The Last Dragon: Book One

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tater and I left the campsite after caring for our horses and staking them in a place with plenty to eat. We intended to walk to the inn and return before dark. Walking wouldn’t attract the attention riding in on horses would. Tater’s pack horse wore a special saddle made for carrying bulky loads. He didn’t bother unpacking it before gesturing with his thumb to ask if I was ready.

We left on foot, following the stream, or at minimum keeping it on our right where there were marshy places to walk. The high bank provided cover. We smelled smoke before seeing buildings, and then my stomach growled as my nose recognized meat cooking.

We didn’t speak as we moved closer. Pastures and small farms surrounded the inn and community, the farmers probably deriving a decent income from selling meat and vegetables to the inn. However, Tater angled off to one side to prevent us from being seen, and I realized that instead of entering the inn from the front, he intended to look in the pole-barn, first. He kept the barn between us and the road.

Still, we felt exposed. Any farmer looking our way couldn’t help but see us slinking around. A dog might run our way at any time. We silently moved from pasture to pasture, and then to one side of the pole barn, where we slipped around the corner and inside. Six horses were in the stalls.

It took only an instant to ascertain that none of them were from the royal herd.

Confused, I said, “Were you wrong about the hoofprints?”

He gave me a glare that said I should shut up. The two may simply have ridden past the inn and were spending the night somewhere else. We entered via a side door and were greeted by a man who, if judged by his red nose, had emptied a lot of mugs of his own ale. He glowered at us. In response, I nudged his mind gently with my magic, just the slightest touch, giving him a more humorous outlook on life. He smiled and asked what we wanted to drink.

We ordered two tankards of sour ale that turned out to be unfit for people to drink, at least not those with the ability to taste. Handing mine back, I asked for white wine, instead. The innkeeper poured the sludge he called ale back into the barrel, possibly explaining the reason for some of the foul taste and reached for a pitcher on a shelf. The wine was worse than the ale.

Tater finished his mug and wiped his lips with the back of a filthy sleeve and said, “You going to drink that?”

I shook my head.

He pulled my mug of wine closer to him, took a long swig, and turned to the innkeeper. “We’re trying to catch up with a couple of people who went through here today.”

The bartender smiled. “Boy and girl? In a hurry?”

Tater looked at me. I shrugged.

Tater, always deceptive and sneaky, said, “Can you describe them?”

The innkeeper smiled evilly. He was teasing Tater in some way. It shouldn’t have made him so happy and was getting irritating. I considered causing an errant bee flying inside the inn and stinging him.

He said, “You mean how tall, the color of hair, that sort of thing?”

“Yes, sure,” Tater said, looking at me for agreement.

The innkeeper placed his hand to his chin and tugged on his beard a time or two. He fought back laughter as he said, “Well, let me see. The boy came up to about here. Nice clothes, better than I’ve ever worn, but what else would you expect Lord Kent to wear?”

“Lord Kent?” I exploded, no longer waiting to smile at the expected joke. That was it. Instead of laughing, anger filled me. The simpering fool who had tried courting Lady Elizabeth only this morning was the mysterious rider, or at least half the pair. We should have guessed. We’d already discussed his sudden “illness” and the traveling food he’d requested from the kitchen, but it still took me by surprise.

The innkeeper grinned merrily, and his eyes danced in response to his wit. “Yes sir, Lord Kent himself and that Princess Anna was with him. Do you want me to describe her too?”

I controlled my temper and placed a full copper penny on the table, far more than the cost of the wine and ale, while the innkeeper cackled. I took Tater by his arm and pulled him outside so fast Tater barely had time to finish my wine on the way. He sat the mug on the last table we passed and hurried outside.

Another question came to me, and conflict filled me as if we should enter the inn again or rush back to tell Elizabeth with what we’d discovered so we could discuss the ramifications. While I wanted to do the latter, I returned to the inn. To Tater, I said, “Stay here.”

Back inside the door, the innkeeper examining the coin I’d overpaid for the ale, and he was still laughing softly to himself. I removed the happy-spell, and his face drew tighter. I called, “When did they leave?”

“Just about when you got here. You almost caught them at the barn. Surprised you didn’t. When they saw you two sneaking up here across the fields, my guess was they rushed out there to greet you.” His thumb pointed to the single small window that looked out over the pastures we’d crossed.

The answer stilled me. My voice failed. The innkeeper decided that was the funniest thing he’d heard in a long while. Without my help, his peals of laughter followed me outside where Tater stood.

“They saw us through the window,” I snapped as if it was Tater’s fault. His hurt expression made me second-think it. I quickly relented, “Never mind that, it was my responsibility, not yours.”

He walked behind as we headed back. After a few steps, he said in a serious way, “Takes a big man to say he was wrong. Don’t think I’ve ever done it.”

“Never?” I asked, genuinely interested despite all the random thoughts swirling around in my mind.

“Nope. Easier to find someone else to blame.”

That called for laughing or crying. Before I’d sorted out my thoughts, we arrived at the campsite right at dusk, to the tune of the dog barking like we were going to steal its dinner. A small fire burned cheerily, and the two nephews of Tater stepped out of the deep shadows, where they had hidden with their knives in hand as a reaction to the dog. All in all, I was pleased.

Kendra calmed Springer with a piece of food tossed his way. The barking mercifully quit, and Tater told his nephews to head on home, and he’d pay them on his return because we weren’t staying the night. They grumbled and left, but Springer remained. Tater’s statement obviously bewildered the women, however, neither said anything until the boys were long gone.

I sat across from them and said, “There is something to say, but both of you are going to want to interrupt me a dozen times before I finish. Let me get most of it out, and then you start asking questions.”

Kendra’s tone was colder than the night-chill on my back. “Go on.”

I stuck out my hands to warm them near the fire even though they were not cold. “Tater saw a pair of tracks on the road from two horses from the King’s stable. The riders cut across the land instead of following the road. They left the palace after us and managed to get to the road ahead of us. Then they trotted to keep out of sight.”

Elizabeth, eyebrows furrowed, asked, “You’re sure?”

“Tater is very good at what he does.”

Kendra said, “Royalty would prefer to be comfortable and stay at the inn, so you went there to see who it was, I assume.”

It was said in a tone that was not a question. I continued, “They spotted us sneaking up on the inn. There isn’t much cover, just grass, and pastureland. They rode off before we reached the inn.”

I paused, not knowing what to expect. Elizabeth said, “You went inside the inn and confirmed their identities?”

“Lord Kent and Princesses Anna.” There seemed no easy way to say their names than to blurt them out. Rather than reveal more of my conclusions, we waited for the shock to ease. Elizabeth’s face twisted in anger, then relaxed, or appeared to—to a casual observer. However, there was rage behind her stoic expression.

Elizabeth said, “Have you any knowledge of why they avoided us?”

Knowledge of why they were on the road in the first place, why they had hidden, or why they rode off when they saw us were all good questions. Instead, in my eloquent manner and without adding my theories, “No.”

“Speculate,” she ordered as she pulled the dog into her lap and stroked it.

Tater had managed to edge his way back into the deeper shadows so only I faced the women in the firelight. I’d remember his cowardly action and make sure it cost him in the future. “They must have discovered where we were going and want to get there first.”

Princesses Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest. “Obviously. What else?”

“They’re working together?”

“And?”

“I saw Avery riding a horse earlier when I was at the stables. He was dressed-down and looked like he had travel-packs on the horse, but there is no way of knowing where he was going.”

She had no intention of letting up on me. I changed tactics and said, “We have two choices. We can race ahead and try to catch up with them. Or not.”

Kendra rolled her eyes at me. “They already know we’re here, that’s why they went on ahead. Clearly, we can’t surprise them, so what’s the use?”

Elizabeth picked up where my sister left off. “What would we do or say? Hello, we raced ahead so we could ask you why it is so important for you to get to Mercia before us? If it is that important, will they tell us?”

Kendra said, “Accosting someone of Lord Kent’s rank will be remembered far into the future. That does not seem prudent.”

I held up my palms to slow them. “Hey, it was a choice, and that’s what you asked for. That’s all.” Then in a rational tone to agree with them, “In my estimation, I do not think we should try to catch up.”

Both scowled at me as if they knew exactly what was happening.

Tater said, “There might be another way, another choice.” He spat at the fire and missed.

We all turned to him. He spat into the fire this time, and we all watched it sizzle before he continued, “It’s a four-day ride on horseback to Mercia, five in your carriage. But I know another way. Through the mountains. Well, over them is more the truth than through them. It’s up and down, so no carriage and no inns to stay at, but the old trail is a full day shorter.”

I turned to Elizabeth. Her eyes went to the carriage.

Tater anticipated her. “I could ride out and catch up with my nephews in no time. They’re on foot and will probably stop and sleep between here and the road. Have one of them drive the carriage back to the farm while we ride horses. They can tell my brother what’s happening.”

“We only have two horses,” Kendra said. “We can’t double-up for that far.”

“If’n I remember right, there were six horses at the inn, and my packhorse, too. Maybe we could buy three more.” Tater had the good sense to shut up and wait for Elizabeth to decide. When she didn’t, he said, “Two to ride and one for your stuff, if you can manage without nine or ten of those chests.”

It didn’t take long. She turned to me. “While Tater is chasing after his nephews, you go back to the inn and encourage the innkeeper to sell us three horses and tack. We’ll pack so we can depart at first light.”

Her emphasis on the one word didn’t escape me. She wanted me to use my magic if needed, but one way or the other she wanted three horses. In my purse was more than enough to buy all six horses and the inn—if he wished to sell. Despite her instructions, I suspected the two women would pack more than one horse could carry, so I’d return with four instead of the three she wanted.

The night had grown very dark. I retraced our path to the inn and quickly saw the glow of a lantern outside in front and more candles and lamps inside. The lantern out front was to welcome travelers and let them know the inn was open for business. While the horses were my primary goal, eating would be the second.

The unhappy innkeeper recognized me. There were now two other travelers in the room, a pair of burly men with their heads bent low over bowls of stew. From the fragrance filling the room, it might have been the best stew in the kingdom. Seating myself put me away from them, of course, but where I could keep an eye on both at the same time. Never trust travelers.

The innkeeper smiled his way to my table and stood, waiting. “Sir, I want red wine if you have it. And a bowl of stew. Do you have bread?”

“Hard rolls baked only a couple of days ago.”

“A pair of them, too.”

I didn’t mention the horses because I didn’t like or trust the men who now seemed just a little too uninterested in me. Travelers tend to look at each other and size them up. Friend or foe. Danger or not. Travel is risky. Yet, the two large men, both with biceps larger than my waist, studiously avoided making eye contact.

If they knew of the silver and gold in my purse to buy horses, they would either waylay me before or after. It’s not reading minds or a trick of my magic. It’s not. But some people betray their every move to anyone watching carefully. One covered his mouth with the back of his hand and whispered to the other when there was no need.

My initial reaction was to make them believe their stew had so much red-spice in it they’d run outside to the well and attempt to drink it dry. The problem was, they’d probably return and take out their frustrations on the innkeeper.

He returned with my rolls and stew. Off to the side was a single that was filled with cots, as was customary. Everyone would sleep in the same room. “If I stay the night, will there be others?”

“Just those two over there, so far. Be right back with your wine.”

Waiting for them to depart wouldn’t work. My magic couldn’t make them sleepy, at least not my small magic. However, it could make them think they were, so the result was the same. Most likely, they had traveled all day and were already tired, so my magic was only a slight enhancement. I yawned. They followed suit.

The stew was good.

I yawned again.

The innkeeper stopped by to see what else I needed. “Grab yourself a mug of wine or ale, on me. Then, let’s discuss some business.”

Their heads were bobbing. To their credit, they fought against the magic, but when one nearly placed his face in his bowl, he stood and stumbled to the common sleeping room. A moment later, the other did too.

Some might think I would have reservations or recriminations, but that is not the case. The two men were overly tired and would awake to feel far better than if they stayed up half the night waiting for the opportunity to steal from me. To my way of thinking, making them sleepy did them a favor without demanding or expecting any thanks for my good deed. That makes me a good person, some might say.

The innkeeper returned as I tried to break the crust on my roll that was supposed to only be two days old. Tapping it on the table top didn’t work, then pounding harder to break through the crust failed. My knife couldn’t cut it.

The innkeeper said in a helpful tone, “Soak it in your stew for a while.”

He handed me a wooden spoon. I used it after wiping it clean on my shirt. The stew was good. Very good. The spices were new to me, they made my mouth tingle, and I eagerly scooped more. The hard roll absorbed gravy and while chewy, tasted wonderful.

“You wanted to talk to me?” he asked.

“I need some horses.” Sometimes being direct is the best way to approach a subject, but I kept my voice soft to avoid being overheard by someone unseen, a nearly impossible task in a public inn.

“Only got one horse I might let go.”

And that showed that sometimes being direct is not always the best way. I nudged his mind slightly since and suspected he had more than one he’d let go. Probably all six were for sale at the right price. He was a horse trader by vocation and would take full advantage and enjoy every bit of the process. I bore down. “Only one?”

“It’s a good horse.”

And if asked by another to judge them, I’d believe the other five were better, and he’d try to unload the poorest of the lot on me. He was skillful, and my magic only able to perform small units of persuasion. A full mage might be required to deal with the man dealing with me if he expected to come out ahead. “Ever seen that man who was with me before?”

“Tater?”

“His family lives just up the road. He’s chasing after his nephews at first light to see if they will sell us a few good horses, and he’s certain they will. Family comes first with Tater, but there were six in your barn, and I would like to save him that trip.”

The innkeeper seemed to deflate. I pushed harder, “Listen, don’t worry about it, we’re not in a hurry and Tater’s family can use the extra money, plus he says they have some good stock for our trip.”

“Mostly old swaybacks,” the innkeeper grumbled. “How many are you looking for?”

“Three,” I told him, planning to use the fourth to bargain with later.

“I can sell you maybe three and save him a trip just ’cause Tater’s been a good customer. He brings me a fair amount of business.”

Pushing my chair back, I said, “Well, I’d have to see them first, but really, I shouldn’t have come and asked. Tater won’t be too happy with me for this.”

In the pole barn, he pointed out the three worst of the six. The other three were better, and we also required saddles and tack. I showed him a few coins. Finally, he convinced me to buy the three we wanted. After a touch of my magic to improve his generosity, he also included a fourth horse because he was “losing so much on the deal,” which made no sense to anyone but him. After I resisted at first, he whined and complained until he got his way and understood he would no longer have to care for or feed the horses we took off his hands. He would be saving money. He grumbled the entire time we got the horses ready, and I considered allowing him to give me something else so he would feel even better.

Tomorrow, he’d tell anyone who would listen how he’d fleeced me. Oh well, in the future I’d have to be more careful and learn to horse-trade. Still, it had been fun, and if he had stuck with what the horses and saddles were really worth, it would have cost me more. Small magic is a great bargaining tool.

The bridles of each were tied to the saddle of another horse, and I mounted the first. They followed in a line, four horses that would never grace the royal stables, but seemed strong and able to walk all day, eat the local grass at night, and do the same again the next day. The cost should have been twice what we paid.

Long before I reached camp, Springer greeted me with his yapping that refused to stop until Kendra fed him again. We couldn’t complain. That yapping was why we brought him, and nobody was going to sneak up on us. The women were sleeping under the carriage, using it for a tent with blankets draped down the sides. I crawled beside them where they had spread another blanket for me and went to sleep.

Tater returned during the night with one nephew. I only knew because Springer warned us when he was still way out on the main road. He yapped until Tater and his nephew arrived. They bedded down on the other side of the meadow.

Before I knew it, Elizabeth shook me awake. “Sunup.”

It was not. The sky to the east was perhaps lighter, but not even pink. All the stars were still out. However, she was always right. We woke the others. It was only the matter of a few moments until we had the two extra packhorses ready to travel. Tater and his nephew discussed the route we would take. His nephew would take the carriage, and he gave him a few coins in case he needed anything and to pay for feed.

Tater said to us, “We’ll use the road this morning, then head off on a little-used trail for the hills.”

“What if Lord Kent and Princes Anna sleep late and we catch up with them?” Kendra asked.

Elizabeth said, “Then we will ride on right past them, and we will not need Tater’s shortcut, but don’t count on that.”

“It won’t happen, will it?” My question was really a statement, and one I should have kept to myself because it almost repeated what she had said.

“Of course not. After seeing you, they probably rode well into the night, pushing their horses to the limit. Right now, my wager would be that they are also awake and preparing to ride hard all day to remain ahead of us.”

She was right. What I didn’t know was why they would do it? What was so important that they risked Princess Elizabeth’s ire to arrive before us? Princess Anna had made Elizabeth angry once already. Doing it a second time was ignorant.