, might as well climb in, I got lots of room.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. They climbed into the empty wagon bed. Anna asked warily, “Where are you going with an empty wagon?”

“The morning market at the Summer Palace. Hoping to buy me’self a few lambs and maybe a calf or kid. That’s a baby goat before you get all concerned and think I’m buyin’ a baby.”

Anna didn’t laugh at his joke. “The ride will be wonderful. Can we sleep in back?”

“Wouldn’t recommend it with all the bouncin’ and shaking this wagon’s gonna do, but you sure can try,” he laughed as he spoke. The mule walked on with the flick of a rein.

Thief sat with his back against one side of the wagon bed and watched the stars, and the few lights from farmer’s cabins in the distance, and the road ahead. Anna curled up and went to sleep, but after a jostle where she bounced her head on the floorboards painfully, she woke up. Thief reached out and pulled her head to rest on his thigh. She went right back to sleep.

She woke several more times, and with each of them, she heard the farmer telling tall tales and talking. Now and then Thief grunted a response, and that seemed like enough for the farmer to continue. Anna noticed Thief kept one hand on the handle of his new knife as she slept. Thief didn’t trust anyone. With what she imagined of his history, he had little reason to trust—but she trusted him, and the reverse seemed to be true.

Later, Thief shook her shoulder. When her eyes opened, he jutted his chin ahead. The day was breaking although the sun was not yet up. She sat and saw the high walls of King Ember’s Summer Palace in the distance. The road rose ahead, giving the impression the walls were even higher than they were.

The correct thing to do was thank the farmer for the ride, and then she and Thief could skirt around the palace, but Anna hesitated. Dragon Clan seldom left their families and villages. She had never been inside the Summer Palace, let alone any other palace. She saw the flags and streamers flying above the pointed tops of the watchtowers and along the ramparts she found other colorful flags and pennants. Palace guards marched their rounds on the ramparts in their red and gold uniforms, the rising sun reflecting off their shiny buttons and polished helmets.

Her attention was so fixed on all the newness that she didn’t notice how close they were getting to the main gate. The wagon, and her and Thief, were in plain sight of the soldiers standing guard. She imagined anybody climbing out and running off would be suspect. They might even send men on horseback to chase them down.

“We’ll stay here,” she whispered to Thief.

“What’s that you say?” the farmer asked, turning to hear better.

“I said, we’ll go to the palace with you if that is agreeable.”

He shrugged, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Anna, in her guise of the petulant little girl, couldn’t simply let it go. “I was just trying to be mannerly.”

The farmer snorted in what may have been laughter, but she wasn’t sure. When the wagon pulled up to the guards at the gate, one stepped in front with his arm raised for them to stop. Two other guards approached; one with a gold rope looped around his shoulder. That one said while holding a stylus ready to dip into a small bottle of ink, “Your name and business.”

“Names Richter. Hopin’ to buy a few animals for my farm.”

The pen poised to write. “Can you spell your name for me?”

“Nope.”

“Tell it to me again.”

“Richter.”

The soldier made a notation on the scroll and motioned for them to continue. But the farmer sat waiting for the soldier to look at him again. When he did, the farmer leaned closer. “Can I see?”

“What?”

“My name. I’d like to see what it looks like.”

There was a pause during which Anna held her breath, but the soldier relented holding the scroll closer. The farmer studied it and then smiled his thanks, and the wagon was moving again.

When they were out of earshot, she said, “They didn’t ask for our names.”

The farmer answered, “Must have thought you were with me, which you are, I’m thinkin'.”

That made all three of them laugh as he turned the wagon to the right and found a place to pull in beside twenty other wagons, most of which were filled with beets, carrots, firewood, leather goods, clothing, and a hundred other things for sale.

A boy rushed to the farmer and promised to feed the mule enough grass and grain to make it fat . . . If the farmer would give him a thin copper for his services. Before the farmer could refuse, Anna had a thin pulled and handed it to him. “Fat you say? If we return and find our mule not satisfied, I’ll hunt you down.”

“No worries, I’ll fetch him some water, too.” The grinning boy promised.

Walking in the direction of the market and hundreds of stalls, each a brighter color than the last, the farmer said, “Ye didn’t have to do that.”

“Would you have taken payment for our ride?”

“Nope.”

“Well, your mule did all the work so it’s only right he gets fed and watered.”

The farmer was still smiling when he left them to inspect a stall with goats of all ages. Anna and Thief slipped away and were soon lost in the morning activities of the market. Dancers twirled, singers sang, and vendors shouted over each other to call attention to their goods. Anna and Thief moved up one aisle and down another, buying a meat pie from an insistent child, and then cups of tea from a gaily dressed woman who claimed to have more varieties of tea than the King’s own kitchen.

They gawked at wood carvings so intricate and real that a live animal in their midst might be mistaken for one of them and paintings of far off places with beautiful women in colorful costumes. Smells assaulted their noses, children raced, vendors hawked, and the two of them wandered and stared until Thief exploded into action and knocked a man to the ground.

A crowd gathered as the man tried to regain his feet and escape, but Thief placed a foot on his neck and waited for the first palace guards to arrive. Each time the skinny young man under Thief’s foot attempted to free himself, Thief placed more weight on his foot.

Anna whispered, “Let him go. We can’t have trouble.”

“Hey, wot’s going on here?” A winded guard demanded as he charged up to them. “Let that man up, I say.”

Thief said, “Bad man.”

“Didn’t you hear me? Let him up.”

Thief didn’t respond other than to give one brief shake of his head. Four more guards arrived, one taking charge as he demanded of Thief in a more reasonable tone, “Why are you holding him down?”

Thief lifted his foot as he reached down and pulled open the shirt the man wore. Three purses spilled out, one of them Anna’s.

“That’s mine,” she cried, patting her waistline to make sure, then snatching it off the ground. The strings had been neatly sliced with a sharp knife.

A well-dressed man wearing blue the color of a summer day and the attitude of a lord stepped forward and reached for another purse. He opened it and said, “Mine.”

A sword appeared in the hand of the guard, the point touching the chest of the man. He said in a calm voice that carried with authority, “Anybody claim the third?”

When nobody spoke up, a voice behind Anna whispered loudly, “If nobody wants it, I’ll take it.” Several people laughed as the guard retrieved the last one and held it high for all to see. When again, nobody claimed it, he pronounced, “If any of you hears of a lost purse, send them to the guard.”

“What about him?” A voice asked.

Anger stirred within the crowd. A cutpurse ranked low on the social scale, an occupation despised by any who had lost the contents of a purse to the likes of him. “The dungeon,” someone snarled. Others took up the chant. “Dungeon. Dungeon. Dungeon.”

“That’s enough of that,” the guard said, motioning for the cutpurse to stand and said, “You will find stealing harder without all of your fingers.”

One of the other guards reached out and held up the man’s hand for the crowd displaying a thumb and only three fingers. “Not your first time getting caught, is it?”

The cutpurse had remained stoic, lips pursed and obedient. However, he flashed a look of hatred at Thief an instant before he spun and freed himself from the guard’s hand. In less time than it takes to blink, he darted into the crowd, squirreling and running, then he leaped over the counter at a stall and disappeared behind the tent. All five of the palace guards were in pursuit, but even Anna, who had never been in a crowded market, realized they would never catch him.

The crowd dispersed, many of them grumbling and making threats if they should ever see the cutpurse again. One or two muttered their appreciation for Thief’s quick action.

The incident revealed to Anna how vulnerable she was in this new place. With a gulp of regret, she realized that she was not here to enjoy the trip. It had been a dangerous waste of her time, an action of a child. Squaring her shoulders, she led the way out, Thief obediently following like a great puppy.

Nearing the same gate that they had entered the palace grounds, she still mumbled to herself for allowing the distraction to keep her from her goal. Glancing up, she noticed the stone wall that lined one side of the market. It was the dungeon, the repairs where a red dragon had knocked part of it down to free Raymer clearly visible.

She pulled to a halt, almost causing Thief to bump into her. Raymer had spent a year behind that wall. It was one of the recent tales of the Dragon Clan, known by all.

From the corner of her eye, Anna saw another palace guard approaching. She glanced around, finding no place to run. No choice presented itself but to face the guard. Anna decided to go on the offensive.

“I want to speak to you,” the guard said in a voice used to giving orders.

“And if I don’t want to speak with you?” She puckered her mouth and prepared to stare down the guard.

“Not you, miss,” his eyes were on Thief. His voice turned more friendly. “That man you took down back there, how’d you figure out what he was doing?”

Thief pointed to Anna. “He touched her.”

The guard had pulled to a stop a few steps away, smiling and nodding. “That all?”

“No.”

“Well, tell me, man. I’d like to train my men with what you saw.”

Thief said, “Eyes.”

“Ah, you were watching his eyes. I understand. He has to make sure nobody is watching him when he makes his move. Very clever,” The guard said. “Is there anything I can do for you while you’re here?”

Anna stepped forward. “No, but thank you. We’re in kind of a hurry.” She wished to spend as little time with King Ember’s palace guard as possible. Nothing good could come of it, but a lot that was not good could happen. She took Thief by his elbow and walked to the gate without looking behind.

The crunching of his boots on the gravel stayed with them. I need to let him do something for us, or he’ll never leave us alone. She turned, “Can you give us any help with directions to the Northwoods, sir?”

“I sure can. First, you’re heading for the wrong gate. You want the Warrington Gate, which is up that way,” he pointed. “If you get lost, ask anyone. Don’t delay, and you’re better sleeping well off the road until you get to Anders. The Brown Bear Inn is clean and safe, but avoid any in Ryland or Menno, if you can.”

“The inns in those towns?”

“Neither is a place for a pretty little girl like you, but keep your brother right at your side for protection.”

The guard believed Thief was her brother, and she didn’t correct him. The information was good, but she didn’t know where any of the three villages were, except that they must be on the road to the Northwoods. She thanked the guard and turned to enter the market again to find the Warrington Gate he’d told them to take.

When they left the market, they entered a section of town that was winding lanes that twisted and turned as if no construction worker knew how to make a straight line, or perhaps they were intoxicated. She could seldom see more than a few doorways ahead. When they passed an inn, Anna couldn’t help glancing at the window. When passing the second of the inns on the street, she caught sight of James, the traveler from the day before.

He had been looking into the street, and as she saw him, his head turned away as if he’d seen her first and was trying to hide. She increased the pace and looked behind often. When they finally found another gate, she verified with the guard that it was the Warrington Gate.

Outside the walls was a cleared area where no trees were allowed to grow near the walls for the defense of the palace. Enemies couldn’t sneak up, and archers on the walls had an open field of fire. When they reached the edge of the forest, Anna pulled Thief into the underbrush and waited. She watched the gate, expecting to see James appear at any time.