Rake's Story

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Rake's Story Page 9

by LeRoy Clary


  Of course, that was fifty years earlier and things change. It would only take one water source to dry up and make the crossing impossible, but obviously, that hadn’t happened. At least a few Crabs had made the trip, and so had others to spread the rumors. It sounded like there was quite a bit of interaction between Breslau and the free state of Oakhaven. That was new knowledge and perhaps useful.

  Cinder was still inside the cabin helping with the dinner. Cobalt was nowhere to be seen, avoiding them probably.

  “Give me a hand with those chairs?” Frog asked, motioning to three sitting near a small outbuilding, a work shed, from the looks of the outside.

  The cabin was small, even for three people. There wouldn’t be a table large enough for five inside. As they gathered the chairs, behind the toolshed, Rake noticed the slow-moving stream for the first time. The water looked waist-deep and it was wide enough that two tree trunks had been placed side by side across it for a footbridge, just like he intended to do at home. The stream explained why the farm had been located where it was. The road was nearby but the farm was hidden from sight from passersby on the road, and it had plenty of water for the stock.

  It could have been built closer to the road as was normal for farms, and still be located next to the stream, but someone building the farm had wanted seclusion. Not Frog or his mother. Maybe a generation back, or even the next. The idea spurred Rake’s imagination.

  Frog had chased a dragon as if captivated by the dragon and admitted watching another with wonder. The farm was built on a floodplain, the cabin logs gray with age, the same as his home. The outbuildings were also the same, old and sturdy. The farm was set back from the road far enough that most travelers would never know it existed. His brother wouldn’t speak of things that would endanger his family—especially if his family was Dragon Clan.

  If true, it answered several small mysteries surrounding Frog’s family.

  The question became how to find out the truth without revealing Rake’s interest or his birthmark. He couldn’t come right out and ask them. Accusing them might cause fighting or hard feelings, especially if untrue. As with all strangers who are not known for certain to be family, he wouldn’t allow them to see the intricate designs on his back, in case they were not Dragon Clan. But there were other ways. He decided to keep his suspicions to himself until they ate the meal and talked. The clues so far were meager at best, and possibly contrived by himself. Perhaps another clue or two would reveal or discredit his suspicions.

  They placed the chairs across from the bench and moved a worktable that had a surface marred by a generation or two of hammering, slicing, carving, and more, to straddle the bench. It was another indication they seldom, if ever, had guests. Frog had claimed his mother liked guests, and that appeared untrue. Few outside guests seemed the norm. That was also like most Dragon Clan—however, many families of regular people were not overly friendly.

  Rake remembered only twice having guests at his cabin. Both times the visitors were Dragon Clan from other mountain communities, their association known before the invitations were extended. Like Frog’s family. Never had naturals been invited.

  Cinder carried bowls and wooden spoons to the table and rushed back for more. She brought bread still in the pot where it had cooked, overflowing at the top. Frog’s mother carried a second black pot that stood on three small iron legs. Cinder fetched a pitcher of cool water and five lumpy, homemade clay mugs as Rake carried armfuls of hay to the sheep.

  They finally sat uneasily around the table. All were reserved in conversation. Each waited for others to speak, so none did. Frog’s mother silently ladled out the food, a bowl at a time, filled to the brims with carrots, turnips, onions, peas, and chunks of venison, all swimming in a thick brown gravy. The spices were different than Rake was familiar with, and all smelled good. While as a guest he’d been served first, he politely waited to grab a slice of bread until all had been served stew, but he had to swallow several times from salivating.

  They ate with little conversation. Cinder and Rake didn’t have time to talk as they stuffed food into their faces. The little stew left in the bottoms of their bowls was soaked by thick slices of warm bread. After eating, they settled back, and Rake thanked them for the food.

  He asked about the venison in the stew and after hearing Frog’s exaggerated and humorous version of the deer he stalked and that managed to get behind him and follow him as he hunted it, they laughed. Much the same had happened to him, once. Rake had hunted it on the side of a nearby mountain rumored to have larger deer and had to pack the meat all morning to reach the farm and determined that in the future, he’d do his hunting closer to home.

  The story provided Rake a perfect opportunity to seek the information he wanted without endangering his and Cinder’s identities. He said, “I’ve heard a similar story. A long time ago, two people called Camila and Fleet were hunting on a place called Bear Mountain in Princeton. It took them nearly all day to chase one down, too.”

  He’d watched their reactions carefully while speaking, and as expected, Frog and his mother flinched at the mention of Bear Mountain, the home of the most famous Dragon Clan in the old days, as well as the familiar names of the two hunters, a story told often by those of the Dragon Clan, and never to outsiders. Cobalt recoiled as if burned, his face red, his mouth partly open. But he didn’t speak.

  Certain of his suspicions now, Rake stood and stretched his arms in the sudden quiet, making a show of it, then casually turned and pulled up his shirt and revealed his back. He gave the formal greeting and presentation of his birthmark and a brief mention of his family history. Cinder stood and repeated the old greeting in an equally formal tone, although through a grin.

  Frog leaped to his feet after shouting “Hoo-ha!” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to his chair, then spun and displayed his birthmark proudly while reciting his parentage. Cobalt was slower to do so, but there was an eagerness in his movements that hadn’t been there earlier. Their mother climbed to her feet, displayed her thin back proudly and gave a brief history of her ancestry.

  It was as if the air had suddenly warmed, the clouds parted, and old friends arrived. The stiffness and awkwardness of earlier evaporated like fog on a warm spring morning. Five smiles ringed the table.

  “How did you know?” Cobalt asked.

  “That you were Dragon Clan? A series of clues, none that would be noticed by naturals, so don’t worry about that giving yourselves away to others. The final confirmation was your reactions when I mentioned Bear Mountain and the names in the old stories. To naturals, that wouldn’t have meant anything. Once I was suspicious, it seemed a good way to test you.”

  Cobalt said, “You can see why my reluctance in speaking to you earlier. We don’t have many friends and never talk to strangers—that’s why both of us were so surprised when Frog brought you home.”

  “And now?” Cinder asked.

  “There’s no reason for me to try and hide anything from family, like you. We should talk. You were right, I heard many rumors while working in the west. A few were new and I still don’t know what to believe.”

  “For instance?” Rake asked.

  Cobalt paused as he half closed his eyes and considered the words he was about to use. “I heard the rumors of the coming invasion, of course.”

  “And what else?” Cinder asked.

  “Another rumor. A crazy one, but the more I think about it . . .”

  Cinder placed both palms on the table top and leaned forward. “Do not make me leap across the table and drag it out of you.”

  “It may not be true.”

  “Tell us.”

  “Calm down. A farmhand on my uncle’s farm fed a Crab who was near starving after crossing the Brownlands. He fed the Crab, who said there is no invasion coming. At least, not here.”

  Rake said, “The sudden appearance of several Crabs and the Green means nothing?”

  “It means something else entirely. The Cra
b said a lot of people are trying to leave Breslau because they are taking Crabs and peasants, men and women, and placing them in the army. Training them to fight on the front lines. Those who are too old or weak to serve in the army are disappearing and they think they are killed.”

  Rake rolled his eyes and said, “They are doing that to invade us? It does not make sense.”

  “No! To protect Breslau. The Crab said an enemy fleet from the north has sailed and set up a defensive fort with a small army at the edge of Breslau. They come from Knavesmire, far to the north and across a small sea. They are a fierce people who conquer everyone about them. He said more ships arrive every week and bring supplies to expand the fort, as well as dropping off more soldiers. They are getting ready to invade Breslau from within its own border.”

  Cinder exchanged looks with Rake.

  Cobalt shrugged as he continued, “One rumor is the Breslau royalty are searching for a secure place to run and hide if they lose that war. Oakhaven is protected by the Brownlands.”

  Rake said, “How certain are you of this rumor?”

  “Not at all,” Cobalt said as he laughed without humor. “In fact, I would not believe it except that it would explain some of the recent things we’ve observed.”

  A soft silence fell over the table as gentle as summer rain. Cinder and Rake digested the information and the possible impact. Their families may not be in any danger at all. Oakhaven might even decide to attack Breslau from the eastern border while the unknown enemy attacked from the north, drawing troops away from the north so the newcomers could easily win. They would then appreciate what Oakhaven did to help. There were thousands of possibilities. Most good.

  Cobalt said while lowering his head and speaking to his bowl, “There is more. The people from the north have their own dragons. Not Greens. Not ours. The rumor is they have small dragons, Reds, and Blacks mostly, but with bodies not much larger than that of a horse. They hunt in vicious packs, like wolves.”

  Both Rake and Cinder were on their feet.

  Cobalt pushed his chair back and held up his hands as if surrendering. “That is all I heard that may interest you. Nothing else. It was one conversation and then the Crab slipped away. It might not be true.”

  Cinder relaxed and her tone softened, “If it is true, it changes everything.”

  However, Rake was still thinking. His mind seized on an old story of the Dragon Clan. At the time of the original Breslau invasion of Princeton, there had been the man called Shell who had bonded with a small dragon, a Red, if he recalled the story accurately. Maybe not bonded. He couldn’t remember specifics, except for the unusually small size of the dragon. Shell had believed it came from a land far away and was described much like the dragons from Knavesmire. But the stories never said if Shell found the home of the dragon.

  But more than anything else, the comment about dragons hunting in packs scared him. He’d once faced a pack of hungry wolves. He could have easily defeated any one of them, but as one drew his attention, another had attacked. He’d almost lost the encounter.

  If the invaders were somehow aligned with the Dragon Clan, it would be wonderful. If they were not—the future might be better fighting Breslau rather than the mysterious people from the north—if there was even such a nation as Knavesmire.

  By mutual consent, the subject was abandoned because Cobalt was reacting so strongly to more questions, claiming he knew nothing else. Still, the idea gave Rake and Cinder another angle to pursue but discussing it further with Cobalt was useless. He had told them all he knew of the subject and the conversation came to a close.

  Rake helped carry the dinner bowls to a tub where he washed and rinsed them. Cinder dried and then carried them inside. He refilled the tub with fresh water for the next batch. The sun was getting low, and Frog suggested a campfire to sit by and talk in the evening air.

  Their mother didn’t join them. She explained how tired she was and trudged inside, looking more ill than before. Making the dinner had exhausted her. Rake felt sorry for the extra work they’d caused but knew she would have it no other way. The four sat around the small fire and talked of their homes, their pasts, and eventually the future. Rake and Cinder urged Cobalt to repeat other rumors. Cobalt complied but insisted they be taken as wild rumors. He claimed to have already disproved several others that he didn’t mention.

  But Rake had verified a few facts to a degree. Hunters and travelers reported the increasing numbers of dried bodies and scattered bones of the dead in the desert of the Brownlands. Sightings of Crabs fleeing Breslau were becoming more common when only a few years earlier they were virtually unheard of. There were three recent sightings of Green dragons, seldom a Red, Brown, or rare Blue, although some of them may have been friendly Greens. Only the Dragon Clan would know the difference.

  There was also a tale more disconcerting. It said that twice during last summer men had emerged from the desert dressed in dull green uniforms, the same shade as the Breslau dragons, and each time there were dragon sightings over a few days. Each wore a large pack and carried numerous canteens. The men didn’t talk, explain, or answer questions. They snuck through the countryside avoiding contact. They were rumored to carry full purses and purchased food and little else. One was rumored to have been seen returning to the desert and later the same day, a Green dragon flew after him.

  That sounded like a series of Breslau scouts, and one heading home to report what he’d found. The others probably did the same. They could have been scouting for an invasion or safe havens for Breslau royalty. Chances were, they had not been the first.

  Cobalt repeated other stories, unrelated, but interesting. Cinder and Rake listened to everything, asking few questions because his stories were as complete as possible, however, they still left open issues. Frog listened too, having never heard most of the stories his brother told.

  Cinder said, “From what you’re telling us, I think Breslau is definitely scouting us.”

  “No, they are sending dragon-masters to explore, but there is nothing to indicate for sure they are searching for the Dragon Clan or intending to attack.”

  Rake shook his head. “I disagree. While you heard the stories and have come to your conclusions, I have different slants on them. I’m less trusting.”

  “Like what?” Frog interjected eagerly. “Tell us what you think they mean.”

  Rake spoke calmly although his heart was pounding, “Breslau is sending dragon-masters and their dragons. If I ruled Breslau and wished to know about our lands, I’d send spies disguised as hunters, traders, and even men looking for new lands to settle. Maybe educators. People who could arrive and talk openly at inns and taverns where tongues wag looser from ale. I’d search for strong points and weaknesses.”

  “Then why send dragon-masters?” Frog asked.

  “Their dragons are trained to locate, fight and kill our people and our dragons. They wear sharpened caps on their claws. The old stories tell of encounters between them and that the Breslau Greens hate all other dragons. I think they are sent here to draw us out—or at least our dragons. After that, it would be easier to attack.” Rake sat back and waited for the questions sure to come.

  Cinder said, picking up where Rake left off, “All they have to do is fly over, crisscrossing every part of Oakhaven. If their Greens see one of our dragons, they attack, and the dragon-masters know we’re here, and that our settlements are nearby. Their army will follow, complete with maps that lead directly to the few Dragon Clan villages and families that still exist. If the dragon-masters do not return, Breslau will suspect the Dragon Clan is responsible, and perhaps more powerful than anticipated, and they will send more men, larger armies.”

  Rake added, “The spies that are already here are searching for information of the political climate, which of our leaders are strong, and which are weak, and will pay for that information with gold. At least that’s how they did before the invasion of Princeton.”

  “They even bought themselves a P
rinceton king, if the stories are true,” Cinder added. “They are smart and patient. Before invading, they will know all they need to ensure success.”

  Cobalt was stunned by their analysis. While their farm was hidden from casual observance from the road, there was no doubt the nearby farmers knew where it was, and they traded with vendors in town, some of whom would sell information for a rusted nail. A Breslau dragon flying overhead would spot the farm instantly in the edge of the forest. If that didn’t reveal their home, talking to locals would.

  A dragon-master would wonder why the farm was not on the road and appeared to be hiding. Of course, the dragon-master only trained and cared for their green dragons. They couldn’t see what the dragons in the air did, and there were no reports of anyone from Breslau ever bonding with a dragon. That didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

  While the Breslau army remained in what had been old Princeton, the farm had been safe and secure. The moment they invaded, that changed.

  Frog said to his brother, “What are we going to do?”

  They exchanged blank looks between the four of them. Rake finally said, “Right now, it’s information we need. And we have to distribute it to the Dragon Clan and determine our next step. Do you know of any others living around here? Dragon Clan, I mean.”

  “Two,” Frog answered.

  Cinder pointed at him. “Then you must go warn them. Because you know of two, at least one of them might know of another—or hopefully two or three more. The word must spread. We are all in danger.”

  “What good will that do?” Cobalt asked. “When Breslau comes, everyone dies. We have no back door. No way out of Oakhaven.”

  “Flee,” Rake said. “Or fight. There may be other options, but we don’t know them. Not yet. The mountains prevent us from traveling east, but do they really? Are there mountains that people cannot cross? And if someone has crossed in the past, others can follow, no matter how difficult. We need all Dragon Clan families to begin listening for a way through the mountains.”

 

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