Dragon Clan #1: Camilla's Story

by LeRoy Clary

  The realization made Camilla reevaluate their relationship. This was simply an adventure for Brix. For her, it was life and death. Sure, the boys at the academy might decide to take out their frustrations on Brix, but he could work at his spinning with the protection of four older brothers and his father until the boys were old enough to leave the school and enter the army. As a respected member of the community, he could take the problem to the Goodman, or an officer at the school. Either might tell the boys to leave him alone. For Camilla, a wildling without connections, they wouldn’t spare an ear to listen.

  The dragon attack also needed consideration. What had happened back there? If that dragon had ever attacked anyone since she had been old enough to care for herself, she’d have heard of it. It would have been the talk of the village for years. The people in Nettleton would hide in their homes when someone spotted it flying above. But they didn’t. They watched and pointed while speculating. The people were wary, of course, but not afraid. If they witnessed what happened to the men on the road, they would be scared and run for cover with the women and children.

  The bigger problem that clouded her thinking was deciding if she had anything to do with the attack. Anything at all. The washerwoman said Camilla would one day call down dragons. If men died because of her calling the red down, she didn’t know what to do, or how she did it. Should she surrender? To whom and for what? For accepting a job herding sheep? Her fingers of her left hand scratched the shoulder where the muzzle of the dragon was underneath the shirt.

  “Over there,” Brix pointed with his staff.

  A wider path intersected the one they followed. Turning to the left would take them to the King’s Road, probably ahead of the soldiers. If not, perhaps they could observe them and decide what the best course of action was. She turned and found the wider path easy to walk upon, and her speed increased until she heard low voices speaking barely a dozen steps ahead.

  She stopped and raised her finger to her lips. She motioned for Brix to stand still while slipping the rope off her shoulder and lowering the rolled blanket to the ground. She placed her staff beside it and crouched before moving into deeper shadow. Moving a slow step at a time, and checking on Brix twice, she continued. Brix remained motionless, his eyes locked on her.

  Two men sat on a log beside the road, their slumped backs to her. Both looked exhausted.

  One had a bloody bandage wrapped around his head and another on his arm. He spoke softly, “I heard they killed the whole Dragon Clan around here ten years ago.”

  “Then why did the sheriff send the messenger to order us to look for any boys around here with the mark?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Dragon Clan around here? I haven’t.”

  The second man had his left arm in a sling. He shook his head. “I’ve been patrolling the same road for five years. Never even heard of any Dragon Clan, and you know if they were here we’d have heard about it.”

  “Course you haven’t heard it,” the other barked. “If you did, we’d have been here searching for any sign of them, with another hundred men to back us up. They say there’s more Dragon Clan living in the Raging Mountains.”

  “Even a hundred more soldiers wouldn’t have helped when that thing attacked us.”

  The one with the bandaged head stood. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Or been so scared,” the man with the arm sling said. “Just keep a good watch so we can warn the men behind if it comes at us again. Maybe they can get under cover.”

  “What do you think got into that dragon? Why’d it swoops down on us?”

  Camilla brushed against a dried branch that snapped as she tried to ease closer.

  Both men spun at the sound, their eyes searching the shadows.

  She remained as still as possible.

  “See anything?” Bandaged head asked.

  “If I did, wouldn’t I say so?”

  Camilla fought to control her breathing. They were barely five steps away, but the underbrush was thick and she was partially behind a tangle of vines. Getting so close was a bad idea, but they had been talking about the same things she was wondering about, and she hadn’t wanted to miss a word. Now she might have to flee. She had no doubt she could escape, and Brix along with her, but once they caught sight of her, they would be on guard. Besides, they would report her, and troops would pour into the area because they would think she was the dragon boy they were searching for.

  One item stood out beyond all others. The soldier had said there were others of the Dragon Clan living in the Raging Mountains. Others like her? She didn’t know where the mountains were, but it was something she would have to investigate later.

  “Probably just a squirrel.” The soldier with the arm in a sling said, but he didn’t turn his back. Both men stood in bright sunlight and peered into the dim depths under the trees.

  Camilla could see them without trouble. The eyes of each man looked directly at her more than once but saw nothing.

  A third man limped up the road. He called, “Which of you two is hungry?”

  One said, “You can relieve me, first. I need this bandage replaced because blood keeps dripping into my eyes.”

  Both of them had turned to face the newcomer, and as they did, Camilla stepped back one small step. Then another. And a third. She turned and moved to where her bedroll and staff lay. Brix nodded encouragement, and he took the lead.

  The scare passed, but her heart wouldn’t slow. Instead of the conversation between the soldiers resolving anything, it hinted at worse. She was deep in thought when Brix led them onto the King’s Road after looking to his left to make sure they were out of sight of the two sentries, and to the right to make sure nobody was ahead. “We can move fast if you’re up to it.”

  Camilla made her own mental check before answering, “Another race for you to lose?”

  “Or win.” He was already two steps ahead and grinning over his shoulder like he was the wild boy.

  Camilla had sprinted past him before he took another ten steps. She’d tire soon, but the point was made. As expected, thirty steps further and her breath came in gasps as he trotted past her to take the lead again. He also seemed to have a point to make.

  Camilla saw him breathing hard too, and with determination, she picked up her speed and managed to pass him with her last effort.

  As she slowed, a voice from behind nettles growing head high at the edge of the road said in a familiar voice, “I didn’t think you’d let him win the race, Camilla. But I’m glad you are doing what I asked.”

  Robin, the washerwoman, stepped into view, hands on hips, a tentative smile on her lips.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Robin had moved through the forest until she was ahead of the army, slipping through the thick brush growing at the side of the road. Further, from the road would have been safer, but if she was found she’d tell a story about being scared of so many soldiers. It would suffice. The advantage was speed. Twice she saw men, and once heard nearby talking, but couldn’t make out the words. She crept up on their camp long enough to see nearly half the men lay on the ground while others tended to their injuries. Even those on their feet wore bandages. Not one of the fourteen in sight appeared to have escaped the dragon attack unharmed.

  When she backed far enough into the depths of the vegetation she turned and moved fast, almost running when possible. Judging she had moved well passed them, she turned and walked to the road, again. Before stepping out onto it, she spent the time to ensure the forward sentries were not in sight.

  The road held no footprints of Camilla or her escort. She glanced at the forest. They were either in there or behind her. If they were circling around the soldiers, they’d make their way back to the road at some point. But where?

  With a shrug, she turned up the valley again and began running along the road. The thin air and rising road soon tired her, but after walking another hundred paces she ran again, the staff in her hand ready for instant use
. She kept watch on the road ahead, as well as glancing down at the footprints. Another walk, another jog. She repeated the process several times, and also kept watch on a particular mountain peak. Below it lay a little-known pass.

  Reaching the place where she needed to turn off the road to the other pass, she turned and ran into the underbrush, counting her steps. At three hundred paces she spun around and retraced her path to the road. After making sure Camilla was not on it, she ran three hundred steps on the other side and returned. She felt reasonably certain Camilla hadn’t passed her on either side. At the edge of the road, a granite boulder marked the location.

  She positioned herself behind the boulder where she had a good view of the road in both directions, but could duck into the forest, if necessary. Camilla would avoid the soldiers. She had been at the location of the slaughter and wouldn’t want any part of it. Her natural tendencies would make her circle the soldier’s camp, but she’d move warily and slow. Then she would make her way back to the road.

  The valley had narrowed. Steep hills lined one side of the road and cliffs on the other. There were only two choices of direction. Up valley or down. Robin couldn’t believe she would go back to Nettleton. The logical answer was that while Robin had slipped past the same soldiers, Camilla had circled around, or went around them on the other side of the road.

  For the moment, Robin was safe but uneasy. The longer she waited, the more chance she miscalculated. A flash of color on the road pulled her mind back to reality. Entering the road from the underbrush on the other side of the road were two figures, but even from the distance, there was no mistaking Camilla.

  Robin drew a breath of satisfaction. She carefully stood while remaining out of sight behind the boulder. Camilla’s companion walked in step with her, and appeared about the same size, so somehow, she had met up with the boy. When they passed the boulder, Robin would step onto the road and send the other youngster on his way.

  As the pair came closer, Robin recognized the boy from Nettleton. He spun twine. Brix. A poor spinner from what the village gossip said, but a good boy. Well liked. She pulled further out of sight and started thinking of a story to tell, one that would not cause alarm in Nettleton, but would send him home.

  She peeked around the edge of the boulder at them walking. Camilla carried her staff and didn’t limp anymore. Her movements were sure, and the staff was carried like it had been in her hand since birth. The boy also carried a staff. The wood looked green, the bark recently peeled. He carried his staff in a more awkward manner, but if the tales were true, he was an awkward sort of boy, and it explained the sapling cut down back at the edge of the stream. They broke into a sprint.

  Robin stepped onto the road a dozen steps ahead of them. She had her legs spread wide, her staff at her side, her eyes watching for their reaction as they raced each other. Running, as Robin had told her to do.

  Camilla instantly broke into a smile and ran to greet her.

  The boy raised his staff in a defensive posture before lowering it and waiting.

  Robin approved of both of their reactions. She took Camilla by her shoulders, turned her slightly so the boy couldn’t see her lips and whispered. “Does he know anything?”

  “No.”

  Robin turned. “You are Brix, son of Logoff, is that right?”

  “You are the washerwoman.”

  Robin approved. He probed for information instead of answering her. His defensive posture hadn’t changed.

  “What are you doing here?” Camilla asked.

  Robin kept her attention on Brix. “Why are the two of you traveling together?”

  Brix remained silent while Camilla answered. “We met on the road. He is also going to help herd Arum’s animals. He has done it for three years.”

  “Then he should be on with it.” Robin fixed her eyes on hers and pointed to the road. “You and I have other plans.”

  Brix took a step forward. “Why do you have any say in what Cam does?”

  Robin hesitated at the use of the shortened name, then realized what Camilla had done. She still let him think she was a boy. Smart. It said the boy didn’t know Cam was a girl, and he certainly didn’t know she was Dragon Clan. However, the road saw a lot of people, and Robin didn’t want to linger in the sight of whoever might pass. “I’ll tell your father that I saw you and that you are well. Now, you need to leave us.”

  “Will Cam join me to help Arum?”

  Robin considered lying, but the boy had done no harm. “I’m sorry, that plan has changed.” As the words spilled from her, she paused. Only a short time ago she had thought about the number of people on the road. Most kept to themselves and made camp in sight of the road where they kept track of who else traveled. Strangers are not friends until they are known. Most are wary of highwaymen, robbers, witches, and evil of all sorts. Gypsies constantly traveled, seeking a free meal or goat wandering too far from the rightful owner.

  “How do you decide Cam’s plans?” He asked.

  Robin cast a warning glance at Camilla to remain quiet. She looked back at Brix, “Have you met anyone else on this road?”

  “You mean besides those toy soldiers who were trying to beat me when I was leaving Nettleton? Or the real ones fighting the dragon?” Brix took two more steps closer.

  Robin saw his fingers whiten as he gripped his staff. The ends were sliced like a man whittled a stick. Not sharp, but ragged. His shoulders were wide and his chin set. He looked ready to fight. She snapped her staff above her head, spun it twice, and let the far end fall to chest level. She jabbed twice, the end falling short of him by the length of two steps. It twirled again and regained its former position.

  Brix backed a step. “Was that a threat?”

  “Yes. Now stand there and let me think.” The King’s two henchmen were searching for a boy about Brix’s age. Worse, he was seen in the company of the only local wildling. The Weapons Master and the Slave Master would not hesitate to torture Brix if they heard rumors he traveled with the boy they were seeking.

  If Brix didn’t tell them what they wanted, it might cost him his life, despite the fact he didn’t know anything. Many innocents died because of the King’s search for information about dragons. More because the King’s men believed they concealed that information. Sending the boy back on the road alone could get him killed. What choice did she have? Sending him to Arum’s or to Nettleton made no difference. The King’s men would locate him and demand information he didn’t know because surely others had seen them together.

  She raised her eyes to his. It was not true he knew nothing. He did know where Robin and Camilla left the road, and any tracker could follow them if they knew that. The King’s men would buy information and people with gold. The boy was a liability. He might not intend them harm, but he could cost Camilla and her their lives.

  That left two courses of action. Take the boy with them or kill him and hide the body.

  She knew and respected Logoff. He and his family were honest, good people and killing their son would be almost as hard on her as it was on them. Almost. Perhaps he could be returned to Nettleton after the hunt for the dragon-boy ended. Yes, she could quietly slip him into the edge of the village one night and have him enter his home. She could impress upon him the importance of silence.

  Mind made up, Robin said, “Listen to me carefully. Our lives depend on our actions. Arum will make do without either of you. We’re all in danger.”

  “Danger?” Brix asked, almost sounding excited.

  Camilla simply nodded and waited.

  “Evil men are after us. I’ll explain later. Right now, I want the two of you to run up the road as far as you can and turn off into the forest. Go to that side.” Robin pointed to the side opposite the boulder. “Then leave a lot of footprints heading up into those mountains. Make it look like you’re going there. Then, at a stream or a place where you leave no tracks, come back to this place and meet me here. Do it as fast as you would if your lives depend on it—whi
ch they do.”

  Brix said, “I don’t understand.”

  Camilla stepped closer to Robin. “They’re coming after me, aren’t they?”

  Robin nodded.

  Camilla tossed her staff to the side of the road and started to run. Brix stood still, thinking and wondering. He glanced at Camilla, already far ahead. “You’re sure you’re the same washerwoman?”

  Robin smiled for the first time. “You’re not the first to ask me that. Catch Cam if you can. I’ll be waiting here. Then we’ll be off.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The horse Tomas had provided Edward proved to be a good one, as well as expensive. It had endurance and speed. He could easily leave the boy called Tangos and his rented horse behind. Tangos was a tall, lanky boy of about twenty years. He wore a perpetual smile and didn’t speak much. He told Edward what he needed to know without undue and unearned respect. Tangos didn’t care that Edward would one day be the Earl of this land, and probably didn’t understand it, either.

  Tangos worked on a farm in the lower valley. His father owned the farm, as had his father before him. A few days away from the farm fishing or hunting was a treat. A trip to the pass at the top of the valley was a journey to be spoken of for years to come.

  Edward instinctively understood the boy. They rode hard, knowing King Ember’s Sword Master and Weapons Master followed. He had no way of knowing how far behind they rode, but he had observed them since he was a child. They clung to the King as he did to them. Each supported the others as if brothers. He also understood his father didn’t like or trust any of them, including King Ember.

  His father had placed Edward at the council of the first day to watch and report to him the actions of the sheriff. He was a crony of the King and perhaps the most dangerous of all. The sheriff wished to be royalty, but was born common—and would one day die a commoner. At least, those details were told to him by his father.