The Last Dragon: Book One

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

After our rest and meals, we were ready to ride. The road to Dayton was empty of horses or people walking, but most people rarely, if ever, travel. There were serfs and freemen in the palace who had never been outside the stone walls, birth to death. The travel that most experienced was from a farm to a market to sell their produce, and back.

The sun had burned off the morning fog, our horses had spring in their step, and we sat tall in our saddles. We had not discussed what would happen when we reached the store, but I assumed Elizabeth would inform us before reaching it. From the description the innkeeper provided, the ride was short.

It came as no surprise when the smoke from a hundred chimneys spread a pall over the buildings in the distance. Elizabeth continued riding without pause. Her back was almost as stiff as Tater’s.

As we passed a man repairing a fencepost, she pulled up and asked directions. The question seemed to upset the farmer, but he answered briefly and quickly went back to his repairs as if we had ridden on past without stopping.

My impression was the farmer was intimidated, not by Elizabeth but by the store owner in some unknown manner. However, what I knew, and the farmer didn’t, was that Elizabeth was a princess. She wielded immense power when she chose. If we survived the coming encounter, I suspected she had already made up her mind to use those powers to punish the owner of the store who accepted stolen goods in trade and threatened the locals.

I waited for her to slow and express her wishes and explain our course of action. She continued riding. Dayton was large enough to have several cross streets, paved roads, and an intersection where two large roads intersected. On one corner of that intersection stood a two-story building, the lower half constructed of tan, almost brown colored stone. It gave the appearance of solidity.

The few windows were high up on the walls, the front door massive. At one time the store must have had another purpose, but now a pair of roughly dressed men lounged near the door, their eyes on anything that moved. Intuitively, we all knew they were employees of the strong-arm variety.

Their unfriendly eyes rested on us as we approached. Just because it felt right, I suggested to the nearer one with a bit of magic that a mosquito was biting the back of his neck. As he swatted it, I grinned.

However, it was not simply a game I played. My magic might be required to help us, and that had been my test to ensure it worked on them. It also told me they were not magical beings like Stata. We pulled to a stop in front of the door.

Elizabeth climbed down and pointed to one of the pair watching her. “You there. Be a good boy and hold our horses while we go inside.”

Her tone held utter contempt and superiority. The rest of us dismounted, too. I wished for my sword or crossbow, or both.

He finally gathered enough wits about himself to growl, “I don’t hold no horses for nobody.”

“Then, what do you do? Stand there all day with your finger up your nose looking stupid?” She said it loud enough for all of us to hear, as well as two local women hurrying by. Both giggled. The guard took a step closer to Elizabeth while puffing out his chest.

A burst of small magic pushed his left foot aside his step, so it caught behind his right calf. He tripped, stumbled forward a few steps and recovered. By then she had her hand on the door and called to us, “Come quickly, we have business inside.”

We left the horses standing in the street. I wished for a spell that would keep them there but only knew how to send them into a panicked run. We’d each tied our reins to another horse, so wherever one would go, so would the others.

The inside of the store was dim, cluttered, and smelled like the underside of an old boot, combined with a damp and musty undertone. A new wagon wheel blocked the access to a pile of furs, and barrels were stacked, each clearly branded with the king’s crest for the Royal Army. I doubted if the army had sold them—or what they had once contained.

In one corner were coils of hemp string, rope, cable, and braids of leather. Nearby were pots, buckets, plates, and farm tools, not all new. Shelves held hinges, clasps, nails, and other ironwork, so there was a method and organization to the storage other than general use. A stairway near the center led to a balcony with what appeared to be offices and perhaps sleeping quarters.

At the top of the balcony stood a huge man. He was as big around as he was tall yet didn’t give the impression of being fat. He faked a smile and lumbered down the stairs as he called, “What can I sell you today, or are you doing the selling?”

Another man, a small weasel of a character stood behind a counter and observed. The innkeeper had said to watch him, not the big one.

Elizabeth moved in front of us. She extended her hand to shake and waited until he accepted it before speaking, a ploy Kendra and I knew well. She was establishing who was in charge. “Good afternoon, good sir.”

“And to you,” he smiled, trying to be gracious to the beautiful woman.

She said, “I have a small problem you can help us resolve.”

His amused smile slipped into one for bargaining. “Tell me.”

“Two days ago, we were set upon by thieves in the mountains. They stole from us and brought those things here, where you purchased them. We want them back.”

He threw his arms wide, and the smile became amused again. “It seems to me that you have a problem with your thieves, not me. Take it up with them.”

Elizabeth waited, which is usually best before cutting the knees from under an opponent. In a calm, sweet voice, she said, “We did take it up with the twelve of them. They are all dead.”

His smile slipped. “Who killed them?” His eyes swept the other three of us as if seeing us for the first time. Tater and his broken arm and bruises covering his face, Kendra looking intentionally girlish, and me without a weapon.

“You?”

“Sir, we will leave here with our belongings. You should make sure your sellers are also owners.”

It was made as a statement of fact, and concern showed in his confused expression. He stood a head taller than me, weighed twice what I did, and he had two men outside ready to rush in and join any fight. I casually turned and lowered the bar across the door. His help could enter through another door, but that would take time.

“Hey, there. You can’t do that.”

I didn’t respond.

The small man hadn’t said a word but watched all.

Elizabeth said, “There are now four of us and only one of you. Yes, your men will arrive here sooner or later when you shout for them, but if that happens, you will not be alive to see that, sir.”

His eyes swept past us. “You have no weapons.”

“And you are betting your life on what you do not see. You will lose, as did the twelve who stole from us. Do you have a list of what you purchased from two men early yesterday morning?”

He reached for a knife with a blade so long it was almost a short sword. I pulled heat from his sweating body and concentrated it on the handle. As he raised it to threaten us, his fingers reflexively opened at the intense heat, and the knife fell to the floor in a clatter of iron on wood.

He shouted, “What the hell?”

“You dropped your knife, sir,” Elizabeth said. “Now, do you have a list of our belongings, or shall we decide what to take?”

I watched the smaller man.

He’d had enough of her insolent talk. He charged her. I kicked an empty keg in front of him. He leaped over it, arms extended to grab Elizabeth, but she had already dived to one side. He spun, quick as a cat. He faced her again, in a crouch, ready to grab her before she darted away again. In his anger, he’d forgotten about us three because he stood directly in front of Tater. But faced Elizabeth and ignored him. Tater’s hand held an iron hinge suitable for a large gate, a hinge as long as my forearm.

He didn’t hesitate. Tater slashed it across the back of the storekeeper’s head. The big man crumpled. Elizabeth looked at me briefly. “Tie him up, please.”

The small man behind the counter rang a bell. The front door clattered. The man glanced to his left, and there was another door. A swing-bar was in the vertical position. With a nudge, it moved and fell into the iron straps. His attention went to the far side of the room where a carriage door was closed.

I walked there as the second door rattled. An iron stave locked that one.

The pile of rope coils had provided all we needed and more to tie the giant of a man. We didn’t need him waking and getting free, and there was plenty of rope, so we tied his wrists and feet. Then his knees and elbows, a few loops around his neck and a convenient stanchion, and then one smaller rope tossed over a ceiling beam and around his waist.

The small man watched, his bell now on the counter. He didn’t ring it again.

Kendra went to the counter. She leaned across and asked the small man as calmly as if nothing had happened, “We’re also looking for a dog with one ear missing.”

“Out back,” he snorted as if that was funny.

“Thank you.” She backed away, as calmly as if she was in Crestfallen Palace.

Tater headed for the rear door, and I followed. I allowed the door to open a crack and we returned with Springer in his arms. Fresh blood covered his front leg. I may have felt sorry for the storekeeper until seeing the new injury on the dog. It looked like another dog had attacked him. There was also the look Elizabeth gave to the unconscious man. He was better off comatose and bleeding from the wound on his head than conscious and facing her.

She turned to the smaller man, who was no longer smiling. “That will cost you.”

“You don’t know what you’ve done. I’ll have all four of you hung on those rafters above you before the day is over.”

Elizabeth smiled wanly. “You are almost right. There will be a hanging from those rafters. Damon, tie him and put him with the other one.”

She made no more threats. We discovered most of our things still together, in a room at the top of the stairs. I strapped on my sword and knife and felt safer. Then reconsidered. Tater was owed a good knife since his was still in the bag of skin that had been Stata. Expecting he would refuse, I was surprised when he accepted my offer to give him mine. His grin was thanks enough. A cache of knives lay on a nearby table, and I helped myself to the best there was, not nearly as good as mine, but worth the trade no matter how I looked at the deal.

Elizabeth located our silver and gold in the rear of a drawer. She went right to it as if she could smell it. She never hesitated in taking it all, which was far more than we’d had. My crossbows were near a target made in the shape of a man. From the locations of the holes, someone had either been very good or stood very close. I suspected the later.

In a short time, we had taken what we believed ours, what we wanted and stood at the door, knowing those waiting outside would wonder and probably rush inside to find their boss tied on the floor—then they would be after us. Elizabeth said, “Damon, can you take care of this?”

My eyes closed, and feelings of tiredness and sleep washed over them. Both moved to the chairs and sat down. Their snores came easily as they were completely relaxed. Their dreams were filled with the sounds of cabinet doors closing, high winds shrieking, and trees falling. Neither would hear us and wake if we shouted at each other.

That was the sort of magic a mage might use, and the drain on me would cost fatigue. Giving Elizabeth a nod, she opened the front door and strolled out. Our horses were still where we’d left them. After one quick look at the guards to make sure they hadn’t awoken, we put our things on the packhorse, and Tater carried Springer in his arms. As we rode out of town, I placed the thoughts in the guard’s minds that they had a clear vision of us returning the way we entered the city. I did the same for the few people on the street as we rode in the opposite direction. Still, I’d keep a close watch on our backs. No doubt, a unit of the King’s Army would soon find themselves relocated to Dayton, along with their explicit orders from Elizabeth to arrest and close the store, and the men would hang. The army would probably try to return what they could to the rightful owners, and the entire population of Dayton would be better off and happier.

The road ahead followed the contours of the rolling hills. Despite the beauty of the area, my eyes were turned inward, thinking only about the confrontation behind us, and the private time I needed to speak with Kendra. She didn’t yet know she couldn’t go to Mercia—our destination, and I was too tired to ride.

Tater rode with the dog. Each time he spat, I tried to direct it to whatever target was within range. He left his mark on stumps, fence posts, rocks, and a cow’s head. I felt sorry for the cow and used a little more of the essence of the world to rid it from the cow, although a good question for me to follow up on would be to find where it had gone after leaving the cow. I’d hate to think there was some other innocent animal somewhere that got splattered.

The thought gave rise to a chuckle, one of the first in days, it seemed. Thinking of Tater took me to the odd expression he’d thrown my way while in the store. The incident with the hot knife my magic had caused, and after, when we’d discovered the guards sleeping when leaving. Elizabeth had asked me to take care of the guards before we left, and Tater had paid attention. He didn’t know what had happened but suspected I was at the center. That meant, carrying the thought to a logical conclusion, he would be watching me far closer.

He probably also wondered why we were not worried about pursuit. Elizabeth would have to speak to him and convince Tater to remain quiet, or I’d have to break one of the covenants the three of us made and use magic to suppress his memory. Earlier, I’d checked the flow of Springer’s bleeding, and took the time to check it again, with my mind. It seemed to be one of those injuries that bleed and bleed but are not really serious unless they are mine.

Even with the nap at the inn, we were still sleep deprived. It was late in the day, and we started looking for a place to spend the night. We went through two small villages, one with an inn, but I too had become leery of them. Tater was a good teacher.

A farmer walked along the road, a pitchfork over his shoulder, and the slump of a man who had worked hard all day. I dismounted and walked beside him. He was local and might know of a meadow beside a stream or clearing in the woods. He smiled a greeting and asked, “Do something for you?”

“We’re strangers, and inns are expensive. Do you know of a good place to spend the night?”

“Are you picky?”

Before answering, I thought about it. “Well, yes.”

He laughed. “Good answer. Me too. I have a barn. Smells like a barn, which some like. The hay is clean and stored in the loft, and it’s free.”

“I didn’t mean to impose. Is there a place where other travelers set up camp and spend the night around here?”

“Sure,” he said with a sly smile while jutting his chin on down the road. “It’s a good place right over that hill. But not when a storm’s coming in, and there’s a dry barn offered.” His chin now jutted to the jagged ridge of mountains in the distance, and the dark clouds hanging low. A bolt of lightning split the clouds, but it was too far off to hear the rumble. “Rain by dark. Looks like a bad one.”

“Can I offer you a ride to your barn?” I joked, ready to mount and help him up on Alexis behind me.

His eyes widened, and turned to Alexis in admiration, as well they should. Farmers know animals and seldom see good ones, let alone those royals own. In a single motion, he handed me his pitchfork and leaped into the saddle, misunderstanding my offer. “Mind if I trot her?”

The idea had been that I’d give him a ride—with me. Nearly speechless, the pitchfork went over my shoulder, as he’d carried it and said, “She loves to run, but not too far. We’ve come a long way.”

Alexia leaped forward at the touch of his heels, while I walked and ignored the laughter of the other three. There seemed only one thing to do. I raised my head up and kept my back straight as if that was the deal we’d made. A ride on my horse traded for a night in a dry barn.

Tater said, “He might not come back, you know. Why’d you let him ride her?”

I pointed to the clouds. “Hard rain by dark and we have a barn with a loft and clean hay to spend the night.”

Kendra smiled.

Elizabeth said, “I knew we should keep you around.”

The farmer trotted Alexis back wearing a grin that told us more than words of how impressed he was. Alexia was bred for royalty. Her ride was as smooth as most cradles, as fast as the wind, and—well she was my horse, and there was none better. He pointed to a stand of trees. “Just past that. Only one farm there. I’ll be waiting.”

Alexis whirled around, and I admired her from a view I’d seldom seen. Even from behind, she was magnificent. We reached the barn as the first raindrops fell.