Dragon Clan #1: Camilla's Story

by LeRoy Clary

  The Corporal nodded. The action almost caused him to lose his balance. His face paled and only the other sentry grabbing his arm kept him upright.

  The Slave Master said to the Weapons Master, “You talk to him, and I’ll go ahead and dispatch a messenger to get help for them.”

  As the Slave Master trotted ahead, the Weapons Master turned to the Corporal. “A dragon did this?”

  A nod.

  “Anyone else passed by on this road today?”

  The Corporal started to shake his head and stopped. “Wait. There was one gentleman. A young man and a peasant servant. He talked to the Lieutenant. He rode a horse fine enough for the King.”

  “Edward! What did he say?”

  “Sorry, sir. I was not close enough to hear them talk.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “The gentleman rode out, taking the road up the valley. He seemed to be in a hurry.”

  “I’ll bet he was.”

  The Corporal glanced at the sky again.”

  “Why do you look up?”

  “I think I’ll be searching the sky for dragons for a long time.”

  “It was that bad, son?”

  “Worse. I can still hear that creature screaming and crunching bones in his mouth. It tore the head off a horse and spit it out ten paces away. The horse hadn’t even fallen, yet. Are there other attacks?”

  “We’re here to help stop them, Corporal. Anything else you need to tell me?”

  At a shake of the head, the Weapons Master patted the Corporal’s shoulder and climbed back on his horse. When he arrived at the clearing, the Sword Master was watching a man stiffly climb into a saddle. His left arm looked broken, but otherwise, the man looked in better condition than any of the others in sight.

  The Sword Master watched him ride off. “He’ll send help.”

  “We need to go. That idiot Edward managed to get ahead of us.”

  “I’d say impossible, but another soldier confirmed it, complete with a description that can be no other. He also identified himself to the soldier, by name.”

  They spurred their horses and overtook the messenger before rounding the next curve on the road. Shortly after, their horses no longer had the spirit to run, so they slowed to a trot and later allowed them to walk. It was a better pace than the two men walking, but not by much. At mid-afternoon, the Weapons Master's horse quit.

  They dismounted and gathered what they needed. Both had been used to fast foot travel when young so knew what they faced. If they found more horses, they would confiscate them in the name of the crown, if they didn’t outright buy them. But for now, they set a pace faster than the horses had been walking. While tired, they knew the temper of the King when he did not get his way and neither wished to displease him. They had heard from his trusted manservants that he still woke in the darkest nights, screaming in fear of dragons attacking him. If there was any task to succeed, this was it.

  The Weapons Master scanned the road ahead as they moved and suddenly stopped walking. He pointed at the tracks of horses that had passed this way on the road. Two. Probably Edward and his peasant. He knelt and looked closer. “Fresh. No more than a short time ago.”

  “Two horses. Exactly what we need,” the Sword Master said.

  “No, I think not. The riders may have seen us and fled into the forest. If we pursue them, they will outrun us, but it tells me something spooked them. They should not be scared of two men walking the King’s Road unless they know of our reputations.”

  The Sword Master nodded his agreement. “Keep your hands near your weapons, my friend.”

  They continued walking the road and watching the hoof prints and footprints while also keeping their eyes on the road ahead. Late in the day, the Sword Master spoke to himself, as he examined more prints. “What do we have here?”

  The Weapons Master continued to move on up the road ahead a few steps, studying the ground as he moved. “Those two horses never went further than this. It looks like they came up the road and turned around here. Why?” He glanced at the granite boulder beside the left side of the road and then on the other side of the road, which looked to be covered in the impenetrable underbrush.

  “There.” The Sword Master pointed near the base of the boulder. The hoof prints clearly showed the animals had turned around at this location, one following the other.

  They moved closer, eyes locked on the ground. Footprints showed where a man had dismounted and then walked into the forest.

  “Edward?” the Weapons Master asked, the sound of wonder clear in his tone.

  “That idiot? Alone? Couldn’t be.”

  “Look again. The footprint is that of a well-made boot, not the sort to be found around here. The size is about right.”

  The Sword Master grunted. “That inept fool should be still back at the river waiting for the flood to ease.”

  “He might have made it across before the waters got too high.”

  “We nearly killed our horses getting here. Imagine him and his procession of wagons and servants moving faster than us. It is not possible.”

  The Weapons Master continued to examine the area. He moved further into the tangle of weeds and briars and found another print. This one was smaller, the print of a woman or an older boy. He saw another footprint, but the heel of the boot was from a different pair. Squatting, he glanced at his friend. “If he crossed the river the same day as us, he would have arrived in Nettleton a day later if they moved those wagons fast.”

  “If he were in Nettleton we’d have seen him.”

  “No,” the Weapons Master said, deep in thought. “You and I were chasing our tails for more than a day when that damn woman lied to us. Suppose he arrived while we hunted the wildling in the forest?”

  “Yes, it’s possible, I suppose, but remember we’re talking about Edward. He would arrive after we left, and ride up here ahead of us. That is if he was a warrior. We’re dealing with Edward, the idiot, so we have something else in front of us.”

  “I wonder who else it could be. And look here, I believe there are two sets of prints of the size a boy around twelve would make. One is the dragon boy, perhaps both. I have no idea about the other, except that the mystery man who dismounted here is chasing after them.”

  The Sword Master turned with a cruel smile. “I really don’t give a rat’s ass who he is, or who’s chasing them. We’re here on a mission, and our quarry ran this way. There can’t be more than one boy, his size on this road today, and he went that way. Whoever belongs to that fancy boot better stay out of my way or I’ll take those boots off his corpse and wear them myself.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Robin took the lead. She watched the two youths whispering and decided to let them have their time together without warnings or objection. She silently watched them make some rudimentary fighting moves with their staffs. The actions pleased her, although they were stiff and slow with their thrusts and parries. Soon they’d be too worn out to talk. She pushed faster, climbing the steep terrain with the help of her staff as she used to do with her lover and friend all those years ago. They had been young, but the dangers of traveling with a member of the Dragon Clan never slowed her. Twice she had traveled with him, and this trip might be the last traveling she ever did.

  The girl had forced her to give up her chosen way of life, but Camilla had no way of knowing or understanding the consequences of asking for Robin’s help. Just as the girl had no way of knowing that she was the only person in Nettleton who might be able to help to her. Yet, it could not be an accident, she came to Robin. While not understanding why or how, Robin knew Camilla came to her for a reason.

  Both Camilla and Brix seemed to run out of energy on a steep incline that went on forever. Looking back over her shoulder, Robin saw they had climbed so far that if another mountain were not in the way, she could see all the way back to Nettleton. Later, a glance at the sky told her she had enough light left in the day to make a fast camp for the night
. She judged they were far enough away from the road that nobody would follow if they found their trail. Only the most dedicated or desperate would attempt the climb behind them

  The direction they followed wound around the hills while generally heading for Bear Mountain, always kept on the right, as her friend had stressed in their conversations. The small mountain pass she wanted would be found below the peak of Bear Mountain, high on the south side. When a small opening in the trees appeared, she said. “We’ll stay here. Spread your bedrolls and gather some dry wood.”

  Camilla dropped her things and hung her weary head, arms hanging limply at her sides. She made no move to find wood.

  Brix looked little better. He bent and picked up a few twigs. Robin gathered flat rocks from the base of a small ridge where they’d fallen and placed them in a crude ring. Camilla finally gathered herself and stumbled around, picking up any small branches she saw on the ground and carrying them to the fire pit a handful at a time. She let twigs fall from fingers onto the growing pile.

  Robin chuckled at them and said, “Come on. We’ll burn that much wood getting the fire started.”

  “Do we really need a fire?” Camilla asked, her voice soft and weary.

  “No,” Robin said. “We do not need one, but I not only enjoy the warmth of the fire while outside, but believe they keep pesky animals like bears away. If not the fire itself, the lingering smoke scares them off.”

  Camilla and Brix exchanged a disappointed glance.

  Robin stood. “If one of you will start the fire I’ll gather enough to last us.” She rapidly gathered wood and tossed it on the growing pile beside the fire pit. There was a dead tree with several branches as large around as her arms, each and longer than she was tall. She grasped one in each hand and dragged them into the fire pit.

  Brix said, “What are you doing? Have an ax hidden somewhere?”

  “Push wood,” Robin said, smiling—and waiting for the inevitable question to follow.

  “What’s that?” Brix asked.

  “Well, we use that little fire you are burning, and we lay a branch across it. When it burns in half--we ‘push’ the two ends together. These two branches should give us fire the whole night.”

  Camilla sighed, “Push wood. That would be funny if I weren't so tired.”

  However, Brix had snorted a chuckle.

  Robin sat and motioned for them to move closer. “Listen, I can see you two are tired, but it seems an old woman like me should be the one complaining. You will need to get some rest. We have a hard day tomorrow.”

  Brix glanced at his bedroll and rolled his eyes. “Harder than today?”

  Robin nodded.

  “Where are we going?” Camilla asked. “You haven’t told us what’s happening, either.”

  “And why?” Brix added. “I’m scared. At least, I think I should be.”

  “I’ve known your family since before you were born, Brix. Logoff, your father, is respected, and I like him. As soon as possible we’ll send word that you are alive and well. For your safety, you need to come with us. At least for a while.” Robin said. She turned to Camilla. “Men are after you. Very bad men. I think you know that.”

  “You said that down by the road. Who are they and why are they after me?”

  Robin looked from the eyes of one to the other. How do I tell them? Robin stirred the coals and watched the small flames eating through the center of the first branch. With a snap, it fell apart, and she pushed the two ends together as if making up her mind. She looked at Brix. “I am going to tell Cam a story, and I want you to listen as well, and to remain quiet until I am done.”

  Brix glanced at Camilla before nodding. His behavior said he understood he was about to hear something important, and he waited.

  Satisfied, Robin turned to Camilla. “Do you remember the story about my boyfriend long ago? Yes? Well, let me tell you more about him. He had a birthmark on him. From the back of his neck to his upper leg was a black dragon so perfect it might have been drawn there by the best artist in the kingdom. The body of the dragon covered his whole back while the wings wrapped around his body until they almost touched at his breastbone.”

  “You told me all that. You said he could feel when dragons are close, and he could call them down, whatever that means.”

  “Yes. It means that when in danger, a black dragon would sometimes swoop down from the sky and fight at his side. He could tell the dragon who his enemies were, although I’m not exactly sure how he did that. It made him a very powerful man. A man to be feared by those without the power. Those without the power grew worried and gathered an army and killed all with the dragon mark.”

  In a weak voice, Camilla asked, “My family?”

  “Yes, them too. They were supposed to be the last of your kind. The King and his army had already located and killed all the Dragon Clan, except for your family, he believed. The army followed them for a year and finally found them near Nettleton in the forest. They rode in and killed them all, no matter how old or if they were men or women. Each body was laid out and counted like slabs of meat for a butcher. Before the entire job was finished several dragons attacked your camp. They covered everything, including the bodies, with dragon slime. Dragon slime, or spit, burns like lamp oil, only more so, when a flame touches it. It almost explodes, they say. Everything in that camp was destroyed by the dragons and their fire.”

  Brix sat and listened as if in a trance.

  Camilla ignored him as if only Robin and she existed on the mountainside. She said, “The dragons did that so the army didn’t know about me, or find me, didn’t they?”

  Robin shrugged.

  “Didn’t they?” Camilla persisted.

  “I don’t think so, but who knows what and why dragons do anything? I think they simply didn’t know about you because you were born after the chase began.”

  “You?” Brix asked, his voice a whisper full of awe. “Dragon Clan?”

  “Be quiet,” Robin snapped. “Camilla, I’m going to ask you again, like I did at my home. Can you feel dragons?”

  Brix’s head snapped from one to the other as they spoke, so fast he looked like he might hurt himself, but he said nothing, although he seemed to have a hard time keeping his mouth closed.

  Camilla said, “When a red dragon flies near me, I feel itches and tickles on by back. During the attack of the soldiers, I felt pain and anger.”

  “I thought so,” Robin said.

  “Only red ones. I can’t feel green or black. But when the soldiers on the road were attacked it hurt so badly I cried. My back felt like fire. I almost screamed, but then it was gone. I didn’t tell the dragon to attack. I didn’t call it down, I swear.”

  Robin placed a hand on Brix’s shoulder. “You must never speak of these things to others. It would cost you your life.”

  Brix looked at Camilla with wonder. He said, “Camilla? You’re a girl?”

  Robin threw her head back and laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Camilla demanded.

  “The boy hears you have a writhing red dragon on your back, and you can call on dragons to destroy entire cities, and all he’s concerned about is that you’re a girl.”

  They both laughed, while Brix sat alone, between the two of them.

  “Can I see it?” Brix finally asked.

  Camilla looked to Robin for permission. When she saw the slight nod, she turned her back to Brix and pulled up her shirt.

  Brix said, “Turn your back more to the fire. Did someone draw that on you?”

  “I was born with it.”

  “It’s amazing. Can I see the head?”

  She lifted the shirt higher. He half stood to see her shoulder. Then he sat. “Ugly!”

  “Fierce,” Camilla corrected.

  Brix continued, “I still don’t see why we’re crossing these mountains.”

  Robin said, “I believe someone in Nettleton saw her birthmark. She may have been swimming or bathing, or changing shirts for all I know
. But, somehow they found out. The crown pays handsome rewards for information on any Dragon Clan. Someone saw it and sent word to the palace, probably to the sheriff. The two men who came to the inn and were recognized. The King’s own Weapons Master and his Slave Master. They were searching for any wildling boy about twelve years old. We have to get Camilla far from here, and them.”

  “Wildling boy?” Brix asked.

  “Remember that even you believed Camilla was a boy, so it was a natural mistake. But one of those two men was leading the attack on Camilla’s family when they were all murdered. The King ordered everyone in that camp killed, but that man carried out his wishes.”

  “And they are after me? I guess I sort of know that, but what about you two?” Camilla asked.

  Robin stirred the fire again as if using the time to delay her answer. “They will kill you. They need to believe we’re helping you to save Nettleton. If they report to King Ember that there was nobody to blame for your escape, they would have destroyed the entire village and burned it like your wagons. Every person in Nettleton would die to ensure they punished the right one. Since I ran, they will believe I am the only person who helped you, so the village is spared.”

  “One of the two murdered my sisters, brothers, mother and father. I wonder if he feels the fear that he is near me. If he does not, he should,” Camilla said.

  “What about me?” Brix asked.

  “You traveled from Nettleton with her. There are people who saw you. Do you think they will not sniff that out? And do you think they will believe that you didn’t know Camilla is a girl? Or that she has the dragon mark?”

  “But why kill? For a mark?” he asked.

  Robin said, “I see your questions. Let me explain. King Ember’s father attacked the Dragon Clan because he was suspicious of their intent, and he was jealous of their powers. This was many years ago. He attempted to wipe them out, but when his father was set to attack the clan with all his armies, a dragon flew down from the sky and plucked the King from the ground and flew off with him. It circled and flew so high it was hard to see it. Then it let go of the King. He fell to the ground, but they say that before he even hit, his men were scattering and running away.”